Quest Magazine

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."

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

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

By Mary Anderson

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Anderson, Mary. "Entering the Garden of Theosophy." Quest  95.5 (SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007):

 It is often said that the two pillars of the Theosophical Society are universal brotherhood and freedom of thought. Universal brotherhood implies love towards all. Such brotherly love should—but does not always—exist between brothers and sisters or in a family in general. And freedom of thought should ultimately imply wisdom.

The root of universal brotherhood lies in the origin of humanity, indeed of all kingdoms of nature. All beings, even all things that exist, have one single origin, just as brothers and sisters in a family have the same parents. Love is something that draws us together, that draws us back to the Oneness from which we came and for which we yearn, whether we realize it or not.

When we consider the other pillar of the Theosophical Society, freedom of thought, does there seem to be a contradiction between the two pillars? Certainly, agreement with others, the harmony of minds, may deepen friendship. Great minds are said to think alike. On the other hand, a brilliant intellect may seduce others, including those who are too lazy to think for themselves. We should have an open mind on the one hand, but on the other hand we should not simply swallow impressive ideas but think things out for ourselves, come to our own conclusions.

What prevents our thought from being free? There have been and still are times and places where freedom of thought has been and still is suppressed. I was once asked in all seriousness what the difference is between the Theosophical Society and the Communist Party, since they both believe in brotherhood. In reply, I could only think of a rather strongly-worded saying in German: "If you refuse to be my brother, I'll break your skull!" So freedom of thought may be suppressed from outside. But it may be suppressed through our own fault, if we are too lazy to think or afraid to draw certain conclusions, especially if such conclusions might show us up in a negative light or if they seem in contradiction with the other pillar of the Theosophical Society, brotherhood. Indeed, sometimes brotherhood and freedom of thought may seem to pull in opposite directions, but is it not possible to respect different opinions in others and feel brotherly towards them? Can we be together differently?

It may sometimes be a fine art to keep the two pillars of the Theosophical Society in balance—a living, flexible balance, supporting the keystone which is the Theosophical Society. The two pillars and the keystone together form the gateway leading to the garden of Theosophy, which does not mean that there are not other gateways leading there. Is it not up to us to support the Society by maintaining the fine balance between brotherhood and freedom of thought, so that the Society remains a strong living entity and fulfills its function as a gateway?

If we enter the garden of Theosophy, what do we find? A garden creates a beautiful environment. Gardens have inspired poets with religious feelings:

A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!
Rose plot,
Fringed pool,
Ferned grot—
The veriest school
Of peace, and yet the fool
Contends that God is not.
Not God! In gardens! When the eve is cool?
Nay, but I have a sign,
Tis very sure God walks in mine.

—Thomas Edward Brown

Many Christian and Buddhist monasteries are famous for their gardens. Even a little plant can inspire us. There is the story of a Scottish shepherd, who loved Nature but was obliged to spend the winter in town, doing manual labor. He had, in the little attic room that he rented, a daisy in a pot which he tended with loving care. For him the daisy represented the countryside and all the plants which he so missed.

A garden may seem an appropriate symbol for Theosophy, the Divine Wisdom. If we enter through the gateway of the Theosophical Society, supported by its two pillars, brotherhood and freedom of thought, this implies that we enter with a loving heart and a free mind, free from dogmatism and superstition—at least we may hope so! But what do we find in that garden? What do we look for and find in any garden? Those living beings called plants: trees, flowers, grass and what is needed for plant life: earth, water, air and, above all, sunlight.

Symbolically, may it not be that we are the plants, growing in the garden of Theosophy? We need earth, water, air, and sunlight, not only physically, but also in the sense that these may be symbols for aspects of our being. In other words, we need physical matter and a physical body with which we act, symbolized by earth; we need the finer matter, sometimes called "astral," symbolized by water, to express our feelings and which we model with our emotions, our desires; and we need the still finer mental matter, symbolized by air, expressing our thoughts and which we model with these thoughts. But what we need above all and what we always have, although not consciously, is the Divine Light of Spirit, symbolized by sunlight. We are then those plants, nurtured by our good actions, our love, our thoughts arising in freedom and our spiritual nature.

A garden needs to be tended. Thus we should tend the plants that we are. We should ensure that our bodies are fed with healthy pure food, produced without harm to any creature, so that they are strong and healthy for useful activity. Our emotions should be nurtured with the pure water of kind and harmonious feelings, expressing compassion and love. We should keep our minds open to pure and healthy air and not let them be either in the doldrums or swept away by the hurricanes of sensation, so that we can think in an orderly, free, and impersonal manner. And we should never forget that in our inmost being we are spirit, we are part of the ONE life of all, we are that life.

Symbols can, however, mean different things and the plants in our garden may also symbolize Theosophy. But what is meant by Theosophy? There is what has been called Primary Theosophy and what has been called Secondary Theosophy. Most of us may think of Theosophy in the first place as a teaching, as a philosophy, as a wonderful metaphysical system which explains so many puzzling things, so many problems in life. But Theosophy as a teaching, however wonderful, helpful, and enlightening has been called merely Secondary Theosophy.

What then is Primary Theosophy? It is Theosophy in action, Theosophy in us, in our lives. And only when we apply theosophical teachings in daily life can we really be said to have understood those teachings, not just with the mind, but with our whole being, so that our life is transformed. Thus we become loving, indeed ultimately totally unselfish, selfless, we become wise and also efficient because, if we are really unselfish, we are free from those selfish desires which ordinarily vitiate our feelings, our thoughts, and even our actions. Then we shall understand theosophical teachings at a deeper level, not just in theory, but also and above all in practice. Thus it has been said: "Live the life and you will come to the Wisdom."

Theosophical teachings are like a seed which is planted. Such a seed may symbolize Secondary Theosophy. And Primary Theosophy, a really theosophical life, is the flower in which the plant reaches the apotheosis of its beauty. Moreover, it is the resultant fruit which will nourish others, and the seed which will be planted and will spread Theosophy, not only as a teaching, but as a way of life. We are that flower, that fruit, that seed. This is Primary Theosophy. The example of a theosophical life is contagious. How many TS members do we meet who tell us that their first or decisive contact with Theosophy was not a book, but a person—not a perfect person, but one whose life had also been transformed by Theosophy?

But let us look at Secondary Theosophy, Theosophy as a teaching, as a philosophy. What are the fundamentals of theosophical teachings? There may be different presentations, but both Madame Blavatsky and Dr. Besant pointed to three fundamental teachings which can transform people's lives: the Unity of all Life, Reincarnation, and Karma. So these may be the seeds planted as Secondary Theosophy.

Let us first take the Unity of all Life. Every plant originates in a tiny seed. That seed comes from another plant, which grew from another seed. The image of a seed is indeed used in the Chandogya Upanishad by a father explaining to his son what his true nature is: The invisible essence within one tiny seed is the origin of a great tree, representing the whole universe, and that tiny seed, that origin—"That art thou." If we go back far enough in thought, we may realize that we are all physically related. It is a staggering thought. Still more staggering is the thought that that Oneness which we share with others is our true nature as well as that of all human beings, indeed of all living creatures—and everything is alive.

Reincarnation is illustrated in the apparent "death" of plants in winter and their "rebirth" in spring, which, if we really consider it, may strike us as a wonder. The concept of reincarnation may banish the fear of death. Indeed, it may show us the necessity of death, again by analogy with plant life: "Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone, but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit" (St. John 12:24).

The law of Karma is illustrated by St. Paul in the words: "Be not deceived, God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap" (Galatians 6:7). We find their echo in the words of The Light of Asia:

That which ye sow ye reap. See yonder fields!
The sesamum was sesamum, the corn Was corn. The Silence and the Darkness knew!
So is a man's fate born.
He cometh, reaper of the things he sowed,
Sesamum, corn, so much cast in past birth;
And so much weed and poison-stuff, which mar
Him and the aching earth.
If he shall labour rightly, rooting these,
And planting wholesome seedlings where they grew,
Fruitful and fair and clean the ground shall be,
And rich the harvest due.

And above all—above Secondary Theosophy, the seed planted in the earth, and above Primary Theosophy, the flower, the fruit, and again the seed, that is, what we make of that seed—there shines the sun of Theosophy, the Divine Wisdom.

In a temple garden in the East belong lotus flowers, which again are highly symbolic: symbols of the constitution of a human being and of his or her growth into spirituality, into becoming what one is. The lotus flower has its roots in the earth, in the mud at the bottom of the lotus pond, representing the physical body. Its stem rises up through the water, symbolizing the emotions, it rises higher through the air—a symbol of our minds, our thoughts—and finally the flower of the lotus opens out in the sunshine of spirit. Thus our consciousness, being at first concentrated in the physical body, then at the level of our emotions, then of our thoughts, ultimately finds its destination in the sunshine of spirit.

The trees, also adorning the garden, have their symbolic meaning. We come across the Tree of Life in the Nordic tradition: the ash Yggdrasil, the symbol of the world, the tree of the universe, of time and of life. At the beginning of Discourse XV of the Bhagavadgita we read: "With roots above, branches below, the Asvattha (Banyan tree of worldly life) is said to be indestructible . . . ." This is a description of the world in which we live. The roots of that world are in the spiritual world depicted as above. The second verse continues: "Downwards and upwards spread the branches of it, nourished by the guna-s, the objects of the senses its buds; and the roots grow downwards, the bonds of action in the world of men." This seems to be a description of us human beings, living in the world of the objects we perceive by the senses, being subject to the guna-s: indolence, passion, and harmony, and creating Karma by our actions.

There follows a description of how we escape from that world of illusory sense perceptions, the guna-s and the bonds of karma: "This strongly-rooted Asvattha having been cut down by the unswerving weapon of non-attachment, that path beyond may be sought, treading which there is no return. I go indeed to that Primal Man, whence the ancient energy forth-streamed."

Thus we may see in the life of plants interesting symbols of the teachings of Theosophy, useful illustrations of how Theosophy may become alive in us. But such symbols are not only useful instruments for illustration and understanding. The root of a symbol lies in the principle of analogy, which reveals the same process at work in different circumstances, at different levels. Does not the analogy of a garden also recall to us that the same laws are operative everywhere?

In conclusion, we need only to listen to the world around us to hear that message reflected in the words of I. Hoskins:

As is the Inner, so is the Outer, as is the Great, so is the Small; as it is above, so it is below; there is but ONE LIFE AND LAW; and he that worketh it is ONE. (The Secret Doctrine and its Study, quoted in Foundations of Esoteric Philosophy, 65-6)

By Christine Pomeroy

Originally printed in the MAY-JUNE 2006 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Pomeroy, Christine. "Explorations: The Awakening Is at Hand." Quest  94.3 (MAY-JUNE 2006):108-109.

Everything you need to know is within you. Dreams are a gift. They open the door to the inner light. Dreams are a valuable tool to assist with daily questions. They reveal answers and offer understanding. During sleep, we are able to rest the physical body, while the mental body plays out the issues at hand. Dreams provide the healing, strength and insight necessary to cope with life's challenges and times of crisis. What is needed is provided at the most perfect time, and in the most perfect way. But it is also important to ask, and especially to listen

For those who listen, dreams can forewarn of events yet to come. But you must be able to discern the difference between being warned and working out a waking problem. For example, if you dream of changes occurring at your place of employment, you could interpret the meaning as either relating to changes taking place inside of you or changes that are soon to come at work, thus preparing the waking body for the changes at hand.

Interpreting dreams can be complex. Understanding a given dream is best left up to the dreamer. What may be understandable for you, does not necessarily place well for another. To the average person, dreaming of a house would represent areas to move through in daily activities. But to someone growing spiritually, a house may symbolize the consciousness and areas not yet discovered. The overall theme of a house represents the areas and levels of the mind. The idea is to keep moving through the house and open up the mind to new avenues of consciousness.

Dreaming of a kitchen could be symbolic of nourishing the self with spiritual food, i.e., wisdom, light, truth. But for another individual, the kitchen may be a literal warning about what one needs to change in terms of diet. Thus, the same dream theme for two different people does not have the same meaning. Once again such a dream interpretation is best left up to you to work out for yourself. Think about the dream. Work it out in your thoughts. Talk it out with the self. The revelation of the meaning will soon come in hand, if you are patient and persistent.

With all dreams, the use of symbols is for us to piece together like a puzzle; life in and of itself gives signs and symbols everyday. Pay attention to signs in everyday activities, during your waking hours. Sometimes the answer comes in other ways. For example, one such sign would be repeatedly hearing the same song on the radio. Listen to the lyrics for an answer. Our angels have a way of communicating to us through music. Another example would be seeing a bird not common to your area. A white dove would be symbolic of peace and love as well as purity. Smelling scents of perfume, flowers or incense might coincide with a person or event to come. The list goes on. It is up to us to see and look within for complete understanding. With time, patience and practice, you will put together your own puzzle. And as the picture becomes clearer, you will be most happy with what you see.

Over the years, I have found that the more you grow towards the light within, the greater the dreams that are given. Our state of mind plays a big role in the dreams that come to us. The more turbulent our life is, the more turbulent our dreams are. The more peaceful we are, of course the more peaceful our dreams become. That which you are, and focus on, is what comes to you during the hours of sleep. Think upon these things.

Remembering dreams can be difficult at times due to the hurried lifestyles we all live. Once you are in a receptive frame of mind, you must be patient in order to receive answers. To start recalling dreams, keep asking the same question before going to sleep. I find that more answers come to me in dreams when I take short naps. Choose a comfortable position, ideally with the head facing north, and ask the body to wake within one hour. The body will listen.

To further your growth in recalling dreams, as well as interpreting them, write down questions that you would like to receive answers for, and follow up with recording the dreams. If you are patient and persistent, the answers will come eventually. Be sure to notice feelings and thoughts that you have when awakening from sleep. These will also guide you to that which you seek.

Clear memories of dreams will increase as you grow spiritually. We are all spiritual in our own way. Today, many of us are striving for a deeper sense of connection and meaning in life. The answer is within. Each of us is on our own path in life: yet we are reaching for the same goal, the Light Consciousness within. The more you come to see the truth within, the more you discover how much there is to know. Nothing more will be revealed to you than you can handle at this moment in time.

Through dreams, we can all gain a more perfect understanding of our relationships with those in our lives, as well as God within ourselves. And, as our minds become nearer to that God-Consciousness within, the greater will be the visions and dreams that come will be . Interpret them in your own language and understanding, for when you do so, the awakening is at hand.

To further aid you in understanding of dreams, I recommend Dreams Your Magic Mirror by Elsie Sechrist (A.R.E. Press, 1995) and The Dream Dictionary by Jo Jean Boushahla and Virginia Reidel Geubtner (Berkley Publishing Group, 1993)

Christine Pomeroy has been a member of Theosophical Society for ten years, and is currently employed at the Theosophical Publishing House. Her interest in metaphysics has focused on dream interpretation, pine wisdom, and the consciousness of Christ. This is her first contribution to Quest.