"O Hidden Life"

Originally printed in the September - October 2004 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Mills,Joy. "O Hidden Life." Quest  92.5 (SEPTEMBER - OCTOBER 2004):180-185.

By Joy Mills

 Theosophical Society - Joy Mills was an educator who served as President of the Theosophical Society in America from 1965–1974, and then as international Vice President for the Theosophical Society based in AdyarSometime in early 1923, Dr. Annie Besant, then president of the Theosophical Society, penned some lines that have since become familiar to members throughout the world, have been translated into several languages, and have, indeed, become a nearly indispensable part of every

The words have been set to music; they have been chanted and sung; and few gatherings of the Society that have been held since that year have not been opened with the recitation of these words. At every International Convention, successive presidents of the Society have inaugurated the proceedings with the antiphonal recitation of what has come to be known as the "Universal Prayer" or "Universal Invocation." Simple in the extreme, the words possess the magical power of a mantra:

O Hidden Life, vibrant in every atom;
O Hidden Light, shining in every creature;
O Hidden Love, embracing all in Oneness;
May all who feel themselves as one with Thee,
Know they are therefore one with every other.

So familiar have these words become that it may be their significance and depth of inner meaningfulness have escaped us. When we become habituated to anything—be it a person, a situation, or an idea clothed in the fabric of language—there is always the danger that we come to take it for granted. In times of stress, we may even mouth words we learned in childhood, as in the simple prayers of our faith. People have been known to do this automatically at times of crisis. Even avowed atheists have been heard to utter prayers they deny knowing or remembering.

But words are precious and often fragile vehicles not only for thought, but for the aspirations of the heart. They can convey not only mundane meanings that get us about in the world and relate us to each other, but also the hunger of the soul and the beauty of the spirit in their reaching out to that "more-ness" that remains forever indefinable and therefore unspeakable.

Can we pause, then, to examine the lines that Dr. Besant gave the Society and the world? What inner meanings, what deeper realities lie behind the words themselves? To what new insights may we be led, even as we pronounce the words and speak the separate phrases? Have we become attached to these words simply because they came from that heroic soul, Annie Besant? Would it matter if some other individual had served as the channel for their impartation to the world? Undoubtedly, constant repetition has endowed the verse with a certain inner significance (a sacredness, if we may call it that), but repetition can also dull the spirit, and memorized phrases can be mouthed with little attention of either mind or heart.

Before we examine at least some of the inner meaning of the verse, it may be of interest to note its specific origin. In her Watch Tower notes from The Theosophist of June 1923, Dr. Besant wrote that the lines were prompted by a request from a number of members who were helping to organize the "Brotherhood Campaign" in South India. This campaign had been inaugurated some time earlier in Great Britain and was just then being taken up in India. She comments: "I wrote . . . a few lines for daily repetition, morning and evening, as I did not feel that I could write a meditation, as they had asked me to do. Meditation seems to me to be a very individual thing, the working of one's own mind on some special theme; the most I could do was suggest a theme. Here it is, as it chanted itself. . . (Then follows the verse already given above.)

She adds, "It sends forth successive waves of color, pulsing outwards from the speaker, if rhythmically intoned or chanted, whether by the outer or the inner voice, and if some thousands would send these out over successive areas, we might create a very powerful atmosphere . . ."

The fact that Dr. Besant tells us that the verse chanted itself to her may indeed indicate that its true source lay in a deeper or higher realm beyond her own conscious mind, perhaps even from that Source to which she herself always gave the most profound reverence and obeisance. Surely, we must concur that the words, as she gave them, are of such beauty and majestic sweep that any alteration or modification would be improper. The effect on the surrounding environment or community, and on the individual who may be reciting the words as the verse is spoken, can only be guessed at, although many testify to its efficacy in producing an inner peace and even actual healing.

Line-by-Line Commentary

Turning now to the verse itself, we may consider it phrase by phrase, suggesting some of the meanings latent within it.

O Hidden Life, vibrant in every atom . . .

The immediate question that arises is: Why hidden? Is not life in evidence all about us? Life surely is not hidden!

But what is referred to here, what is invoked, must be beyond or above the obvious. Dr. I. K. Taimni, in his work Glimpses into the Psychology of Yoga, reminds us:

The Ultimate Reality exists only in the Ever-Unmanifest and is the source of all relative realities which can be within the realm of human experience . . ." (p. 54)

The highest principle, then, is present everywhere and yet is beyond all existence: it is truly the "hidden life" that underlies all of manifestation. Inherent within that reality is its own dynamism, as it were, making possible the production of all things, all existence, for there, at the heart of reality, is the throbbing pulse of creation. Without that pulse, nothing can exist; it is ubiquitous and contains the power of resonating throughout all that ever is or will be. And that potency is locked up in every atom, every element, of the manifested universe; truly, it is "vibrant in every atom." So all of nature pulsates with the rhythm of the Eternal One, hidden forever but known by its countless manifestations, as the One becomes the many and yet remains forever One.

This initial phrase, then, is a call to that eternal, Unmanifest Principle: the Supreme Reality which is both beyond the cycles of manifestation and yet forever vibrating through the manifested universe. In terms of human consciousness, it is an invocation to that atman which is hidden in our very nature—as present here in the physical as at its own level—because its resonance vibrates through all the atoms of all our vehicles—carriers of that atman—from buddhi to the physical.

O Hidden Light, shining in every creature . . .

Again, we may ask: Why hidden? If there were a light shining in every creature, surely that light would be observable. The very nature of light is that it glows and therefore it can be seen. Light radiates outwards, but we are called on to invoke a hidden light—a light that shines within but is not radiating outward in a visible manner. So, a deeper meaning must be implicit in the words. The One Reality, when it manifests, may be said to become Light; it is this interior light of the Supreme Reality, of Ishvara, the manifest Deity that is present in every creature. Life has now become light; its very vibrancy is now shining with an inner dynamism. In humanity, [the faculty of] buddhi—the "light of the soul"—is now united with atma, ready to turn outward into activity. It is this light that must illumine our entire nature; it is this that makes consciousness possible, a light that is "hidden" because it is not objective to consciousness but is of the very nature of pure consciousness itself. And that light is present, shining through every atom in space.

O Hidden Love, embracing all in Oneness . . .

From the polarity of Life and Light there now springs creative activity—Love. Wherever there is polarity, relationship between the poles comes into existence; and the purest of all relationships, the one relationship that is not sullied in any manner by any object of either attachment or repulsion, is the relationship of Love. This we may call the underlying "glue" that holds together all manifested things, all parts of the universe, all elements that appear with manifestation; so it is Love that "embraces all in Oneness."

The One has become the many; out of unity has come multiplicity. Yet however great the multiplicity, all is held in the one embrace of that pure relationship that arises when Life and Light come into existence, that relationship of Love.

Love lies at the very heart of the creative process. It is therefore the principle of universal lawfulness, which underlies evolution. Hidden, then, at the heart of the manifold is the Love that binds the many into the unity of the One. This is the law and the fulfillment of the law, bringing everything into perfect equilibrium, for whatever happens anywhere in the universe has its repercussions everywhere. There is no external authority, no extracosmic deity weighing the scales of justice. Love is at the heart of the universe and brings about balance because all that is in the universe is held in its embrace.

Here, too, is the creative principle: atma-buddhi joined with manas, turned outward now on the great involutionary-evolutionary journey. Manas, or creative activity, is truly love in action. The mind, when infused with intuition, embraces the universe, perceiving all things as they truly are. The mind that can fragment the Real in order to grasp or realize its manifold nature can also be brought into a condition of stillness, in which the modifications of the thinking principle have ceased. In that condition, perception, or awareness, is undivided. The undivided state of consciousness embraces "all in oneness."

Summation of Lines 1—3

The first three phrases of the mantra remind us of the great triplicity of the Supreme Reality— Life, Light, and Love. But this triplicity is "hidden" because it is not known objectively but rather underlies the entire process of manifestation. It is "hidden" because the mind alone cannot grasp its essentialness, nor can it be experienced through the instrumentality of the senses. As Dr. Taimni points out, in the above-quoted work,

According to the Occult philosophy there is a method of knowing the Reality . . . and this method consists in suppressing the modifications of the mind completely.

That method, of course, is yoga. "Then," continues Dr. Taimni,

the individual consciousness becomes freed from the veil which separates the individual consciousness from the universal consciousness and knows this Reality directly by becoming one with it. (62-3)

In the first three lines of our verse, we invoke the triple nature of the One Reality, and in that invocation we may perform a supreme yoga of self-realization. Our attention is drawn to the sublime fact that underlying each individual and the universe is that One Reality in its triple aspect of Life, Light, and Love. Its realization lies in a realm beyond the mind, but by invoking it, we bring that Reality into direct awareness, into our consciousness attuned and harmonized with the One.

The final two lines of the verse affirm this realization.

May all who feel themselves as one with Thee . . .

The use of the word "Thee" indicates that the triplicity of Life, Light, and Love is indeed One—the One Supreme Reality. Note, however, that the emphasis first is on the word "feel." What is it to feel oneself as one with the Supreme? Feeling is acute awareness—awareness without any distracting thought, without any disturbing influence. It is an awareness that is total, which overwhelms us and takes hold of us wholly and utterly. Perhaps it may be compared to the moment of pain when one stubs one"s toe. At such a moment, there is no other awareness than the awareness of pain. No thought even intrudes at the sharp moment of impact; only later may we say, "I stubbed my toe" or "I felt pain in my toe."

The feeling that must come, and must be affirmed in the realization of oneness, is such a feeling: total, entire, complete, without analysis or reason or logical deduction. Only in such a condition can true knowing arise. In one sense, this ability to "feel . . . as one with Thee" may be described as the pain of oneness, the burden of oneness, that we all must bear if we would know the reality of life itself. It is not, in other words, a selective feeling: "I will feel one with you, but not with that person; I will feel one with a tree, but not with a snake,"and so on. When we say "May each . . .," we are invoking in ourselves a consciousness that has no divisions, no barriers; it is a consciousness infused only with Life, Light, and Love, and therefore it is pure and whole.

Know they are therefore one with every other

Out of that acute awareness of feeling, knowing must follow. So the mantra concludes with an affirmation of the certainty of knowledge. Humanity is not only meant to feel; it must know. This is the full burden of self-consciousness. But it is a knowing that is not simply a surmise, an opinion, an idea, or a belief that may be altered when some other notion comes along. It is rather a conscious act that arises because we have been immersed in a consciousness that was uncompounded, undivided, whole, and pristine in its nature.

As a result of the contact with that consciousness, of that nonverbal awareness that we are one with the Universal Reality, that we are truly atma-buddhi-manas, we have to know, to be fully conscious of our oneness with all other units of Life who are equally infused with that Reality— vibrating with it, shining with it, embraced by it.

In some versions of the mantra, the word "also" has been substituted for the word "therefore," but it may be noted that in Dr. Besant"s original version, the latter word is used. There is a subtle but very definite difference between the two words. "Also" is an additive word; it means in addition to, this plus that, and so on. "Therefore" has the connotation of subsequent upon, as a result of; it is not augmentative. Surely what is intended in the mantra is the realization that when the feeling of unity is present, recognition of the oneness with the Supreme Reality that is Light, Life, and Love, then there follows upon that recognition the realization that one is inevitably united with all other creatures. For how can we be one with the Supreme and remain separate from, distinct from, all others who are equally rooted in the One Reality?

Concluding Thoughts

Many more meanings may be discovered in this magnificent verse that Dr. Besant bequeathed to us. It is truly a reaffirmation of the entire creative process in which we — and all life—are immersed; a reaffirmation that we hold within our power, as self-conscious units of life, the ability to perceive life, whole and splendid. This is the vision we can send shining out over the entire world, the vision to which we can give wings and voice and form. This is the vision that can recreate ourselves every time we chant the mantra, and so recreate and transform our world.

Such a vision alone can bring about a new consciousness in the world, a consciousness of unity, of brotherhood, of peace and harmony, of wholeness and holiness. When we repeat these few simple lines, either alone or in a group, we invoke the One Reality to manifest itself anew, and this surely is to make whole and make holy all that is in the universe about us. No more wonderful act could we perform.


Joy Mills is an international lecturer for the Theosophical Society. She has held numerous positions within the Society, including president of the American and Australian Sections; international vice president, Director for the School of the Wisdom, Adyar, India and Director of Krotona School of Theosophy. She has authored and edited numerous books and her articles have appeared in theosophical journals throughout the world. Joy has been a student of Theosophy for over 60 years. This article is reprinted from The Theosophist, June 1976.


References
Besant, Annie. "On the Watchtower," The Theosophist, June 1923.
Taimni, I. K. Glimpses into the Psychology of Yoga. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1973.

 


Our Essential Musical Intelligence

Originally printed in the September - October 2004 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Montello, Louise. "Our Essential Musical Intelligence." Quest  92.5 (SEPTEMBER - OCTOBER 2004):170 - 175.
 

By Louise Montello

Essential musical intelligence is your natural ability to use music and sound as self-reflecting, transformational tools to facilitate total health and well-being.

Theosophical Society - Louise Montello is a certified music therapist/psychoanalyst, clinical research scientist in the department of psychology at New York University, and founder/director of the Creative Arts Therapy Certificate Program at New School University, where she has been teaching for nine years. She is also associate editor of the International Journal of Arts.  Cofounder of Musician's Wellness, Inc., a not-for-profit corporation designed to promote wellness for professional musicians, Louise has been lecturing on the healing powers of music for over a decade. She has conducted workshops at Arts, Medicine and Music Therapy conferences all over Europe, Asia, Scandinavia, and the U.S.  In 1992, Louise presented her work at the American Occupational Health Conference in Washington, D.C. In 1993, she was invited to lead a seminar at the First U.S./Japan Arts Medicine Leaders Conference in Tokyo. The organizers of the 5th Annual Meeting of the International Association for Dance Medicine & Science invited Louise to Tel Aviv, Israel, to present her work on understanding the relationship between stress and immunity in professional musicians.  Having conducted workshops in Hamburg and Berlin, Louise is well known in the German music therapy community. She has also been an artist-in-residence at the Gotenberg Conservatory in Sweden, at Berklee College of Music in Boston, and at the Manhattan School of Music.  Along with her research and clinical work, she is also a free-lance jazz pianist and composer. Louise currently lives in New York City.Imagine starting your day by finding a tranquil spot in nature where you can sit quietly for a spell and listen with an open heart to the subtly emerging sounds of the pulsating life within and around you that gently reveal to you the secrets of your soul . . .

or

Imagine being alone on a cold winter's night wrapped in a warm blanket and listening to Brahms's Requiem with candles burning brightly, asking in your heart for assistance in mourning the loss of a loved one whom you have not been able to let go . . .

or

Imagine using intentional sound making (toning) to give voice to that persistent pain under your left shoulder blade. Feel the chronic tension melting in the creative heat of your expressive self as you let go and allow the music take you where you need to go . . .

All these scenarios are examples of how you can activate your essential musical intelligence (EMI) in daily life. They each reflect a certain level of comfort and intimacy that you can develop with the wise, compassionate, and deeply creative capacity of your higher self (or soul) through your engagement with music. It is my premise that we become overwhelmed by pain, suffering, and ignorance when we are cut off from our innate divinity, and that deep and lasting healing ensues when we reestablish a conscious relationship with this aspect of ourselves.

Although essential musical intelligence is ubiquitous and instinctual, it still requires a conscious effort to integrate its potential for healing into your daily life. There are two complementary phases involved in using EMI to facilitate self-healing and transformation.

The first phase, which I call the witnessing stance, involves the practice of self-observation and inner listening. Witnessing is the process of turning your focus inward and becoming the observer of the permutations of your mind, body, and emotions, as opposed to living your life on automatic pilot, without much conscious awareness. Witnessing can be honed through the formal practice of meditation, in which you sit quietly for a period of time and watch the flow of mind stuff with a sense of detachment; or it can be practiced informally at selected intervals throughout the day as a way of consciously tuning out the noise of external reality and allowing yourself to gradually tune in to the deeper music of your inner self. The process of tuning in to your inner music—the emotional and archetypal landscape that colors both waking and dreaming states—is associated with inner listening. In order to achieve full engagement with the witnessing stance of EMI, it is important to cultivate the ability to listen with the ear of the heart—your innate intuitive capacity that allows you to both hear your inner music and at the same time realize its true meaning. For instance, if you find while engaged in the witnessing stance that you are unable to maintain your equanimity and you succumb to mind-body states that are less than desirable (such as pain, confusion, despair, or psychological numbing), you can call upon your intuitive listening capacity to provide a deeper level of understanding of what is going on inside you.

As you become more skilled at turning inward and engaging the witnessing stance, you will soon become aware of those thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations, and behaviors that foster health and creativity as well as those that detract from your sense of well-being. The witnessing phase of essential musical intelligence involves your willingness to take regular time-outs from the activities of your day and tune in to how you are feeling. This can be done upon rising to observe if and how certain somatic states, feelings, and attitudes might influence your daily activities; in the evening before retiring as a way of reviewing the dynamics of your day; or any time during the day when you feel the need for centering and mind-body coherence.

Once your internal feeling states are illuminated and clarified during the witnessing phase, you may then allow yourself to move gently into the deeper, more musical essence of your being, where you can intuitively sense what you need to become more balanced and whole. As you enter this second transformational phase of using EMI, you may either consciously choose to engage in specific musical activities that help to create balance and harmony within, or you can allow spontaneous music or sound to emerge from a deeper source (improvisation) as an agent of change in harmonizing and transforming the specific physical, mental, and emotional energies at the root of your problem.

Developing a witness stance is a prerequisite to using EMI for health and healing. There are many exercises that can help to strengthen your capacity to observe the modifications of the mind-body. My favorite one involves breath awareness.

Breath Awareness 

Take a few minutes now to observe your breathing. In a comfortable seated position, be aware of the air as it enters your nostrils and again as it leaves your nostrils. Continue to follow the movement of your breath. You might notice some jerks or pauses as you breathe, or even a faint breathing sound. Do not try to change anything—just watch. You may even become impatient and resist this self-reflective activity. That is all right. On your next exhalation, allow the breath to release these impatient feelings, and as you inhale, bring your awareness back to your breath. If any thoughts arise, simply let them go for now and bring your focus back to your breath. Soon you will notice that your consciousness begins to shift. You feel more present and rooted in your body, calmer, and more relaxed. You are moving into a state of being versus doing. You have become a witness to your internal states. You will now be able to consciously connect with your essential musical intelligence.

One way of deepening your connection with your essential musical intelligence is to keep track of the choices you make every day in creating your unique musical and emotional environment. How are you using music right now to maintain a sense of emotional and physical balance, to help you to understand yourself better, and to give voice to your creative vision? You can document your relationship with music and sound by keeping a music and sound awareness journal, where you make daily entries that reflect your expanding capacity to listen with the ear of your heart (intuition) and use music and sound to create and transform your inner and outer realities. 

Your Earliest Musical Memory 

A more immediate way to reconnect with your musical intelligence is through conjuring your earliest memory of music. When we are children, listening to music usually evokes a mood of awe, wonder, joy, celebration, and love that we openly share with our parents and loved ones. Thus, for most of us, this earliest memory reflects an aura of safety, security, and trust in the inherent goodness of the world around us. It is often our first conscious experience of the vibration of the deeper self.

After many years of practicing music therapy with people from all walks of life, it often seems to me that this musical memory is like a keynote of the soul's mission or desire in this lifetime. It is uncanny how the emotional quality of the music almost always mirrors the temperament of the individual as he or she moves through life.

You can recover your earliest memory of music quite simply. Take a few moments to relax by practicing the witnessing exercise described earlier. Once your thoughts are stilled and your body is calm, allow yourself to travel back in time—as far back as you can possibly remember—and connect with your earliest memory of being with music. It should come quite easily. (If it is difficult for you to retrieve early childhood memories, you might try looking at some childhood photographs.) Pick the very first memory that comes along. Allow this memory to increase in vividness by focusing on the colors, sounds, smells, feelings, and bodily sensations that you experienced then. Write down your impressions in your music and sound awareness journal.

Did you notice any correlation between that earliest memory and your relationship with music today? What about your temperament, your personal mission, the quality of your emotional life? Take a few moments now to contemplate the remarkable self-reflecting quality of music. In your relationship with music, you can discover the origins of your current emotional makeup. As you learn to activate the transformational power of EMI, you can, over time, literally recreate your internal world so that it reflects only the thoughts, feelings, and beliefs that are in alignment with your higher self.

As you begin the process of reconnecting with EMI, it is important to allow yourself regular downtime so you can let go of the pressing demands of outer reality and surrender to your soul's desire for peace and solitude. It is in moments of stillness that EMI comes alive. It is really an age-old process.

In ancient Greece, people with physical and emotional ills traveled to the healing temples of Aesclepius where they were lulled into altered states by soothing music that allowed them access to the healer within. In these altered states they received dreams and visions that helped them to symbolically transform the root causes of their pain and suffering, leading to miraculous cures. EMI is not activated through the conscious mind but through the realm of imagination, the domain of the soul. In this dimension there is no concept of time. Everything is happening in the eternal now. In this realm there are infinite possibilities to create and transform your reality. The more comfortable you are living and playing in this imaginal world, the more your musical intelligence will manifest its healing presence in your life. 

The Heart of EMI 

Essential musical intelligence is always present in our lives. Its power is most available to us when our hearts are open and we are in a receptive, intuitive, playful, or prayerful state. Our earliest memory of music is so profound because as infants or young children, our hearts are open. We have not yet developed the defenses that protect our hearts from hurt, nor have we developed a strong ego that pushes forward with its own interests, ignoring the still, small voice of our essential musical intelligence.

According to the teachings of Eastern mysticism, the heart is the seat of the soul, and the soul is the link between spirit and personality. Spirit expresses itself in the form of emotional energy that is colored by the dynamics of specific archetypal issues that we grapple with at a given stage of our development. Emotions can propel us toward greater feelings of self-worth, creative expression, and harmonious relationships, or lead us to self-doubt, suffering, and destruction. At the level of the heart chakra, we begin to discriminate between emotions that are life giving and emotions that are depleting. As we open to the music of the heart, we are compelled to act out of love and compassion in our dealings with ourselves and others; we recognize that the most powerful energy we possess is love. 

In most spiritual traditions throughout history, music has been used as a way to awaken and purify the heart. According to the I Ching, the Chinese Book of Changes, "music has power to ease tension within the heart and to loosen the grip of obscure emotions." The ancient Chinese sages who authored the I Ching equated music with enthusiasm: "The enthusiasm of the heart expresses itself involuntarily in a burst of song, in dance and rhythmic movements of the body. From immemorial times the inspiring effect of the invisible sound that moves all hearts and draws them together has mystified mankind." (68)

In the Sufi tradition, also known as "the path of the heart," surrendering to the practice of devotional music is believed to be the most direct path to enlightenment. The Sufis use song, poetry, and improvisation to passionately express and transform their feelings into spiritual ecstasy as part of their daily ritual of worship. 

In trying to understand the relationship between intelligence, music, and the heart from a more scientific perspective, I asked my friend Ted, a neuroscientist and classical pianist, what it means when someone plays a piece "by heart." He replied matter-of-factly, "To play from memory." "But," I asked, "shouldn't it really be to play by mind' or by brain'? What does the heart have to do with memory? Isn't that the domain of the mind?" My scientist friend was stumped. I was compelled to get to the bottom of this conundrum, and after conducting a bit of my own research, I learned that in many traditions, along with being a center for feeling and aesthetic sensibility, the heart is associated with thought and intelligence. In fact, within the framework of traditional Chinese medicine, mind and spirit are intimately related, both being housed within the cave of the heart. In the Japanese language, one word that is used to describe the heart is kokoro, which refers to the "mind of the heart."

Current neuropsychological research indicates that the heart has its own independent nervous system, which is actually referred to as "the brain in the heart." According to Doc Lew Childre and Howard Martin, authors of The HeartMath Solution, "The heart's intrinsic brain and nervous system relay information back to the brain in the cranium, creating a two-way communication system between heart and brain. The signals sent from the heart to the brain affect many areas and functions in the amygdala, the thalamus, and the cortex" (31).

The amygdala, an almond-shaped structure deep in the limbic system of the brain, specializes in processing strong emotional memories. As we know, music is a perfect container for strong emotions; thus, the heart-brain-music connection. But how did we musicians who have been playing by heart all these years know that? Suffice to say that the heart is an important nodal point for essential musical intelligence. 

The Voice of EMI 

By opening your heart to the music of your soul, you can pave the way to an even deeper personal relationship with your essential musical intelligence. This relationship manifests itself through the throat chakra, your most vital center for engaging with EMI. When centered in the consciousness of the throat chakra, you open yourself to receiving nurturance, not only physically, through the food you eat and the air you breathe, but spiritually, through your direct relationship with one or more of the glorious forms of Absolute Being. Take a moment now to recall a time when you had the experience of being literally filled up with feelings of joy, awe, and wonder related to some extraordinary (or sometimes quite ordinary) occurrence in your life. Perhaps you have had this kind of peak experience while deeply engaged in creating art (sculpture, music, dance, poetry), or communing with nature (witnessing a brilliant sunset, playing with your new puppy), or during periods of heartfelt prayer or spiritual practice. Often just listening to a few bars of a patriotic song or literally stopping to smell the roses on the way to work can evoke the sensation of awe that reminds us of a reality far greater than what we perceive with our five senses. The word "awe" is associated with childlike innocence and wonder and is itself a breathing sound that seems to express the act of taking in—in-spir-ation—breathing in spirit. This receptivity to the life of spirit is the keynote of the throat chakra and the true power behind your essential musical intelligence. At the level of the throat chakra, you naturally open to the innocence of the pine child within and consequently release attachments that block your experience of receiving nurturance (love, harmony, and beauty) from a higher source. 

In addition to opening to peak experiences as a way to connect with the consciousness of the throat chakra, many people experience this shift when they are caught in the throes of personal crisis or illness. Often physically or emotionally challenged individuals spontaneously connect with Absolute Being when they have exhausted their ego reserves and are forced to surrender their will to that of a higher power. Through "letting go and letting God," these people often experience profound personal and spiritual transformation that can lead to the healing of their deepest wounds.

By releasing your own egoistic preoccupations at the level of the throat chakra as you practice the exercises that follow, you can increasingly allow yourself to become a clear channel for the expression of your higher self. Because your higher self exists simultaneously within and beyond the mind, it often communicates its wisdom symbolically through sound, music, movement, poetry, and mandalas. Thus, the throat chakra is also the center for imagination and creative expression. You create your own reality through the words that you speak and the artistic forms to which you give birth. The more you direct your creative energies toward the expression of your core truth, the more you activate the transformational aspect of your musical intelligence to create harmony, balance, and healing in your life and in the world around you. 

You can connect with the consciousness of the throat chakra through devotional musical activities such as chanting, singing inspirational songs and psalms, songwriting, and vocal and instrumental improvisation. Through spontaneous music making, you can safely express the entire spectrum of emotions, allowing your EMI to transform feelings that are no longer serving you into creative power for change. It is not necessary to be involved in a particular spiritual tradition to open the throat chakra. As you open to the presence of grace in your life, you naturally respond in kind with your own soulful creative expression. Thus, creativity and nurturance are actually two sides of the same coin. When you are being creative, you nurture yourself by receiving guidance from the higher consciousness at the center of your being. In the creative process that provides the framework for using your essential musical intelligence, you open to the source of your most profound healing. 

Six-Steps to Healing through EMI 

The following six steps delineate the healing process of EMI that you can put into practice in your daily life as a way of transforming pain and negativity into increasingly deeper levels of creativity and personal power.

  • Identify the problem. Learn to recognize dissonance in your body or mind that may be causing physical or emotional pain or limiting your creative expression. To do this, you must activate the witnessing stance and practice mindfulness: tuning into your thoughts and feelings at regular intervals throughout the day and taking the time to reflect on pain and frustration instead of pushing them away. Once you can identify the problem—you are fuming with rage, stuck in a horrendous traffic jam, late for an important meeting—then you can call on EMI to provide a healthy solution.

  • Remember your true worth. You are precious and infinitely loved. This is a difficult step for many people, particularly if you have experienced early abuse, abandonment, or trauma. You may feel like you don't matter and consequently relinquish your power and play the victim role. It is so important to realize that, regardless of what happened to you in the past, you do matter. Health, harmony, happiness, and abundance are your natural birthright. Tuning in to the feeling that you are loved no matter what happens is wonderfully soothing and can instantly defuse the fear and tension of unmanageable situations (such as a traffic jam). In activating this step, it is most helpful to actually remember a specific time when you felt that you were loved unconditionally. Allow this memory and the associated feelings of safety, security, and self-worth to become deeply anchored within you.

  • Become proactive. Empower yourself to take responsibility for your own life. Know that although you cannot always prevent or change negative situations you can call upon the creative power of your musical intelligence to help you to transform maladaptive reactions (rage, tension, self-destructive behaviors) to difficult situations. These reactions are ego oriented and, consequently, fear based; they originate in the part of the mind that is unable to see the whole picture. Asking for help from your EMI initiates the switch into a more holistic frame of consciousness.

  • Connect with your throat chakra. Bring your attention to your throat center and focus your breathing there for a few moments. As this area becomes more energized, imagine that your center of receptivity and expression is opening and expanding. Allow yourself to surrender to the transformational power of EMI as it offers you a musical solution to your problem.

  • Express yourself. You will receive a musical solution if you allow yourself to hold the tension and listen for your essential musical intelligence. In dealing with a traffic jam, for example, you may be drawn to make up a funny limerick about the situation or to sing your most centering Buddhist chant. Or you may simply pop your hippest James Brown tape into the cassette player, turn up the volume, and channel that rage into a funky rendition of "I Feel Good." Give yourself up to whatever musical idea comes until you begin to feel a significant shift in consciousness.

  • Give thanks. When you feel more centered and whole (perhaps even joyful), acknowledge yourself for being proactive and sincerely give thanks to your EMI for its presence in your life and the unlimited possibilities that it offers for healing.

    You may liken this six-step transformational process to other stress-management techniques that you have tried in the past. What makes this process unique, however, is that through using music and sound to explore areas of dissonance, you are working directly with the energy of the negative feeling state, engaging it through the creative process of musical expression, and allowing your essential musical intelligence (the intuitive wisdom of your higher self) to transform it into a more desirable, harmonic state of being.

    As you begin to practice these steps regularly, the process of engaging with EMI eventually becomes more automatic. Before you know it, you will be conditioned to use EMI to root out and harmonize both internal and external dissonance without much conscious effort. Once you have established an ongoing relationship with your essential musical intelligence, it is important to work systematically, so that all the parts of your self are working together in alignment with a single goal—to sound the music of love. It is only in this state of coherence among the different levels of consciousness that deep and lasting healing can occur.


    References

    Bly, Robert. The Kabir Book. Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1993.
    Childre, Doc Lew, and Howard Martin. The HeartMath Solution. San Francisco, CA: HarperSanFrancisco, 1999.
    Wilhelm, Richard, trans. The I Ching or Book of Changes. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1950.


Rediscovering Our Lost Chord

Originally printed in the September - October 2004 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Oliveria, Linda. "Rediscovering Our Lost Chord." Quest  92.5 (SEPTEMBER - OCTOBER 2004):165 - 169.

By Linda Oliveira

We have to become translucent, instead of opaque as we mostly are, and bring about that harmony between the inner and the outer, the higher and the lower, which is a condition of true understanding and fitness

N. Sri Ram, Thoughts for Aspirants

Theosophical Society - Linda Oliverira is national president of the Theosophical Society in Australia. WHEN a musical chord is struck, a certain harmony is produced by that combination of notes. But a chord in which just one note is incorrect produces discord, dissonance. This has a very definite effect.

So it is with human beings. If one aspect of us is out of harmony with the rest, then we do not function smoothly, and our actions come from fields of consciousness that are not integrated. This could result in ill health. Following from this, if the chords of enough individuals are not in harmony, then groups of humans can become mutually destructive, as we witness today. The community of humanity is experiencing ill health because, clearly, there is discord in so many areas.

In contrast, let us consider nature. Nature is like an orchestra that somehow blends together countless keynotes. Since the time of Pythagoras, this cosmic symphony has been known as the Music of the Spheres. According to this concept, every tiny atom is attuned to a musical note and is constantly in movement at incredible speeds, each speed having its own numerical quality or note. It follows that if we had the ears to hear, we could actually hear a tree grow or a flower blossom. Equally, we would hear the deep cries of other humans and life forms on the planet and be better equipped to soothe them.

We humans seem to be forever searching in an attempt to rediscover something from Nature that we have lost—the chord of harmony with the universe. Harmony is not an airy fairy concept. It is very relevant to everyday life. Further, harmony is not limited to the individual, the family and the human community. Rather, it implies a state of deep inner resonance with all life in the terrestrial world and ultimately with all life that resides in still subtler domains. The search for this lost chord has led us in myriad directions. We are seeking to fill gaps within our makeup, to help make us whole. Consequently, human beings are great adventurers. We search every nook and cranny of life to try to rediscover that precious treasure —through excitement, drugs, alcohol, new forms of pleasure, wealth, gurus, meditation, and so forth. It would be fair to say that the human being is often like a clogged backwater rather than an active participant in the great stream of life. We can only become one with the stream, reconnect with it, when we rediscover our depth. How do we, as individuals, rediscover the deeper notes of our existence, that can then help us move consciously toward a state of harmony?

Moving toward Harmony

Listening

Each of life's myriad forms has a unique set of vibrations. This includes the human being. Can we sense the deeper notes of another person? Do we really listen to another—not just to spoken words but to the person's gestures and eyes, to that which is not spoken, so that we apply our inner senses to what the person is communicating? Krishnamurti commented that we always listen with a preconception or from a particular point of view. Can we listen with "new" ears?

Trust

Do we actually trust life, or are we afraid of it in some ways? Our actions may be based on fear, such as fear of what someone else will think of us. As we evolve, the conventions of society loosen their grip somewhat and our individual morality becomes the basis of our life rather than the morality of the world, which may be out of harmony with the workings of the universe. In The Mahatma Letters there is an important statement by Master K. H.: "[A Mahatma] must obey the inward impulse of his soul irrespective of the prudential considerations of worldly science or sagacity." Worldly wisdom, so called, may be but a poor reflection at times of that wisdom that can enter from subtler realms, flooded with the light of buddhi. As we become more inwardly confident, fears such as these recede and we trust life because somehow we trust ourselves. We learn to cope better with situations, with our relationships, with heavy burdens, and with the task immediately at hand.

Responsibility

To what degree do we genuinely take responsibility for what we do? If we can take responsibility for our actions, then we become more consciously responsible for the state of the world. The idea of karma may be nothing more than an interesting notion moving around in the mind. But a conscious cooperation with the workings of karma in our everyday life results in a conscious assumption of responsibility for our actions.

Aspiration

Aspiration may be thought of as the heart of the spiritual life. One of the meanings of `aspire' is "to seek after." "Seeking" suggests searching for something that is hidden, like some undiscovered land. For example, when we aspire toward Truth, or seek it, we are stretching . beyond the mundane, the commonplace, beyond our known limits, into new territory.

Coming to Truth

Theosophical teachings suggest that we fracture Truth through the divisions of the concrete mind, just as sunlight is divided when it passes through a prism. Microbiologist Darryl Reanney, in his book Music of the Mind, comments that our primary mode of physical expression, language, also fractures Truth. We should qualify this, though, because language also provides opportunities to reach beyond the mundane. We may hear or read beautiful, evocative words that act as catalysts for new insights, new understandings. Language is our primary mode of expressing thought, and thought has many manifestations. Therefore, language must give voice to that which is lofty and inspiring, as well as the grosser aspects of the human mind. Ultimately, though, Truth may not require language, as the following story form the Zen tradition illustrates.

The Zen teacher's dog loved his evening romp with his master. The dog would bound ahead to fetch a stick, then run back, wag his tail, and wait for the next game. One evening, the teacher invited one of his brightest students to join him—a boy so intelligent that he became troubled by the seeming contradictions in Buddhist doctrine.

"You must understand," said the teacher, "that the words are only guideposts. Never let the words or symbols get in the way of truth. Here, I'll show you."

With that the teacher called his happy dog.

"Fetch me the moon," he said to his dog and pointed to the full moon.

"Where is my dog looking?" asked the teacher of the bright pupil.

"He's looking at your finger."

"Exactly. Don't be like my dog. Don't confuse the pointing finger with the thing that is being pointed at. All our Buddhist words are only guideposts. Every man fights his way through other men's words to find his own truth."

Darryl Reanney maintains that society today confuses knowing, which is born of insight, with memory, which is born of repetition. Insight comes in its own time, when the mind is ready and is able to transfigure information into wisdom. He points out that memory enables us to access experience without necessarily understanding it, which explains the spiritual impoverishment of our age. He then makes the following statement: "For knowing, deep knowing, is a prize that can be won only by voyaging . . . into the deeps of consciousness and paying the full price of pain and patience that is demanded of those that passionately need to know." (p. 123) And are not pain and patience integral to the life of the spiritual aspirant? They are part of a voyage into the deep. That prize of deep knowing is Truth.

Inner and Outer Worlds

Science has shown that an electron exists as a paradoxical composite of two states: wave and particle. Darryl Reanney suggests that the behavior of an electron may be an apt metaphor for the complementary coupling of the inner world of subjective (wave structured) experience and the outer world of objective (particle structured) observation.

Knowing, says Reanney, in its very nature, exists in wave form. We find that poetry is more evocative than prose because it is already partly cast in song, which has wave structure. He comments that music is the most alchemical force of all, as the resonances it sets up "can vibrate in tune with the inner logic of the universe." The power of mantra, for example, is well known. Also, if we become aligned with a piece of music then we resonate to its harmony. Certain waves of music may transport us more easily into archetypal realms, the abode of Truth.

Alchemy

Searching for the harmony we have lost may be likened to seeking the illusive pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Let us consider this as an alchemical process.

Alchemy has been described as a medieval form of chemistry, the chief aim of which is to discover how to turn ordinary metals into gold. Producing gold is therefore a traditional goal of an alchemist. The first principle of the alchemist, said Madame Blavatsky, is the existence of a certain "universal solvent" by which all composite bodies are resolved into the homogeneous substance from which they are evolved. This pure gold is also called summa materia, implying the ultimate sum of that which is known about matter, or the essence of matter.

The unfoldment of a human being also requires an alchemical process. Madame Blavatsky described alchemy as the "chemistry of Nature" and pointed out that it has cosmic, human, and terrestrial aspects. She commented that transmutation of baser metal into gold is only the terrestrial aspect of alchemy, for the alchemical process also has deeper significance —namely that the "Occultist Alchemist," spurning earth's gold, directs his or her efforts towards the transmutation of what theosophists often refer to as the "lower quaternary" into the upper triad of the human being. Or we could say that gold is produced by the flowering of our innermost nature. Therefore HPB stated that alchemy is as much a spiritual philosophy as a physical science. She equated the mysterious process of the transformation of lead into gold with the transformation of personality into pure, homogeneous Spirit. The stone of the philosopher, she said, is born of the Spirit. She explains that this is the soul (manas) and body of the human being assimilating Spirit (buddhi). In this process they merge into the One Life.

It is interesting that HPB emphasized the assimilation of Spirit or buddhi by us, not the assimilation of us by Spirit. This underscores the significance of individual effort as we evolve, so well conveyed in the third Fundamental Proposition of The Secret Doctrine. It seems that the alchemy of the Spirit, that total transformation of the personality which produces a regenerate human being, is absolutely dependent upon effort—at least up to a point. Therefore, the quality, time, and orientation of the effort of each of us is of paramount importance and may enable the alchemical process to proceed exponentially.

The Importance of Silence

Darryl Reanney has another way of putting this: through purifying your knowing from the noise of ego, the "you that is truly you" can join the symphony of creation, and the song you have become can meld seamlessly into the music that is. In other words, purifying our knowing, implying purification of the mind, is crucial to reharmonizing ourselves. This is the work of lifetimes and is central to works such as Patanjali's Yoga Sutras. Perhaps one way of purifying the mind is through learning to be quiet.

Purifying our knowing from the noise of ego demands that we make available opportunities to reduce that noise if we are to remain lucid and sane in today's world. Jocelyn Underhill wrote that one of the most distressing features of modern life is the fear of silence that pervades every rank of society. Much idle and inconsequential chatter, she said, arises from fear. Perhaps silence creates a seeming void, something that is unknown and that we therefore fear.

Silence is critical in spiritual life. What does it mean to be utterly quiet? The body is quiet; it does not fidget. Its cells are not agitated. The emotions are at rest and the mind is still yet alert. It is interesting to observe the silences between thoughts. They become longer and may change in quality over time. The experience of time itself also changes when we experience inner states of awareness.

What is silence? Commonly, we consider it to be the absence of sound. But Jocelyn Underhill says, "Silence is much more than the negation of sound, it is sound itself." Spiritual things viewed from the lower worlds more often than not present themselves as paradoxes. Therefore they may not be easy to grasp, and sometimes they require a leap of faith before they can be truly known. The notion of silence being sound is, of course, well exemplified in the theme of that wonderful Theosophical classic, The Voice of the Silence. A former general secretary of the Australian Section, Helen Zahara, suggests that this voice takes different forms, depending on our state of consciousness:

  • Sometimes we feel an inner compulsion or guidance toward taking a particular action. This will not be an unfamiliar idea to many. The question is whether the impulse is a genuine spiritual impulse. We need to find out whether our emotional desires or thoughts are influencing us. To do this, discernment needs to be developed. A key here is to examine our motive.

  • Conscience is another kind of inner voice that determines the extent of our morality. True conscience comes from the realm of spirit. But what we think is conscience may have an external origin, produced by society.

  • Sometimes a strong thought appears in the mind, almost like a voice speaking. Again, we need to determine its source in order to know whether it is a manifestation of the "Voice of the Silence."

  • Throughout history there have been accounts of mystics and visionaries who have been inspired by an inner voice. The mystic state seems to be one of great interior illumination, a flood of inner light and joy, a tremendous sense of unity. That presence, that state of consciousness, has its own voice, and yet attempts to describe it may only approximate the reality that has been known.

These provide some intimations of what "the Voice of the Silence" means. How might we describe this in Theosophical terms?

Helen Zahara quoted a definition by C. W. Leadbeater: "The Voice of the Silence for anyone is that which comes from the part of himself which is higher than what his normal consciousness can reach." Therefore, it is logical and natural that this voice changes as an individual evolves. These changes may be considered as three stages:

  1. For those who are focused in the personality, that voice might originate in the subtler aspects of the mind, in which there is a synthesizing and conceptual quality of comprehension.

  2. For the more sensitive individual, it might be the voice of buddhi which provides an illumined understanding.

  3. Eventually that voice would come from the level of anima. We could then regard the voice as spiritual will. Monadic evolution would lie primarily in the future for humanity.

When adeptship is reached, no doubt there are still subtler expressions of this voice. According to the Wisdom teachings, this originally commenced with the Word or the Great Breath, which thrilled through space at the beginning of the universe and through seven great fields of consciousness. If the universe consists of these vast fields, and if we are of One Life, then hearing that Word or Sound means surely to become awake at each of these levels. As The Voice of the Silence says, "Before thou sett'st thy foot upon the ladder's upper rung, the ladder of the mystic sounds, thou hast to hear the voice of thy inner god in seven manners.' These seven manners are sometimes equated with vibrations of these seven fields or domains but may also have other connotations.

Silence need not be feared. In fact, it can be a great comfort if we can bring to it the whole range of our experience—our deepest griefs, noble thoughts, and so forth, right through to our highest aspirations. Can we create space for silence, allow silence to brood over the deep waters of the soul?

Silence does not need to be confined to moments of meditation, and this is something that we can experiment with. What, then, of those moments when we cannot retreat into physical silence? Perhaps the secret is to allow noises to flow through us rather than meet them with resistance. Then harmony is not disturbed.

Australian aborigines use the term "songlines" to describe the "interwoven pattern of time tracks that criss cross the landscape of their land." Darryl Reanney refers to a songline as the "fullness of knowing over time." In reply to "Who am I?" he says, "We are the songlines of our lives." In other words, our full knowing resides within us. He comments (125) that if the songline of your life is out of tune with the chorus of creation, it cannot become part of the universe, the one song, the music that makes the world or the harmonic summation of all that is. In the course of evolution, dissonant sounds will eventually blend with this vast sea of harmony, the Music of the Spheres.

Our Challenge

 

What, then, is our challenge? We, who are participants in the orchestra of life, are somehow trying to replay that lost chord. We need to decide how to act in accordance with nature's ways while expressing a unique range of notes that mark our own individuality.

How do we know how to act? A profound statement is made in Light on the Path: "To hear the Voice of the Silence is to understand that from within comes the only true guidance." Thus the gold resulting from the alchemy of the spirit, born in silence, can radically transform us. The particles of our everyday objective observations are then transmuted into the waves of our inner, subjective world of experience. This is true regeneration.

Finally, let us bear in mind the words of Jocelyn Underhill: "To the spiritually trained ear there is always music waiting to be heard, and this soundless sound swells upward and onward until it unites itself with the throb of the eternal sea and the clear call of the stars, both of which are chords in the great melody of the voices of the Angels of God and the Sons of the Morning, the music that fills the Cosmos with a harmony unending and Divine."


Linda Oliveira is national president of the Theosophical Society in Australia. The article is reprinted from The Theosophist, 24:11 (August 2003).


References

Blavatsky, H. P. The Voice of the Silence. Adyar, Madras: Theosophical Publishing House, 1888.
Reanny, Darryl. Music of the Mind: An Adventure into Consciousness. London: Souvenir Press, 1997.

 

  

 

 

 


What Is Truth?

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2005 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Bland, Betty. "What Is Truth?." Quest  93.5 (SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2005):164-165

Theosophical Society - Betty Bland served as President of the Theosophical Society in America and made many important and lasting contributions to the growth and legacy of the TSA. Many truths, accepted through the ages, are not as strong and formidable as they may seem. From time to time an intellectual storm of explorers—philosophers or scientists—can shake our certainty and expose the faulty core of our suppositions.

The famous Albert Einstein, still in his mid-twenties, broke beyond the boundaries of thought in his time. He had not been a good student because he would not learn by rote, but had to explore the questions in depth for himself. Of course he had a penetrating intellect, but it would have done him little good without the willingness to explore outside the accepted paradigms. In 1905 he published four papers—two explaining how to measure the size and speed of molecules in a liquid, another how light is composed of photons (the foundation of quantum physics), and finally the Nobel Prize-winning theory of the relativity of time and space. Only a few months later he published a paper on the interchangeability of matter and energy with his famous equation of E=mc².

Science is still reeling from his discoveries, uncovering new implications every year. Einstein's theories are an extreme example, but they illustrate how far-reaching a few new ideas can be when they become a part of base knowledge for subsequent truth seekers to build upon.

Whether in the outer world of scientific discovery or in the explorations of our own consciousness, an open mind is the essential vehicle that takes us on our journey. Our finite minds can relate only to very small corners of the truth, and because of that our observations can be distorted and our conclusions faulty. Consider, for example, the story of the blind men studying an elephant: one examining the trunk proclaims the animal to be like a giant snake; another posted at its leg declares it to be like a tree; and yet another at its side vows that any intelligent person can tell that it is not an animal at all but a giant wall. The picture can be expanded to whole nations or cultures standing in the place of each of the blind men. Partial truths can be very entrenched and very misleading.

In his earliest writing (At the Feet of the Master) J. Krishnamurti, who was known for his efforts to free our minds from preconceptions and attachments, spoke of the need to distinguish truth:

in thought first; and that is not easy, for there are in the world many untrue thoughts, many foolish superstitions, and no one who is enslaved by them can make progress. Therefore you must not hold a thought just because many other people hold it, nor because it has been believed for centuries, nor because it is written in some book which men think sacred; you must think of the matter for yourself, and judge for yourself whether it is reasonable. Remember that though a thousand men agree upon a subject, if they know nothing about that subject their opinion is of no value. He who would walk upon the Path must learn to think for himself, for superstition is one of the greatest evils in the world, one of the fetters from which you must utterly free yourself.

"There is no religion higher than truth," the inspiring motto of the Theosophical Society, means that at all times, no matter how wonderfully coherent our theories are, the flexibility to accommodate new understandings is a necessary component of spiritual growth. When new knowledge or insight sweeps through like a summer storm, we can use it to nourish our spirit as we journey into new areas of maturity. If we deny a truth's presence, we create a blockage that will obstruct the source of our nourishment. It is this kind of rigidity that causes people to become frightened believers, rejecting change and debasing science and religion into a kind of superstition. As the saying goes, "They do not want to be confused by the facts because their minds are already made up." People can be deeply wounded by the winds of encroaching knowledge contrary to their belief structures.

This was a major theme throughout the writings of Madame Blavatsky. She wanted to debunk the gross materialism of scientists and the narrow superstitions of the religious leaders of her day. Her desire that humanity might be freed from these fetters echoed the purposes of the teachers who stood behind her. In her dogged dedication to truth she urged all to cultivate an open mind and an eager intellect in order to move toward spiritual maturity.

Later in his life Einstein rejected an early pet theory—the idea that in order for the stars to stay in place, moving relatively so slowly through space, there must be some kind of antigravity. When Hubble's discovery that the universe is expanding at great speeds eliminated the need for this theoretical force to keep stars from collapsing into each other, Einstein decided that his antigravity theory no longer fit. He was willing to let go of a cherished idea. Interestingly, however, years later the rejected idea of the repulsive effects of antigravity, now called dark energy, might be the cornerstone for understanding the force that is driving our ever-expanding and accelerating cosmos.

The fluctuation in the perceived verity of Einstein's theories reflects the path to truth for each of us. Open-mindedness is required for useful exploration and discrimination at every step. Sometimes a realization of a truth may have beneficial reverberations through the years, and these instances are to be gratefully nurtured. Sometimes as the data trickles in, we may realize that we were operating under faulty conceptions and we need to move beyond them. And sometimes in our growth we may reject a thing as untrue but later have to consider it as a truth on a new level. Even ideas we have discarded for good reason at one time may be discovered to be valid in a different context or at a deeper level.

Some of our religious background may fall into this category. Even though our early religious training may have been dogmatic and constrictive, the faith idiom underlying those teachings may yet have powerful mythic meaning that can speak to the depths of our psyche. In such a case open-mindedness includes being willing to modify judgment on discarded truths if that is found to be useful.

What ideas might we be clinging to that we need to open to fresh understanding? Are there any things we have discarded that we may need to reexamine? Can we look at our inner and outer worlds with new eyes so that the storms of life nourish us rather than break us? If we are willing to explore our worlds based on experience, study, and meditational insight, our life-roots will reach deeply into wisdom and truth. In this context truth seems to be a product of the search rather than any static reality. We might even loosely translate the Theosophical motto to be: "There is no better way to seek union with the divine than to be earnestly searching for it."


An Ethics Nightmare

By Philip Harris

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2005 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Harris, Philip. "An Ethics Nightmare." Quest  93.5 (SEPTERMBER-OCTOBER 2005):188-189

Theosophical Society - Philip Harris is the author of a raja yoga manual titled The Spiritual Path to Complete Fulfilment and Theosophy's Leading Edge (in preparation). he is the general editor of the Theosophical Encyclopedia which will be published late 2005. He is an honorary life member of the Theosophical Society in Australia.Science and technology perennially offer vexing questions about ethics; sometimes scientists have been bitterly criticized when in fact they are innocent of wrongdoing. At other times, they are praised before the implications of their work are fully examined. Sometimes their work is evaluated several times over many years—and each new evaluation yields new opinions.

The science surrounding nuclear fission offers a classic example. As pure science, exploring the nature of matter is quite innocuous, or even positive. It has resulted in a number of extremely beneficial procedures. Yet such investigations resulted in the invention of the atom bomb and culminated in the destruction of two Japanese cities together with their hapless inhabitants. That is a classic example of the misquestionable use of knowledge. Then again, even the first use of the atomic bomb is fraught with controversy. Some say it was simply and completely indefensible. Others observe that some authorities, at the time, estimated a prolonged campaign in Japan would cost at least a million and a half casualties. They note that atom bombs caused far fewer.

Today, similar levels of controversy surround stem-cell science. Today, much of the argument revolves around the source of stem cells. It appears that the potential benefits of stem cells make the issue of their use cloudy and prone to frequent reconsideration. Currently, public opinion leans against discussion focuses on the harvest of stem cells, whether from living human embryos, but approves the use of stem cells gathered or through less from non-invasive sources. As information about stem cells increases and applications emerge, stem-cell science is likely to inspire continued controversy. Already, new discoveries force scientists, lawmakers and ordinary individuals to consider exactly what it means to be human.

About a year ago, for example, scientists at the University of Florida extracted 25,000 neuron cells from the brain of a rat. They placed the cells in a nutrient solution inside a petri dish and placed the petri dish on an array of electrodes that allowed the scientists to study electrical activity in the cells. The brain cells multiplied and organized for themselves a neural network—the rudiments of a brain. Scientists found they could train the network of cells to serve the autopilot function on a flight simulator. While it is not precisely the case that these scientists taught a disembodied rat brain to fly a plane, it is true that they taught a simple "brain" to learn complex behaviors.

What are we, as theosophists, to make of this biological experiment? Indeed, what shall we call it? Is it an artificial brain, a biological artifact, or a neurological nightmare? Although there has been an ongoing discussion in psychological circles for quite a long time regarding the actual stage of brain size and complexity at which self-consciousness can arise, there has been no recognizable consensus. Human brains are made of several billion neurons, and there is no evidence that a "brain" of 25,000 cells can manage self-consciousness, or even a self to be conscious of. In fact, the rat cells in Florida lost their piloting skills only fifteen minutes after they gained them—then learned them and lost them again and again, making the experiment easy to replicate. Still, we simply do not know at what stage of development self-consciousness occurs.

When properly arranged, it has been found that a large numbers of neurons are not necessary for the management of quite complex procedures. The honey bee carries out difficult flying operations, collects nectar and pollen, ventilates and guards the hive, constructs the intricately shaped honeycomb, all with just ninety neurons in its brain. However, many theosophists will hasten to point out that bees are possessed of a group soul and therefore a hive can employ a mutuality of brain activity. Similarly, termites that live in a large enough group are active and effective in pursuing community labor. If a small number of termites are placed in a supportive environment they wander about aimlessly and fail to exhibit any ordered activity.

Let us suppose that self-consciousness is possible in a cultivated brain comprising of 500 million neurons. What is the likely scenario? This artificially developed brain would have no input from sensory organs such as sight, hearing, touch, and taste. It would exist in a sensory vacuum. As a result, it would not have the same neurological structure as animal and human brains. Experiments have demonstrated that humans who have been deprived of sensory input for some time lose rationality and even become temporarily insane. Arthur Clarke envisaged this possibility in the film 2001, A Space Odyssey when an intelligent spaceship computer (HAL) descended into irrationality and tried to kill the ship's crew. Writers are quick to conjure nightmares in which artificial brains link up together to oppose their human creators but it is entirely possible that in order to function properly, an artificial brain would have to be linked to other brains—or to some intelligence larger than itself . As Frankenstein was obligated to provide his monster with a mate, we human creators of artificial intelligence may find ourselves morally obligated to ease the isolation of the creatures we create.

What, in fact, are our obligations to the living things we create from other living things? Most theosophists are strongly opposed to vivisection of animals and well aware of the negative karma such abuse can create. Such activities no doubt incur appropriate karma. Culpability might be mitigated if the experimenters are working to benefit humanity. But we have observed that technology, while neutral, is rarely if ever pure. Scientists who talk about their experiment with rat brains suggest that their experiments might benefit epilepsy sufferers. But one of the primary objectives of this experiment was to create an intelligence capable of piloting a military plane into dangerously hostile territory.

Vivisection in the service of warfare is likely to elicit horrendous karmic consequences. Further technology in the same line of inquiry could descend into fearful evil. By combining DNA manipulation, cloning, and the cultivation of artificial brains, scientists could conceivably design and produce humanoids for the sole purpose of killing naturally born humans. Knowing what we do about justifications for genocide, it's easy to imagine one group of humans justifying such a creation as a measure of protection against an opposing force. And it's easy to imagine that scientists who developed this "weapon," like those who developed the atom bomb, would not be able to predict the evil they would unleash. For no one knows what such creations mean on the etheric level. No one knows what sort of energy form might choose to inhabit a living thing with no associated etheric double, no natural physical body, and no mental body.

I am fully aware that I have raised a series of very important questions and have furnished no answers. I simply do not have any facile replies! I certainly don't mean to promote ill-informed embargoes on biological research, but I want to caution against careless license. Most universities do have an ethics committee charged with the scrutiny of proposed research projects, but what about research carried out by corporations? According to some mythology that has come down to us, Atlantis was destroyed because its scientists offended the gods. Are we retracing the same path?

There is an urgent need for a well-informed global debate on artificial intelligence and artificially cultivated life forms. We must not justify embargoes on inquiry just because we are afraid. Neither must we forbid biological research when it has already yielded vast medical breakthroughs and social goods. No, freedom must be preserved from both atrophy and careless license. We must ratify ethical guidelines, formulated and enforced by an international body such as the United Nations. Then we must live by those guidelines, lest we become gods whose very creations destroy us.


Philip Harris is the author of a raja yoga manual titled The Spiritual Path to Complete Fulfilment and Theosophy's Leading Edge (in preparation). he is the general editor of the Theosophical Encyclopedia which will be published late 2005. He is an honorary life member of the Theosophical Society in Australia. philipharris@iinet.net.au


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