Quest Magazine

Originally printed in the January - February 2002 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Johnson, Andrew P. "Break on Through to the Other Side: Diruptions in Time." Quest  90.1 (JANUARY - FEBRUARY 2002):18-23.

Andrew P. Johnson

We chased our pleasures here. Dug our treasures there. Can you still recall the time we cried? Break on through to the other side. Break on through to the other side.

—Jim Morrison, The Doors, 1968, © Doors Music Company ASCAP

In his book Black Holes, Wormholes, and Time Machines, physicist Jim Al-Khalili suggests that time, like space, is an entity that simply exists without flowing in any direction and that the passage of time is simply an illusion. Time, on the other hand as we generally think of it, is not fixed but is constantly passing. Albert Einstein's theories of relativity propose that both speed and gravity can alter time (Hey and Walters). According to Larry Dossey, time can also be altered when the temporal and the cosmogonic realms converge at a single point.

This Side and That: Two Concepts of Time

The alteration of time is possible because time can be conceived as either linear or field. Linear time reflects the temporary world of cause and effect and is what most of us conceive of as time in phenomenal reality. This time moves from past to present and off in to the future like a row of dominos falling. Conversely, field time reflects the other side, the world of the soul, where past, present, and future are all parts of a single reality. The cadence of this other realm often leaks into our unconscious and out into the realm of the senses. Because of this leakage, we are aware of things yet to come in the form of precognition, intuition, clairvoyance, and prophecy. St.Paul describes this spiritual gift and others in 1 Corinthians 12.7 -10:

Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. To one there is given through the Spirit the message of wisdom, to another the message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit, to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy.

The great spiritual masters are able to access this realm and thus are not restricted by time and space. They can describe things future and interact with things past. In conversation with religious leaders, Jesus spoke about his ability to transcend time:

"Your father Abraham rejoiced at the thought of seeing my day; he saw it and was glad."
"You are not yet fifty years old," the Jews said to him, "and you have seen Abraham?"
"I tell you the truth," Jesus answered, "before Abraham was, I am."
At this, they picked up stones to stone him, but Jesus hid himself, slipping away from the temple grounds. [John 8.56 -59]

Shamans too are able to move out of linear time. Through trance (as Mircea Eliadereports) they are able to leave their body and enter dream time, which is the place before time when communication between the spirit and temporal realms is much easier. The ability to travel back and forth through time is available to all of us through the portal found in our unconscious, leading to the Self or the soul, which exists outside of time (Zukav). From that place, one's perception is unencumbered by the limitations of time as well as of space. In The Other Side of Silence (269), MortonKelsey states:

In the unconscious, the barriers of space and time do not exist, so there is nothing but our own desires and our view of things to keep us from being open to people in biblical times or in any age of history.

Disruptions in Time

We may experience the disruption of time and space in any of three ways, all of which can lead to personal growth. These three ways of experiencing disrupted time are synchronicity, meditation, and peak experiences.

Synchronicity

Made the scene, week to week, day to day, hour to hour. The gate is strait, deep, and wide. Break on through to the other side. Break on through to the other side. Break on through, break on through . . . .

—Jim Morrison, The Doors, 1968, © Doors Music Company ASCAP

In the lineal time of the temporal world, one event is always directly linked to another. For example, a person throws a rock and breaks your window. The throwing of the rock causes the window to break.However, when the other side breaks through to this side there are moments when the rules of time and space as we know them are suspended. For example, you have a feeling or impulse to move away from a window, and seconds later a rock comes flying through it. In this case, the effect happens first, and the cause happens second. This is synchronicity or meaningful coincidence.

Synchronicity is an a causal connection between psychic states and objective events. It is a relationship between incidents that happen together and are connected, not through cause and effect but through meaning. Whether the psychic states in synchronicity are actual mystical experiences emanating from the noumenal realm or are simply projections by the unconscious mind onto the phenomenal field to create meaning does not matter, as the result is the same in both instances.

There are various types of synchronicity, all of which are unrelated to the cause and effect regularities of temporal time and space. You maybe thinking of a person, and that person telephones you. Or you may have a suspicious feeling about someone you are with, and that suspicion turns out to be correct. Or a parent may sense that his or her child is in trouble. Or you may understand the link between multiple events that have happened or are currently taking place in your life so that you are able to see patterns in the incidents popping up around you and intuit the meaning these patterns have for you.

Meditation

You know the day destroys the night. Night divides the day. Tried to run, tried to hide. Break on through to the other side. Break on through to the other side. Break on through to the otherside.

—Jim Morrison, The Doors, 1968, © Doors MusicCompany ASCAP

We can create blips in time through meditation. Meditation is any practice in which the mind is stilled so that accurate images and intuitions can appear. The Buddhist mystic Thich Nhat Hanh, in his book Going Home, says a stilled mind is like the smooth surface of a pond inthat it reflects the images surrounding it. Whereas a turbulent mind creates a choppy pond surface and allows us to see only tremors and waves, a stilled mind creates a smooth pond surface that allows us to see things as they really are.

Peak Experiences

I've found an island in your arms, a country in your eyes. Arms that chain, eyes that lie. Break on through to the other side. Break on through to the other side. Break on through.

—Jim Morrison, The Doors, 1968, © Doors MusicCompany ASCAP

A peak experience or the state of flow described by Abraham Maslowand Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi is another condition in which the time-space continuum is temporarily disrupted. It is a moment of heightened concentration brought about when we are completely immersed in an activity that seems to challenge our technical skills and imagination. Although it occurs in many circumstances, this altered state is common among artists, musicians, and athletes who have mastered the skills of their field. In this state, people are able to create or perform from somewhere outside themselves and time is altered. Many hours may seem like a moment or a moment may seem like many hours. The apostle Peter (2Peter 3.8) describes this time difference: "But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day."

The peak experience has three elements in common with the Buddhist idea of right-mindedness:

1. You become totally immersed in the activity. Concentration is focused on the activity to the exclusion of almost everything else.Unrelated physical stimuli are often unnoticed. "When you are deeply concentrated, you are absorbed in the moment. You become the moment" (Nhat Hanh, Heart of the Buddha's Teaching 107).

2. Deep effort seems effortless. It is very peaceful in that state. All your resources are concentrated on the task at hand and thus associations are easily made and new insight is gained. "If we have joy, ease, and interest our effort will come naturally" (Nhat Hanh, Heart of the Buddha's Teaching 101).

3. Concern for self disappears. This is the phenomenon of the empty cup. You are aware of the moment, but not of self. Self becomes an empty cup used to contain perceptions. A selfless moment is created to hold the experience so that it is untainted by preconceived ideas or emotions. The Gospels repeatedly quote Christ as saying that we must lose our life in order to save it. This losing of life refers to the disappearance of self when we are able to accept the moment fully. "Your concept or perception of reality is not reality. When you are caught in your perceptions and ideas, you lose reality" (Nhat Hanh, Heart of the Buddha's Teaching 55).

Using Disruptions in Time

Disruptions in time enable us to break through to the other side in order to touch eternity. But to what end? Time disruptions can be used to reconnect us with unconscious content, to restore balance between our inner and outer life, and to encounter important guideposts for our spiritual journey. Below are six activities to use for these ends.

Using Synchronicity

1. Inductive analysis. This activity helps you see patterns and begin to understand the link between multiple events happening in your life. Inductive analysis, a term taken from qualitative research, means to look at a field and put order to it by finding patterns and arranging things into groups (Johnson). In this case, the field is your life. List important events in your life. Write quickly without pausing to analyze or reflect. Then look for patterns or similar things. What feelings or types of incidents seem to occur three or more times in a short span? Put these common elements into groups. Finally, what does it mean? What is the metaphor? What are you to learn? By looking for patterns and honoring your insights, you will begin to perceive on a deeper level and be able to use your insights as a teacher and guide.

2. Time travel. This activity also helps you find the link between multiple events happening in your life. It has five steps: First, go back in time and pick a meaningful event. Second, use a journal to describe feelings, thoughts, or ideas related to this event. Third, find a current event that evokes one or more feelings, thoughts, or ideas that are similar. Fourth, list the external things or circumstances that are similar between these two events. Finally, look for the metaphor or the lesson.

3. The daily double. This activity is used to strengthen the link between intuition, current events, and future events. Make a journal entry and date it. Then draw a vertical line down the middle ofthe page. On the left side, first thing in the morning, record your inner feelings, ideas, dreams, or associations. On the right side, at the end of the day just before you go to bed, record the external events of that day that are interesting or important. As the days pass, you will begin to see the intuitive, left side matching up with the events of that day or a future day recorded on the right side.

4. Power write. This activity strengthens the link between the unconscious and current events. Try to catch and write down as many ideas as you can in a three-minute period of time. Keep your pencil moving, and write down the first thing that comes to your mind. If you do this correctly, your writing will be very disjointed. Don't be afraid to use scribbles, scratch marks, arrows, diagrams, single words, incomplete sentences, and quick impressions. The goal is to get beyond the logical mind to find the images residing in the unconscious. Within a couple of days, you will get very good at doing so and will begin to see things appearing on the pages that are outside your conscious thoughts. Some of these things will be from the past and some from the future.
   
   

   Using Meditation
   
   

5. Embrace silence. Silence is needed to understand fully our emotions and unconscious promptings (Miller). It is very hard to attend to the inner if we constantly fill our heads with chatter and endless noise. Silence here means internal silence or quieting of the mind. To use silence, take a few minutes every day, breathe deeply, empty the cup of the mind, think of nothing, and then begin to watch the thoughts and images running through your head. You may wish to record these in a journal so that you can see the patterns that appear over time.
   
   

   Using Peak Experiences
   
   

6. Find your passion and act on it. This is what mythologist Joseph Campbell calls finding your bliss. Your passions (in the sense of your intense, driving conviction, devotion, and interest) are the keys to knowing who you are and what your task is here on this plane. For example, if you have a passion for music, indulge yourself in it. This does not mean you have to give up your job and become a professional musician; rather, give yourself time to learn or relearn an instrument, join a musical group, or simply listen to the music that moves you to a higher place. Peak experiences occur when you are acting on your passion and serve to create sacred spaces. These spaces are the holy ground of the burning bush that elevate our consciousness so that we can sense the Divine and allow the unfolding of the universe to take place within us. Peak experiences also enable the guiding metaphors of our passions to trickle out into our lives.

Remember

Finally, we must remember where we come from. We are beings of eternity, able to access eternity to guide us during our very brief visit on this plane, and we will eventually return to eternity:

You have elected to be in time rather than eternity and therefore you believe you are in time. Yet your election is both free and alterable.You do not belong in time. Your place is in eternity. [A Course in Miracles 86]

References

 Nhat Hanh, Thich.

Andrew Johnson is co-director of the Center for Talent Development at Minnesota State University. His last article in the Quest (November-December 2000) was "The Spirituality of Oz: The Meaning of the Movie."

Originally printed in the January - February 2002 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Michelson, Helen. "All Holiness is One." Quest  90.1 (JANUARY - FEBRUARY 2002):26-27.

Helen Michelson

Here are some thoughts that came to me after consecutive trips to Greece and Ireland.

In ancient times, every spring where the faithful came to worship the everlasting source of life had its goddess or nymph. These springs have continued to bubble through the centuries and indeed have absorbed the essence of the souls who worshipped there. The names of those revered have changed, but the feelings of love and reverence remain.

The guide book says, "Olympia . . . the site of the original Games.Not much to see except some rather uninteresting ruins." From this drab description I was hardly prepared for the surge of awe I felt when inthe presence of an antiquity that most certainly predated the Games and probably the ancient Greeks themselves.

I looked out over the wide plane in the western Peloponnesus, a valley silver green with olive trees, and at the distant brown hills. It must always have looked like this, I thought, for there is nothing but the rocky earth that will grow crops only with a great deal of effort, and yet it is a land that draws one like no other. I missed seeing the field of wildflowers in the springtime, described to me by my much-traveled British companion, but never mind, I was here at last.

I was prepared to feel transported by the sight of the ruins all about me–the colossal stumps from the Temple of Zeus, the gentler remains of Hera's lovely sanctuary, and, through a tumbled archway at one corner, the stadium with its grassy slopes–and columns everywhere, some stacked haphazardly, some left where they had fallen eons ago.Thank God (or the gods) for the Greeks, I thought, they leave things alone. They allow you to think, to imagine, and maybe to remember.

Fascinated, I felt drawn back through time, an intruder, for women were forbidden to enter the sanctuary of Olympia in the old days.

Overwhelmed and feeling the need to be alone, away from the hum of tourists, I wandered from my group and presently found myself before a grove of trees. This is a holy place, my inner self said. I knew that a sacred spring bubbled in the grove, secret beneath mossy stones, and that it had been here long, long before the Games. I was certain it had always been here. The first mortal who had found it dedicated it to the Goddess, the nameless Goddess, the mother of the earth, the source of life, a dedication made long before the Greeks created their Olympus of anthropomorphic deities. And through the years it became a sanctuary and drew the faithful. That is what I felt–centuries of accumulated, almost tangible, emotion: love, wonder, reverence, devotion.

The sound of voices and the scuffle of feet on the gravel path brought me back to the present. Someone clicked a camera shutter, and I thought, I will, too, because I must have a record of this place. I took a whole roll of film, but not one picture came out. Not one. It was the only roll of my entire trip that was blank, suggesting that there are some things not to be photographed.

That evening, back on board ship, I leaned on the railing and held a glass of wine while I watched Apollo spread his golden streamers over the gnarled fingers of the Peloponnesus, grabbing at the sea. "Here's to you, Poseidon," I whispered, holding out my glass. "For I know you and all your cronies still inhabit this antique land," and I poured the wine, as a libation, into the Aegean.

In Ireland a year later, I was lucky enough to be hiking near Maam Cross in Connemara, one of earth's wilder, windier, and more magnificent spots. We had climbed all morning through shine and showers and finally reached a high, rocky pass dedicated to St. Patrick–rather bleak Stations of the Cross stepping along close to the rock wall. Nearby was a spring, forever deep, cold and windswept, surrounded by its pathetic offerings: a bit of candle, a few coins, a tiny statue, a scribbled prayer, some shells. My eyes filled at the sight, and again I felt the surge of understanding, of the love and veneration left here over the years by the poor, dear bits left by the faithful. This source surely predated St. Patrick, when some woman, perhaps, left a sprig of flowers, a little fruit, a dish of milk, to a nameless Goddess.

I spoke of it later to our young Irish guide, and he, in typical Celtic fashion, accepted the mystical as an everyday fact of life. "Sureand I don't believe in leprechauns, but they're there anyway." He nodded his head as I told him my similar story in Greece. "Ah," he said, " the Goddess has her secret sanctuaries on this planet. They were recognized by the ancients and occasionally by one of us, too," and he looked at me. "All the gods are one, now aren't they? All holiness is one."

Helen Michelson, a third-generation New Yorker, says that after September 11 her essay on the everlasting springs seem other worldly."But on second thought," she adds, "perhaps not. Springs–symbolic, mystical, and often actual sources of life–will continue to flow long after this, our latest holocaust, has been laid to rest, hopefully with compassion and sanity. For, as the Dalai Lama said, anger is the real enemy." And she writes us: "Yesterday I went into the city for my first look at the Pile, as those who have been digging there so lovingly call Ground Zero. There are really no words to describe the shock, the devastation is so great and vast and overwhelming, but I was glad I went. Everyone who has the opportunity should make the pilgrimage. And that's what it really is. On my return trip uptown on the 7th Avenue bus, I passed a little cafe called La Belle Vie. Yeah, right, I thought. At the next stop a gaggle of little school kids, screaming and laughing and jostling each other, scrambled aboard, and I changed my mind. Maybe la vie can be belle after all, if we work at it."

Originally printed in the January - February 2002 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Ravindra, Ravi. "Speaking form the Right Heart." Quest  90.1 (JANUARY - FEBRUARY 2002):4-7, 23.

Ravi Ravindra

I had been asked by the editors of an encyclopedia to write an article on Krishnamurti. I prepared the outline, made extensive notes,and had a special interview with him to make sure that what I hadwritten reflected his thought accurately. I asked him whether"intelligence beyond thought" was the central thing he spoke about. Heagreed, but without much feeling. Suddenly, he was animated: "Take the risk, sir. Say what you wish. If you speak from the heart, I'll agree.Take the risk."

What is the risk in speaking from the heart? Vulnerability, above all. There are first of all concerns about "what would they say?" The carefully polished image of myself that I wish to project for others to see may be tarnished if they see me as I am. I may be exposed. This is,to be sure, a sort of conscience that keeps the usual social interactions proceeding more or less smoothly. But the real difficulty lies in the fact that we do not know what is deep down in our heart. Many sacred texts say that the Highest resides in the deepest part of each creature, as in the Bhagavad Gita (15.15) when Krishna says, "I dwell deep in the heart of everyone." We do not know Krishna, the highest God, and a part of ourselves knows this. This ignorance bothers our conscience, making us vulnerable, for the awakening of conscience is the opening of the heart.

Although it has become acceptable in the last few decades to speak in terms of levels of consciousness, one rarely comes across a discussion of levels of conscience. Even in the great traditions, one can see different emphases. The insight-and-truth traditions, such as the Hindu-Buddhist, have elaborate descriptions of various levels and states of consciousness, whereas in the faith-and-love Biblical traditions, the emphasis is much more on the various levels ofconscience, although it is not so labeled in these traditions. Examples can be found in two well-known traditional texts: The Tibetan Book ofthe Dead and Dante's Divine Comedy, both of which deal with the journey of the soul after death and with the cultivation of the right quality of life. The former addresses levels of consciousness; and the latter, those of conscience.

This major difference between the Biblical and the Indic traditions—of emphasis on conscience or on consciousness—is related to another important difference between these two streams of spirituality. In Biblical traditions, the root cause of the human predicament is an assertion of human self-will as opposed to the will of God, as revealedin his commandments. "Nothing burneth in hell except self-will," says the Theologia Germanica (chapter 34). And the whole exquisite agony ofthe cross—the way of the Christ—is in his last words in the Garden of Gethsemane: "If it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Yet not my will, but thine be done" (Mark 14.36; Ravindra, 151 -2). In Indic traditions, on the other hand, the root cause of the human difficulty is ignorance, which in its turn gives rise to suffering (dukkha) and to illusion (maya). In Biblical traditions, submission of our will in obedience to the will of God is called for; in Indic traditions, the requirement is for the sword of gnosis  to cut the knot of ignorance.

Another fundamental difference, intimately related to the preceding is that, in the Indic traditions, holding on to an ultimately separate individuality is a mark of ignorance, whereas in the Biblical traditions a lack of individuality—even in the presence of God—marks a lack of responsibility. In one case, the traditional emphasis is on the oneness of all, whereas in the other case, the emphasis is on the uniqueness of human beings from all other creatures and of each person with respect to every other. Both oneness and uniqueness are derived from the same root;but their meanings diverge radically.

Traditions that hold the ideal of oneness are insight oriented and have developed a great deal of wisdom about various levels of consciousness. These levels have always to do with degrees of steadiness of attention and gradations of clarity of perception. The traditions extolling uniqueness are faith-and-obedience oriented and have a great deal to say about individual responsibility and moral conscience corresponding to the quality of virtuous conduct or the degrees and the gravity of sinfulness. Levels of consciousness are emphasized in one case, whereas levels of conscience are stressed in the other.

It is possible, but neither generous nor insightful, to convince oneself that half the sages in the world have misunderstood the matter and only the other half have found the truth. Of course, once certain modes of expressions are used in a cultural and linguistic context, a traditional momentum develops. Only the modes and terms used by the great teachers in that tradition seem appropriate to its followers. This attitude is not so harmful by itself, but the trouble arises when the dogmatic section in any tradition insists that Truth can be expressed only in one form.

All the great teachers have said in one way or another that the experience of approaching God or Truth or Nirvana or Brahman or the Ultimate cannot be expressed in the language of the lower levels. They have all affirmed that a radical transformation of conscience-consciousness, a spiritual re-birth, is needed for us to experience the Real. The sages have articulated significant truths indifferent ways, often constrained by the abilities of their pupils and the specific language of their community, emphasizing what they themselves found helpful. The importance of the specific language context cannot be overemphasized.

In some cases, for example in French, Spanish, and Sanskrit, there isonly one word corresponding to both the English words consciousness and conscience. This fact alone should alert us to the possibility of anintimate connection between the two. The awakening of conscience is the feeling preparation for an enhancement of consciousness. It is not possible to come to a higher state of consciousness without coming to a higher state of conscience. On the other hand, those who are in touch with higher levels of consciousness naturally manifest largeness of heart. Inclusiveness and compassion bespeak a sage as a particular kind of fragrance does a rose.

The best of any tradition is an expression of the highest insights of its sages, and therefore at depth the tradition is always right. But it is also true that the tradition is almost always misunderstood, especially when taken externally and partially, with exaggerated emphasis on rational speculation or on sentimental devotion.We can see this historically: if the traditions had not been misunderstood, Krishna, the Buddha, and the Christ would not have thrown down such forceful challenges as they did before the official guardians of their traditions.

One sees not only that the traditions are continually betrayed, but that the traditions themselves betray the Truth—as is implied by the fact that the word tradition and the word treason come from the same source. Whenever a scholastic interpretation freezes a tradition into a rigid formulation, however liberating it had once been and however hallowed by time, the words of Krishna apply: "For one who truly knows,there is as much use in all the Vedas [sacred texts] as there is in a well when there is a flood of water on all sides" (Bhagavad Gita 2.46).

From the perspective of practice and experience, we may too quickly imagine that we can speak of or know the highest reality or the deepest truth. It is very easy to be lost in fantasy. The soul has many levels of depth, many levels of realization, as it also does of ignorance and thus of conscience. In the felicitous expression of Meister Eckhart,"our soul is as infinite as God." Wherever we are, we can always attempt to be in touch with what is more deeply true.

So, in trying to speak from the heart, we need to keep in mind the unending depth of being. We need to become freer both of ourselves and of the tradition—the scaffolding of our position, rationality, and law—+and take our stand only in what is vaster than what our egos or our concepts can contain. Brahman, which literally means the Vastness, is everywhere, but especially experienced in that depth of the heart where attachment to remaining small can be sacrificed. "Through the heart one knows truth," says the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (3.9.23) and later with deeper emphasis, "Heart is the supreme Brahman" (4.1.7).

Whoever speaks from the heart runs the risk of being considered an outlaw and a fool:

Make no mistake about this, if there is anyone among you who fancies himself wise—wise, I mean, by the standards of the passing age—he must become a fool to gain true wisdom. For the wisdom of this world is folly in God's sight. Scripture says, "He traps the wise in their own cunning," and again, "The Lord knows the arguments of the wise are futile." [1 Cor. 3.18-20]

St. Paul speaks of being in one's right mind (Coomaraswamy), but it could equally well be the right heart; for the right mind, or the higher mind-heart, belongs to a different level of substantiality and comes into existence only by a delicate combination of the attributes usually associated with heart and mind, of conscience and consciousness, of love and truth, of compassion and wisdom. Since "mind" and "heart," as we commonly use the terms, do not permit the necessary finesse of levels of heart and mind, it is useful to retain traditional words, such as buddhi in Sanskrit or nous in Greek.

According to a simile used in the Katha Upanishad (1.3:3-4), thehuman body is like a chariot whose steeds are the senses; mind or discursive intellect (manas) is the reins; soul or contemplative intellect (buddhi) is the charioteer; and the Self or Spirit (Atman) is the owner of the chariot. Buddhi is the integrated intelligence that stands between the human mind and the Spirit, between what is below and what is above, between the individual and the cosmos.It is the will that can orient a human being towards the light of the Spirit and give direction to the mind and the senses.

On the other hand, if the senses get unruly, like the steeds of a chariot, they affect the mind, which in turn leads to dissipation and fragmentation of the buddhi. The buddhi has an amphibious character. It can dive into and stay in the lower world of matter, or it can soar in to the higher realms of the Spirit. In the first case, a person is led into conflicting desires, illusion, and darkness. That is sin; that is what causes sorrow. In the other case, there is the possibility of movement towards light—towards understanding, integration, and unity.

The term buddhi, which denotes the subtlest and the highest faculty in human beings, is not translated easily (see endnote). The verbal root budh means "to wake up; to rise from sleep; to heed, attend to; to perceive, notice, learn, understand, become aware of; to have insight into, understand thoroughly." Buddhi thus means "returning to consciousness; presence of mind, intentions, purpose, design; perception, comprehension; intellect, understanding, intelligence, talent; discrimination, judgment, discernment." In the Sankhya Karika (23), buddhi is defined as adhyayasaya, "determination, resolution, mental effort, cognition, awareness."

Buddhi is above manas, which is the mind as thinking faculty involved in ratiocination and comprising the totality of human emotional and intellectual possibilities. This is why it is termed mahan (the Great One). It is also known as prajna (wisdom, discernment), dhi (intuition, imagination), khyati (knowledge, power of distinguishing objects by appropriate names), smrti (memory,remembrance), chitta (comprising the functions of both the reasoning faculty and the heart, namely observing, thinking, desiring, and intending). It is the integrated intelligence above thought.

Other spiritual disciplines also speak of this faculty. St. Gregoryof Sinai (quoted in Writings from the Philokalia 38) said, "A true sanctuary . . . is a heart free from thoughts, made active by the Spirit." And Nicephorus the Solitary (24 -5, 33) said, "God appears to the mind in the heart, at first as a flame purifying its lover, and then as a light which illumines the mind and renders it God-like . . . . The mind, when it unites with the heart, is filled with unspeakable joy and delight. Then a man sees that the kingdom of heaven is truly within us."

The truly right heart-mind is without measure, unlimited, naturally ordered, and full of truth, as Patanjali puts it in the Yoga Sutras(1.48). The deeper one can dwell in the right heart, the closer one is to the Unconditioned Real. If I could speak from there, Krishnamurti would agree. Unaccustomed to the depths, the mind wishes to swim on the surface.

Ibn 'Ata' Allah, the thirteenth-century Sufi sage, spoke from the heart when he said, "The Real is not veiled from you. Rather, it is you who are veiled from seeing It."

NOTE ON THE TERM buddhi. In translating the parable of the chariot in the Katha Upanishad (1.3:3-4), Radhakrishnan (623) renders it as intellect; Aurobindo (49) as Reason; Zimmer (363) as intuitive discernment and awareness; Zaehner (238) as soul. Zaehner's authority for his translation is based on verse 2.41 of the Bhagavad Gita, in which it is declared that the essence of the buddhi is will, which in the Christian tradition inheres in the soul. In other connections, these authors and others translate buddhi as wisdom, consciousness, or awareness. It is useful to retain the Sanskrit word buddhi because any rendering into English is problematic. I think the closest one-word translation is soul, as distinct from mind as well as from Spirit or Self. In the tripartite division of psyche made by Plotinus, integrated or purified buddhi is the highest element, which is directed to the contemplation of the Nous and the One; before purification, buddhi corresponds approximately to the middle element, which may be attracted upwards or downwards. The importance of buddhi and buddhi yoga in the Bhagavad Gita and its parallels in Greek thought are discussed by Armstrong and Ravindra. 

References

Ravi Ravindra is Professor and Chairman of Comparative Religion,Professor of International Development Studies, and Adjunct Professor of Physics at Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia. He is interested in understanding whether it is possible to go beyond a Hindu-Christian or an East-West encounter to a human-human one.

Originally printed in the January - February 2003 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Bland, Betty. "Climbing Trees and Initiations." Quest  91.1 (JANUARY - FEBRUARY 2003):2-3.

By Betty Bland

I recently watched a man trimming tree limbs that overhang power lines. He works for the power company as the foreman of an off-road crew of workers who climb trees in wilderness areas where trucks cannot go. It is an amazing sight to see a grown man run up the side of a tree as if he were running up the stairs in his own home. What would seem an impossible task is not so hard when one has the right strength, skills, and tools such as shoe spikes, safety belt, and ropes and pulleys—besides, of course, the requisite power saw hanging from his belt.

I commented to him about his skill, and he replied that he was just getting really good at it. He has climbed trees this way for twenty years, twenty to twenty-five trees a day, five days a week. The performance that looked so easy became so only because of much hard work. He was not so skilled at first, but developed his prowess over time. Time is that universal commodity that carries us along our path. As this new year edges into our awareness, we note its entrance and naturally reflect on beginnings. Every beginning is an ending of something old as well as the commencement of something new. A beginning is a kind of initiation, one among the many that we experience in a lifetime. Some initiations are a function of time, such as our passage from youth to adulthood, and again into middle age and old age. Other initiations are a result of our successfully traversing the gauntlets that life presents to us. In fact, if we have committed ourselves to the spiritual path, life is one long series of initiations. Every trial and every problem to be solved are chances to learn and opportunities to pass the test. If we fail, we can be sure the problem will arise again in a new way, against which we can struggle and strengthen our ability to finally overcome. Somewhere among the daily lessons, we gain insight so that what might have seemed insurmountable becomes merely a pebble on the way.

Some people think that spiritual initiations can be bought and sold, or at least bestowed on believers through incantations or rituals. This is a ridiculous pandering to our prideful nature. The credulous want to know the exact number of initiations they have passed and their own level of attainment—to put them a notch above others. Not long ago someone told me that this life was the last time they would have to be born into this world, having already achieved the fourth initiation. I was impressed at how far advanced they indeed must be—and yet I saw them struggling with the same kinds of issues that dislodge my own self-installed halo.

Chutzpah of this kind afflicted some members of the Theosophical Society in the early decades of the last century. Unfortunately a number of new aspirants were so excited about the ideal of human progression and perfection that they became carried away with their own self-importance. Such hubris, among other things, prompted the adepts to command that this "cant of the masters" must be put down. Today I hope that we have reached a level of maturity that will help us avoid that pitfall. Why should I mention a tree-climber at the beginning of a discussion about initiations? Like the tree-climber, we have to work to develop our strengths, which are developed only through concerted effort. Life skills, spiritual will, and the critical tool of ego-less wisdom are not imposed on us from outside. They are hard won through serious introspection, mindful living, and acts of kindness. We have to do our homework. There may be certain events, influences, or people that catapult us into setting our evolutionary course, but it is the self-induced and self-devised efforts of each soul on its obligatory pilgrimage (as H. P. Blavatsky indicates in the third fundamental proposition of The Secret Doctrine) that finally win the prize.

The razor-sharp abilities required to become an adept, a superhuman on the higher rungs of the evolutionary ladder, are not easily gained, nor do they puff up one's own self-importance. Rather, they bring us through the wilderness to the treetop—to the ultimate goal of service:

There is a road, steep and thorny, beset with perils of every kind, but yet a road, and it leads to the very heart of the Universe: I can tell you how to find those who will show you the secret gateway that opens inward only, and closes fast behind the neophyte for evermore. There is no danger that dauntless courage cannot conquer; there is no trial that spotless purity cannot pass through; there is no difficulty that strong intellect cannot surmount. For those who win onwards there is reward past all telling—the power to bless and save humanity . . . . (HPB, Collected Writings 13:219)

As we move along in this new year, let us hone our skills for the service of others. Let us make this a year of true initiation.