Not Another New Age!

Printed in the Spring 2013 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Bloom, William
. "Not Another New Age!" Quest  101. 2 (Spring 2013): pg. 50 - 53.

By William Bloom

Theosophical Society - WILLIAM BLOOM is a modern Western mystic and considered by many to be Britain's leading and most experienced mind-body-spirit teacher. He is the founder of Spiritual Companions. He cofounded and directed the famous Alternatives Program of St. James's Church, Piccadilly, London. For thirty years he was a senior faculty member of Europe's leading green and spiritual community, the Findhorn Foundation. He is the author of many books, including the influential The Endorphin Effect, Psychic Protection, and most recently The Power of the New Spirituality (Quest Books)It was embarrassing when I read Norman Cohn's book The Pursuit of the Millennium and discovered that, decade by decade for centuries, there had been many groups of crackpots claiming that a new age or an apocalypse was imminent. 

My embarrassment deepened when, as a mature student, I took a degree at the London School of Economics, studied social anthropology, and learned that it was normal for excited groups of people, including scholars and intellectuals, to make extravagant claims, some of which have led to religious cults. In particular, I squirmed when I read about cargo cults, a phenomenon that occurred when previously isolated tribal peoples met European explorers for the first time and thought they were gods sent from heaven. 

Before learning about these common social and cultural movements, influenced by altered states of consciousness and reading many books, I had been naively confident that we were living at the beginning of a New Age. I had experienced the 1960s and Flower Power, with its anthem about the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. Then I took a two-year retreat beginning in 1972, disappearing into the High Atlas Mountains of southern Morocco to perform the six-month ritual of Abramelin the Mage, which is designed to enable the practitioner to obtain knowledge of and conversation with his holy guardian angel. (For an account of my retreat see my book, The Sacred Magician: The Diary of a Ceremonial Magician, Glastonbury, U.K.: Gothic Image, 1992.) I also read a weighty trunk full of esoteric books including the major works of H.P. Blavatsky, C.W. Leadbeater, Annie Besant, and Alice Bailey. In all of these substantial texts, there was a underlying and recurring message that humanity was in the process of a cosmic growth spurt and all was about to change. I felt that they explained and described my own personal experience of the zeitgeist. It was obvious, wasn't it? Everything was changing. 

I wrote about the New Age. I started a New Age community. I edited the first anthology of New Age writings for a television series for Britain's Channel Four. I became part of the faculty at Europe's leading New Age center, the Findhorn Foundation. I helped start a major New Age program at St. James's Church, Piccadilly, in London. I befriended leading New Age thinkers such as David Spangler and Eileen Caddy. I became a speaker at academic conferences on the New Age.

Yet in reflective moments I could not ignore the psychological, historical, and anthropological insights. Perhaps this New Age was just another myth, another cargo cult, layered on top of irrational human arousal.

There were also realistic questions to be asked, such as, is our age more significant than the Stone Age, Iron Age, Ice Age, the settling of hunter-gatherers, the Reformation, the Renaissance, or the Industrial Revolution? Certainly there are some profound social and cultural shifts, notably the dismantling of ageism, sexism, patriarchy, and racism, as well as the information technology revolution, which has created the global village. These are important significators, but do they constitute a New Age? 

The Theosophical approach presents us with a really grand cosmic claim that humanity is experiencing the most significant shift in the whole of its history. At the core of this claim is a cosmic map and humanity's crucial role within it. To state the obvious first, this map contains the basic premise that we human beings are souls in incarnation. We have personalities, but these are just temporary vehicles for identities that are far more enduring and meaningful. Moreover, our souls"sparks emerging from a divine and cosmic breath"are not only individual but are also part of a collective endeavor. The purpose of this endeavor is to anchor spirit "compassion, benevolence, and unconditional love"into the dense matter of earth. We are all souls, incarnate in flesh and blood vehicles, and we are, so to speak, on a collective mission sent by deity.

This process is a long journey of experience, learning, and development for all of us. Beginning as innocent and unrealized waves or sparks of love, moving through cycles of incarnation, we develop and manifest consciousness, compassion, and wisdom"until finally it is our individual destiny to manifest an incarnation so radiant with consciousness and love that we are freed from the cycle of reincarnation, freed from samsara, and join the community of liberated adepts, bodhisatwas, and realized Masters of Wisdom.

At the very core of this process is a cosmic intention. We, as souls, are agents of spirit, bringing the resonance of love and new consciousness down into dense matter. This story is told not only in Theosophy but also in Tibetan Buddhism, the Vedas, Gnostic Christianity, Kabbalah, Sufism, the Western and Middle Eastern Mysteries, and other esoteric traditions. It is told too in the symbolism of myths about fallen angels and slain solar deities. Our purpose as souls is to bring love into matter and revibrate it. And this is happening within a greater context and set of relationships in which earth is connected to the other planets in our solar system, and our solar system is linked with other stars and constellations. (For a detailed explanation of these planetary chains and cycles see H.P. Blavatsky's Secret Doctrine as well as Alice Bailey's Treatise on Cosmic Fire and Esoteric Astrology.) Within this context, we human souls are playing out a role that is significant not just for each of us personally but also for our solar system and beyond. 

This long process begins with a cycle that lasts millions of years as our souls seek to land and anchor fully into earthy matter. In Theosophy this long first stage is called the involutionaly, cycle. The crucial claim made by Blavatsky and Bailey is that the involutionary cycle is today finally beginning to achieve its purpose: the vibration of our souls"the resonance of compassion and unconditional love"is now landing deep into matter. Over millions of years our souls have been slowly descending through the mental and astral planes down into the etheric planes. Finally we are beginning to fully touch down into the densest etheric, gaseous, liquid, and material planes.

This involutionary achievement was, it is sometimes suggested, made possible by the collaborative endeavor of the Buddha and Christ, the Buddha preparing the mental energy body of humanity as a whole for such a deep incarnation, and Christ penetrating deep through the emotional and physical realms. These two great beings were leaders of our flock.

According to this map, now that our souls have fully descended into matter through the involutionarly, process, they can now begin to ascend, as a whole, into a more graceful evolutionary cycle. This collective shift is a pivotal time for our planetary chain, the Solar Logos, and beyond.

Now —just to play devil's advocate for a moment—this is a really fabulous piece of anthropocentricity, isn't it? Just in case we humans are not pompous enough, this viewpoint asserts that humanity is pivotal in the evolutionary process of our solar and  galactic system and beyond! Hm. Such delusion. Such arrogance. 

So why do I believe it? For two reasons. 

The first is that this model explains to me the extraordinary experience of being human. Without exception every spiritual traveler that I know, including me, endures (and enjoys) the wildest and most paradoxical roller-coaster of a journey. Inside our minds, emotions, and psyches, we are all mood-swinging dramatists, one moment cosmic, divine, brilliant, and wise, and the next moment irritable, driven by uncontrollable mammalian instincts, defensive-aggressive, neurotic, and incredibly petty (Speak for yourself, I hear you say No, I reply, I speak for all of us!)

We are all of us strung out between cosmic consciousness and neurotic pettiness. What explains this extreme polarity? Our drama"our sacred drama"is, I believe, explained by our location in the scheme of things. We are central agents of transformation as spirit meets, marries, and revibrates matter, as involution turns to evolution. That is our essential esoteric function and purpose. We are the pivot where spirit meets and transforms matter. That is bound to create esoteric friction and "electric fire" playing out in and through us.

Then there is a second reason why I believe it, which points to something more easy, enjoyable, and graceful. Let me pose it first as an enquiry: How might you personally experience the full involutionary incarnation of your soul? What would it feel like when your spirit successfully incarnates into your matter? How would you recognize it?

The answer seems obvious to me, and it behooves us here to be kinesthetically and clairsentiently wise. As our souls ground fully into our bodies, down into our cellular and atomic matter, we would sense and feel the sensations of spirit, compassion, and unconditional love anchoring down into our vehicles. We would feel the incarnation of love in our bodies.

In my case, this is precisely the experience I have when I am in a state of graceful meditation. Perhaps for you too. This is also precisely the experience I have when I am centered, compassionate, and present. My mind and psyche are calm and watchful, whilst my body feels subtle sensations of well-being and goodwill.

I hear from my friends, colleagues, and students that they too have many similar experiences, some within meditation or other spiritual practices, but also in many other circumstances such being in a natural landscape, caring, healing, reading, making love, and participating in the arts, dance, sport, and so on. 

This is supremely and gracefully simple, isn't it? When spirit incarnates fully into matter"when love earths"of course we feel it as a deep and contented sensation in our physical bodies. Why should it not be that simple? The major cosmic narrative is that spirit is incarnating into matter. As it is above, so it is below. Our microcosms reflect the macrocosmic process. In his case, you and I are the space of encounter for both "above" and "below," and when it happens "below" we have love descending into the matter of our bodies, the soul fully entering its temple.

We can therefore see that a crucial part of our work as esotericists and travelers on the spiritual path is to land love into our bodies. It is no idle coincidence that at precisely the same time that meditation practices and Theosophical ideas began to emerge in Western culture, so also did the body-based approaches of yoga, martial arts, sacred dance, Tantra, breath work, and healing bodywork. In my own life, for example, I was very lucky when in my early thirties my oldest friend brought me over to California to experience deep tissue massage and healing hot springs. Initially my esoteric intellectuality was resistant, but my body opened up to receive my incarnation. I felt love and healing in my cells.

This was true incarnation. The altered states of consciousness and transcendent energies of my meditations were landing in my flesh and blood temple. I began experientially to understand incarnation and the involutionary cycle.

This embodiment must, I suggest, be a core part of the mature practice of a modern esotericist. Using whatever method and circumstances work best for you, come down into your body, sink into your flesh, relax, and allow your soul to find accommodation fully within you. Do this mindfully and with waking, expanding consciousness. You probably already do this very successfully when you are relaxed after a good meal or have walked and paused to enjoy a view. Your body is relaxed. You are naturally meditative. In those moments, you can just become more mindful and allow love and goodwill and compassion to sink into you. There is a wonderful simplicity here. The more we do it, the easier it becomes. But this requires self-management, discipline, and focus.

In all spiritual practices there is the consistent call to ground, earth, center, and embody. This is not just for stability and integration. It is also to allow the soul fully to inhabit its temple"your body. 

Imagine a society filled with people who have love anchored and radiating from their bodies"and are conscious and awake. That would be a new age.


WILLIAM BLOOM is a modern Western mystic and considered by many to be Britain's leading and most experienced mind-body-spirit teacher. He is the founder of Spiritual Companions. He cofounded and directed the famous Alternatives Program of St. James's Church, Piccadilly, London. For thirty years he was a senior faculty member of Europe's leading green and spiritual community, the Findhorn Foundation. He is the author of many books, including the influential The Endorphin Effect, Psychic Protection, and most recently The Power of the New Spirituality (Quest Books). His Web site is www.williambloom.com. This article originally appeared in the British Theosophical journal Esoterica


Viewpoint: Why Can't We All Get Along?

Printed in the Winter 2013 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Boyd,
Tim. "Viewpoint: Why Can't We All Get Along?" Quest  101. 1 (Winter 2013): pg. 8.

 By Tim Boyd

Theosophical Society - Tim Boyd was elected the president of the Theosophical Society Adyar in 2014. He succeeded Radha Burnier.Recently I have found myself wondering.  The text of the question would be something like, "Why do we keep repeating these same mistakes?", or "When will we ever learn?", or in the famous words of the late Rodney King, "Why can't we all get along?". The catalyst for this line of thinking is not some recent event, or some despondency over the state of the world. It is just one of those persistent questions that reemerges from time to time. Pick a day, any day, look around you and see if it isn't a question worth asking. Whether it is the world news, the office, or the home, if we really look at it we see that there is work we need to do. 

Any parent with a young child can tell you that this "why" line of inquiry is challenging. If persisted in, it has a way of ending up at the door of the unknowable. Why is the sky blue? Because the molecules in the earth's atmosphere scatter the blue waves more than the rest of the spectrum. Why do the molecules scatter the blue waves more than the rest of the spectrum? Because it is the nature of oxygen and nitrogen to absorb the other waves. Why is it  the nature of oxygen and nitrogen to absorb the other waves. Because... It all leads to one or two ultimate answers, either "I don't know", or  "God made it that way, and don't ask me any more questions!" 

As with many things perhaps it is not the specific answers which are valuable, but the process of exploration and openness that comes with questioning. The fact that any question, diligently pursued, must naturally exceed our intellectual grasp should not deter us.  In the words of the poet Robert Browning, "A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for". Our quest for knowledge begins with an assumption — that it is possible to know. Really, it is deeper than a mere assumption. Somewhere inside of us there is an intuitive, unassailable awareness that all knowledge is available to us.

Not too long ago while cleaning around the house I got something in my eye. Try as I might I could not get it out. All of the usual methods and tricks just could not dislodge it. I had no idea what it was, but I knew it was big. Honestly, it felt like a boulder had lodged itself in my eye. After a day and a night of constant discomfort I went to an eye doctor. He sat me down in his chair, focused the light on my eye, rolled back the eye lid, and removed the offending object. The sense of relief was immediate. For the past twenty-four hours I had gone about my normal duties doing my best to give them the proper attention, but the whole time my thoughts had been centered on the throbbing discomfort in my eye. When I asked the doctor to show me the particle I was amazed at its size. It was no bigger than the period at the end of this sentence. 

Thinking about it later, the whole thing seemed a bit incongruous. A particle that almost required a magnifying glass to be seen, something maybe one one-millionth the size of my body had fully taken over the field of my attention. The physical discomfort it entailed fixed my attention, first on the pain, and second on how to get away from it. Ideally, I was looking for a cure, but in the short term I would have settled for something to dull the pain or distract me from the suffering. 

When Buddha had his awakening and he delivered his first teaching, the first of his Four Noble Truths was the truth of suffering. It was an expression of the fact that living in the realms of body, emotion, and mind necessarily involves suffering on many levels, from the grossest physical pains to the subtle, pervasive awareness that nothing is constant or secure. During his life he often referred to himself as a doctor saying that his work was to prescribe a cure for this most basic of human maladies. In countless ways he noted that our methods for distracting ourselves from suffering, or dulling our sensitivity to it were not merely unproductive, but assured that the basic condition would continue and even grow. 

Some familiarity with the ageless wisdom teachings gives a sense of how we might approach the problem. They describe the process by which all things come into being. Simply put, there is Spirit, the One Life, which clothes itself in ever denser layers of "matter",  each successive layer serving as the vehicle for the expression of the previous, less material one. We are composed of everything from highest spirit to lowest matter. What we describe as our personalities — the combination of physical, emotional, and mental attributes — are the densest vehicles for the hidden spirit. A variety of terms have been used to identify these different vehicles of consciousness — koshas, principles, planes, fields, even "bodies". In the terminology of Theosophy we have the atma, buddhi, manas...progression. The central idea is that this process has its beginning and ending in Spirit — the One Life. 

So why can't we all get along? One of the reasons has been expressed in a variety of ways across spiritual traditions. It has also been expressed in the wisdom of popular common sense phrases. One such phrase is "the squeaky wheel gets the grease" - the idea that the loudest voice will be heard and attended to. In our case that voice is the clamor of desires and thoughts constantly calling out to be heard and satisfied. The technical term used to designate this dimension of human consciousness is kama-manas — the mind of desire. Even though the most powerful dimensions of our being lie outside of this narrow band of consciousness, we find ourselves habituated to serving the wants of this desiring mind which by its very nature continually places us in conflict with countless others whose differing desires seem to compete with ours. 

H. P. Blavatsky, in The Secret Doctrine, put her finger on the problem and its solution.

"Whatever plane our consciousness may be acting in, both we and the things belonging to that plane are, for the time being, our only realities. As we rise in the scale of development we perceive that during the stages through which we have passed we mistook shadows for realities, and the upward progress of the Ego is a series of progressive awakenings, each advance bringing with it the idea that now, at last, we have reached "reality"; but only when we shall have reached the absolute Consciousness, and blended our own with it, shall we be free from the delusions produced by Maya [illusion].

I have known people living in major cities who never left their neighborhood, never traveled so far as downtown. I have also known people who have traveled around the world, but never met or talked with the people who support their luxurious lifestyle, those that they viewed as servants — cooks, waiters, bell hops, drivers, farmers. In both our outer and inner life we tend to suffer from a lack of exposure. We are often content to find comfort in the familiarity of our current condition rather than risk the unknown.

The ray of hope for all of us is found in a simple fact. When it becomes clear that the suffering we experience and the collateral suffering we cause through our unintelligent living is just too much, we will decide that we have had enough. In the words of civil rights activist  Fannie Lou Hamer, "All of my life I've been sick and tired, but now I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired". The extremity of our discomfort drives us to find a better way. When this realization finally dawns on us we embark on the great experiment of self transformation. It is then that we  respond to the wisdom teachings and begin to acquaint ourselves with deeper dimensions of our own being. We study what has been said about these deeper layers. We take quiet time to first approach them, then immerse ourselves in that "field" that Rumi described as "out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing". Gradually we can establish a "new normal" for ourselves, a state that no longer requires conflict and competition for us to feel alive. This possibility is something which is available to us at any moment. In our quieter moments when we are alone and still we can sometimes feel it. As Dane Rudhyar writes in his  book, Occult Preparations for a New Age:

The Ocean of Infinite Potentiality surrounds us; we live, move, and have our being in it, but most of us refuse to feel, refuse to see, so wrapt are we in our frantic agitation, our fear, our masochistic concentration on how much we suffer. Such a suffering is in vain and calls for endless repetition. We must become still, and "feel" the soundless sound of the vast tides of spirit lapping at the shores of our consciousness, or perhaps beating at the jagged rocks of our pride and our greed. We must turn our consciousness toward this inner sea and try to sense the end of a cycle of experience peacefully moving into the yet imprecise and unfocused beginning of a new cycle. We must dare to summon the potentiality of an essentially new and, for us unprecedented beginning.

Peace.


Presidents Diary

Printed in the Winter 2013 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Boyd,
Tim. "Presidents Diary" Quest  101. 1 (Winter 2013): pg. 34.

By Tim Boyd

In July we held our Summer National Convention (SNC) at Olcott. It seems like ancient history now, but just one year ago our convention was built around the Dalai Lama's visit. This year's meeting was stellar.  In the past when the meetings ended, on a few occasions I found myself saying, "this is the best conference we have had." Whatever I may have said previously will have to be corrected because this year's was the best conference we have had. Really. The convention theme was "Science, History, and Healing — the Many Faces of the Ageless Wisdom". It featured theosophical historian Michael Gomes, physicist and movie icon Amit Goswami, director of the Krotona school Maria Parisen, healer and clairvoyant Robyn Finseth, director of research for the groundbreaking Heartmath Institute Rollin McCraty, and no less than Joy Mills herself.

While all of the speakers and their messages were challenging and inspiring, although it is probably not politically correct, some might even say it is in bad form to say it, I have to confess to having a personal favorite — Joy Mills. For the past few years Joy has made the point that her traveling days were over, and that if you want to see her it would have to happen at Krotona, and she has stuck to it. The original concept for this year's convention grew out of a conversation with Michael Gomes in which he noted that 2012 was the twenty-fifth anniversary of the release of his first book, The Dawning of the Theosophical Movement, and of Joy's first book, 100 Years of Theosophy. The thought was that it would be wonderful to have the two of them in conversation about the books, Theosophy, and our history. The only problem was getting Joy to travel. To make a long story short after some basic asking and undignified pleading did not yield results, I fell back on good old fashioned guilt. My final pitch to her was, "Joy, every TSA president going back to Sidney Cook has had you at their Summer Convention. Why me?" I don't know if it was the inherent logic in the request, or the tears that filled my eyes, but she came. 

 

Theosophical Society - Maria Parsons and Joy Mills, Fun NIghtMaria Parsons and Joy Mills - Fun Night

   

A couple of weeks after our convention ended it was time for the International Theosophy Conference (ITC). A year ago we had agreed to host the event at Olcott. The ITC is an international meeting that every year for more than a decade has brought together members from the Theosophical diaspora — the various Theosophical groups that have formed during the history of the movement. This year there were attendees from the Point Loma group based in Holland, the United Lodge of Theosophists, Alexandria West, the Paracelsan Order, and numerous individuals with diverse affiliations. In all a little over one-hundred people attended with participants coming from Europe, North and South America, and Africa. 

Immediately after the ITC closed my wife, Lily, and I were on a plane then a ferry headed for Camp Indralaya on Orcas Island in Puget Sound. I had been asked to participate in a program they call "Connections". My long time friend and TS coworker, Linda Jo Pym, before she died had suggested to me and to the event planners that I might be a good fit. Although I can't speak for the folks who attended, I can say for me that it was a wonderful experience. My part was to lead the daily discussions. The Connections program brings together about 70 people from age eight to eighty years old — families, friends, longtime camp members, new attendees — for a week of discussions, work, performance, and play. Everybody pitches in to make it happen — cooking, cleaning, working on building renovations, in the garden, playing spirited volleyball, the ones who didn't play were cheering for and occasionally critiquing those of us who did. It is a fine example of Theosophy in action. I have been invited back next year. A no-brainer. 

Every year for the past eleven, the first Saturday after Labor Day has been the time for our open house festival, TheosoFest. Historically during the summer months we have curtailed our programing in preparation for the SNC. Our programs resume in September. TheosoFest has been our way of kicking off the new season, inviting the local community to come out for a day of fun, a variety of talks on theosophical subjects, food, children's activities, meditation workshops, and vendors of all types. It is always a big deal for us that requires months of planning. The day's activities officially begin at 10 and go until 5 in the afternoon. The program for the day evolves from year to year. This year we had almost 40 talks presented at five locations on campus. The main categories were 45 minute Theosophy and related subjects, 45 minute meditation talk and practice, and a day of 15 minute talks in a large tent outdoors. Again this year we also had a well attended "Kids Korner" that featured a full day of kid friendly activities - yoga, storytelling, face painting, live music, even "Herbal Medicine for Kids" with Dr. Martha Libster. This year we had almost 1600 people attend. 

Also in September we had two significant inter-religious events. The first was an event which featured the Bahai religion. One-hundred years ago Abdul Baha, the son of the founder of the Bahai faith and leader of the faith at that time, visited the United States. During that visit on a number of occasions he met with theosophical groups. Valerie Dana who is the director of the Bahai National Assembly in the USA gave a Thursday night talk. During her talk she read from one of Abdul Baha's messages delivered at the Washington DC Theosophical Society. She also took time to elaborate on  some of the aspects of the Bahai faith. As the newest of the major world religions (dating back to 1863 and having six-million followers) it is quite remarkable how many important similarities it shares with Theosophy. 

A few days later we hosted the Inter-religious Prayers for Peace. This is a twice yearly event that brings together people from across the spectrum of religions to share prayers from their various traditions. The program is organized by Mahzer Ahmed, a long time friend of the TSA and recent member, who was born and educated in India and comes from the tradition of Islam. Mahzer has been active on the interfaith scene for years with the Parliament of World Religions and in numerous other outreach avenues. She and her husband, Hamid, founded a mosque in the local area. The meeting was quite well attended. When the prayers ended everyone was invited to our dining area for an Indian meal prepared by none other than Mahzer herself. We should have more programs like this — fattening the spirit and the body. 

The month closed with our second annual staff picnic, again organized by Mark and Kim Roemmich. It was a relaxing day for walks in the forest preserve, plenty of barbecue delights, and our annual round of bacci ball. Last year we made the mistake of dividing teams into male and female. It turned out to be a humbling disproof of any idea of male superiority. This year no myths were exploded. We played mixed teams. Last year's picnic claimed perfection on all counts. This year was its equal, just a little colder weather. Mark has promised that next year he will take care of the weather. I didn't ask how.


From the Editor's Desk Winter 2013

Printed in the Winter 2013 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Smoley,
Richard. "From the Editor's Desk" Quest  101. 1 (Winter 2013): pg. 2.

Theosophical Society - Richard Smoley is editor of Quest: Journal of the Theosophical Society in America and a frequent lecturer for the Theosophical SocietyAbundant food is one of the great blessings of our era. Unfortunately, the very quantity and variety of the food that's available to us create problems for our inner lives.

A hundred years ago foreigners regularly commented about the puritanism that Americans displayed about sex. Much has changed since then. We have become remarkably frank about sex. You can stand in the supermarket checkout line and see the blurbs on covers for women's magazines about having incredible orgasms and discovering the hottest sex secrets men don't want you to know. On the other hand, over the last generation it seems that a great deal of the discomfort towards sex that Americans once felt has been displaced onto food. Today food in practically all its forms induces a tremendous amount of anxiety. Advertisers even play to this occasionally. A few years ago a brand of especially rich ice cream used the slogan "Enjoy the guilt."

 Granted, there are reasons for this anxiety. Obesity rates are high and continue to soar higher. And many of our biggest health problems—diabetes, heart disease, and some forms of cancer—are caused by bad dietary habits. But it seems that everywhere you turn, there seems to be some reason for not feeling right about the foods you eat. This is true even of things that are usually considered beneficial. Fruits and vegetables cause fear because of the pesticide residues they may have in them. Rice, I learn from a recent issue of Consumer Reports, has been found to contain high quantities of arsenic. Even wheat, the most universal of foodstuffs, has come under suspicion, as increasing numbers of health problems have been traced to gluten.

Much of this apprehension is well-grounded, but soon a subtle dynamic comes into play. We feel guilty about eating something; this guilt makes us feel bad; and the bad feeling is itself a kind of punishment. Thus having paid the price for our behavior by beating ourselves up internally, we feel free to repeat the behavior. I suspect that many types of eating disorder have their root in this cycle.

The point is that guilt is not a solution for our food-borne anxieties; it is in large part the cause of them. While there is certainly every reason to consider one's dietary choices soberly and consciously, it's also wise to be realistic with yourself about what you are and aren't going to eat and make peace with yourself accordingly.

 What, then, about those who have made conscious and spiritually informed choices about their diet? Such people include Theosophists who practice vegetarianism. I would imagine that people in this category (and I am not among them) feel considerably less guilt and anxiety about food than most people. And certainly the decision to avoid meat is often inspired by the highest and most praiseworthy ideals, as Will Tuttle's article in this issue shows. But problems intrude here as well.

From an inner point of view, if you're following a diet that you consider to be superior to those of ordinary people, it can pose a subtle but powerful spiritual temptation. That temptation is known as pride. A number of the vegetarian Theosophists that I know occasionally give off a certain "stink of holiness" about their dietary practice, no matter how elevated its goals may be in and of themselves. While this attitude is sometimes unpleasant for others to be around, its greatest difficulty may be for those who practice it. It's a very short step from saying "Vegetarianism makes me a better person" to saying "Vegetarianism makes me a better person than people who eat meat." This kind of self-superiority can pose severe obstacles on the spiritual path.

 From an external point of view, the problem is similar. Some may find it tempting to sermonize about their practice. Not long ago, a seasoned observer of the Chicago spiritual scene said to me, "Whenever I go to the Theosophical Society, somebody gives me a lecture on vegetarianism." (Admittedly, this is probably less true today than it was years back.) For the most part, this simply doesn't work. As a rule people don't like preaching and won't be convinced by it. Preaching to the converted is so popular because it is the only kind that works; otherwise the hearer either stops paying attention or becomes even more firmly rooted in his resistance. I suspect that many people have been turned off to the Theosophical Society over the years not because of vegetarianism, but because of smugness about vegetarianism.

 What's the solution? Personally, I don't care for salesmanship. I believe it is possible to live and embody one's values without turning them into a commodity to be marketed. It makes me think of the Sufi order known as the "way of blame"—a group whose members make every effort to appear irreligious and nonobservant even though they are in fact highly devout. Should you become a secret vegetarian? Probably not. But there are times when it's valuable to know when to remain silent.

Richard Smoley


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