Original Vision: On the Choice of a New Life

Printed in the  Fall 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Macrae, Janet"Original Vision: On the Choice of a New Life" Quest 108:4, pg 15-18

By Janet Macrae

Theosophical Society - Janet Macrae is a coeditor of Suggestions for Thought by Florence Nightingale (University of Pennsylvania Press) and the author of Nursing as a Spiritual Practice: A Contemporary Application of Florence Nightingale’s Views (Springer). Her article “Florence Nightingale’s Scientific Spirituality” appeared in Quest, winter 2020.Many years ago, in a seminar at the New York Theosophical Society, a woman told about a spontaneous memory from the time before she was born. “I saw a vision of what I had to accomplish and what the difficulties would be. I remember saying, ‘Yes, I agree to this.’”

What prompted her to share this experience was the seminar topic: “Plato’s Myths and Metaphors,” given by Dr. Renee Weber. In the myth of Er, at the end of The Republic, Plato explained how a new life is a product of both chance and self-determination. In this story, Er, a soldier who had returned from the realm of the dead, reported that every individual in the group he observed was required to draw a lot. Then, one by one, each chose a life from among many lying on the ground. There were many more choices than individuals present, so that even the last one could probably have found a satisfactory life.

From Plato’s perspective, a satisfactory life is one that will make the soul more just. As the choice is critical for the soul’s development, it must not be made in an impulsive manner. It is essential to have a knowledge of one’s character and how it could be influenced by various experiences. An individual should know

what the effect of beauty is when combined with poverty or wealth in a particular soul, and what are the good and evil consequences of noble and humble birth, of private and public station, of strength and weakness, of cleverness and dullness, and of all the natural and acquired gifts of the soul, and the operation of them when conjoined; he will then look at the nature of the soul, and from the consideration of all these qualities he will be able to determine which is the better and which is the worse. (Plato, 300)

After choosing their lives, the group of souls walked in a scorching heat through the plain of Forgetfulness. Arriving at the river Lethe (“Oblivion”), they were all obliged to drink a certain quantity of the water. “And each one as he drank forgot all things” (Plato, 302). But those who were not saved by wisdom drank more than was necessary.

Some striking similarities to Plato’s account can be found in the work of Dr. Michael Newton, a psychotherapist and master hypnotist who has devoted his career to the study of the period between death and rebirth. Newton’s hypnotized subjects remember seeing samples of lives in a location resembling a multidimensional movie theater. These viewings only occur, however, after much consultation with guides and members of peer groups, during which they analyze the successes and mistakes of the past as well as their desires for the future. The critical issue is the growth of the soul: what things need to be learned and what kind of life will provide the best opportunities to learn them. When asked under hypnosis about his reaction to the movie experience, one individual replied:

Oh, it’s stimulating—that’s for sure—but we can’t frolic around, because there are serious decisions to be made for the next life. I’ll have to accept the consequences for any mistakes in my choices . . . if I am not able to handle a life well. (Newton, 212)

Each life thus has a blueprint or overall plan, and we are ultimately evaluated on the degree to which we fulfill it. Fortunately, the hypnotized subjects remember various “coaching sessions.” Certain thoughts are impressed on their minds as clues to help them complete their next incarnations successfully. At this point the remembrance of former lives is not encouraged, for the new incarnation must be approached freely, as much as possible, as a fresh start. Far more important is the memory of the original vision, the spiritual blueprint for the coming life.

The work of the “sleeping prophet” Edgar Cayce (1877–1945) is also consistent with the story of Er, for he believed that each incarnation is consciously chosen for a particular purpose. Cayce is best known for his medical readings. Putting himself in a deep hypnotic trance, he was able to accurately diagnose and prescribe natural remedies for the illnesses of people whom he had never met. All he needed to know was the individual’s name. Less well known are Cayce’s life readings, in which he elaborated upon the individual’s inner conflicts, many of which had their origins in previous lifetimes.

In Many Mansions, a detailed study of Cayce’s life readings, Dr. Gina Cerminara clarified the difference between the original plan of the soul, or the superconscious life goal, and the consciously planned goals of the personal self.

The superconscious life goal, or spiritual intent, is the basic purpose for which the soul has taken incarnation. It is the central and unifying principle of a life, and thus it never changes. The original plan of the soul can include learning spiritual lessons, strengthening finer qualities such as wisdom and compassion, and neutralizing undesirable characteristics carried over from former lives.

The consciously formed life goals of a personality can include  pursuing a higher education, developing talents and skills, raising a family, having a successful career, and being respected in one’s community. These, of course, can change as life progresses. Cerminara wrote that if the personality can become aware of the purpose for which it took incarnation and can consciously make its life goals identical to or in harmony with these superconscious goals, then progress can be made more quickly and with less struggle.

It is therefore up to the personal self to try to remember the vision of the inner spirit. But Plato wrote that unless we are saved by wisdom we will drink too much from the river of Lethe. Being saved by wisdom involves being attuned to the intuition, the source of our most profound dreams. Intuition speaks through synchronistic events, through subtle hunches and feelings of recognition, through spontaneous symbolic images that arise sometimes in meditation and contemplative prayer, or through our daydreams in moments of stillness. As Virginia Woolf observed: “It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top” (Woolf, 31–32).

 The life of Florence Nightingale (1820–1910) is an interesting example of one in which the personal goals were brought into alignment with the spiritual vision—but not without conflict. Nightingale is best known as the “Lady with the Lamp,” the superintendent of nurses for the British army during the Crimean War (1855–56). She was a brilliant administrator and a pioneer in using statistics to implement public health reforms. Born into a life of wealth and privilege, Nightingale received a classical education from her father, making her one of the most highly educated women of her day.

As an adolescent, she experienced a sudden inner “knowing” that God had called her to a life of service. It was a brief shift of consciousness to a higher level, in which she apprehended her deep inner purpose. During this experience she was given no details; the specific mission would be her personal choice.

 Although only the soul and its advisors can know the actual spiritual plan for its incarnation, we can uncover clues in Nightingale’s writings and in various biographies. Her original vision might well have included:

  1. Using her great intelligence and administrative abilities for the betterment of humanity rather than for personal gain.
  2. Learning patience and tolerance towards individuals who did not share her progressive vision, particularly those who tried to obstruct her reform efforts.
  3. Learning to work at a task for its own sake rather than for recognition or specific results. In her copy of The Song Celestial, Edwin Arnold’s translation of the Bhagavad Gita, Nightingale marked the following passage:

              

            Abstaining from rewardment in the work,
            While yet one doeth it full faithfully,
            Saying “’Tis right to do!”—that is true act
            and abstinence! (quoted in Cook 2:242)

Since childhood, Nightingale was drawn to nursing and public health and was determined to make these interests the focus of her life. She was well aware of the difficulties. As a woman she could not hold public office to influence health policies; moreover, nursing in the public hospitals of the time was considered a disreputable occupation. But she moved forward to actualize her personal goals. These included:

  1. Improving her mind through a study of comparative religion, philosophy, and statistical science. Two of her main interests were Plato’s dialogues and the writings of the medieval mystics. Thus she was familiar with the myth of Er.
  2. Becoming a nurse; helping to establish nursing as a respected occupation; developing nursing principles.
  3. Working to improve government policies regarding public health, especially hospital design and sanitation, through her personal contacts and influence.

Nightingale’s personal goals did not include engaging in the lifestyle of a typical upper-class Victorian woman, for she felt that only through working in nursing and public health could she actualize her spiritual vision. Unfortunately, this created a serious conflict with her mother and older sister, whose plans for her were quite different: a good marriage, an elegant home, a family, relationships in high society. Although history tells us that Nightingale was true to her vision, her peace of mind was disturbed by feelings of guilt for disappointing those she loved.

In the myth of Er, Plato explained that conflict is not necessarily detrimental, because it can strengthen the soul. He described an individual who had lived in a peaceful, well-ordered state; his virtue, however, was only a matter of conformity, and he had not internalized any strong values. Left to himself, he made an impulsive choice for a new life. Er reported that those who had been “schooled by trial” and who had developed a sound philosophy were the most careful in choosing their lives. Perhaps Florence Nightingale chose to be a woman in Victorian times to strengthen her character and her inner resolve.

Dr. Victor Frankl, who developed logotherapy (meaning-centered psychotherapy), wrote that “everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life to carry out a concrete assignment which demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated” (Frankl, 113). Struggle and conflict are not unhealthy and may even be necessary for the fulfillment of one’s purpose. What is unhealthy is an existential vacuum or lack of meaning, characterized by an inner emptiness and boredom. Indeed, Nightingale might very well have suffered from this if her personal plan had deviated from her spiritual vision.

Aligning or synchronizing one’s personal plan with the spiritual vision allows one to tap into spiritual resources, such as moral strength, resilience, wisdom, and courage. Frankl, for example, felt that knowing his life’s purpose, which was to develop his method of logotherapy and write his book about it, gave him the strength to survive three years in Nazi concentration camps. Knowing her life’s purpose gave Nightingale the strength to devote her life to the public good in spite of a debilitating chronic brucellosis infection.

The reports of modern individuals who, like Er, traveled to the realms of the dead and returned, often emphasize a sense of purpose. For example, one individual told near-death expert Raymond Moody:

I say God surely was good to me, because I was dead, and he let the doctors bring me back, for a purpose. The purpose was to help my wife, I think, because she had a drinking problem, and I know that she just couldn’t have made it without me. She is better now, though, and I really think it had a lot to do with what I went through. (Moody, 73)

Kenneth Ring and Evelyn Valarino, in Lessons from the Light, write that a sense of purpose is either clarified during the near-death experience or the individuals express a deep desire to discover their mission and actualize it. Fortunately, most people do not have to go through the trauma of a near-death experience to remember the deeper purpose of their lives. According to these researchers, there is accumulating evidence, based on informal questionnaires and interviews, that studying the reports of the near-death experiencers can have a profound effect on an individual’s attitudes and behavior. The following statement came from a Swiss woman with a university degree who read Moody’s Life after Life:

I don’t want to sound pompous, but it was a revelation to me. Not Moody’s comments or analysis, but the testimonies of the experiencers. I read, cried a lot and knew it was true! I was profoundly touched at a level other than the intellectual, rational one. The experiencers’ words went straight to my heart, my soul, the essence of my being—whatever you want to call it. I immediately knew it was true . . . I had the impression that this was a truth I had always known but had simply forgotten. (Ring and Valarino, 211)

As a renewed sense of purpose is characteristic of the near-death experiencers, perhaps a study of their reports could help us remember the original visions for our own lives. This could also be true with respect to a study of the memories of Newton’s hypnotized subjects. Part of the power of these testimonies is that they come from modern individuals with whom we can identify. May we all benefit from the profound inner experiences they have so generously shared.

Sources

Cerminara, Gina. Many Mansions. New York: William Sloane, 1950.

Cook, Sir Edward. The Life of Florence Nightingale. 2 vols. London: Macmillan, 1913.

Dossey, Barbara. Florence Nightingale: Mystic, Visionary, Healer. Springhouse, Pa.: Springhouse, 2000.

Frankl, Viktor. Man’s Search for Meaning. Boston: Beacon, 1959.

Plato. The Republic. Translated by Benjamin Jowett. New York: Clydesdale, 2018 [1892].

Moody, Raymond. Life after Life. New York: HarperCollins, 2001 [1975].

Newton, Michael. Journey of Souls. Woodbury, Minn.: Llewellyn, 1994.

Ring, Kenneth, and Evelyn Valarino. Lessons from the Light. Needham, Mass.: Moment Point Press, 1998.

Woolf, Virginia. A Room of One’s Own. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1929.

Janet Macrae is a coeditor of Suggestions for Thought by Florence Nightingale (University of Pennsylvania Press) and the author of Nursing as a Spiritual Practice: A Contemporary Application of Florence Nightingale’s Views(Springer). Her article “Florence Nightingale’s Scientific Spirituality” appeared in Quest, winter 2020.


Channeling the Waters of Wisdom: Ancient Lineage and the Transmission of Knowledge

Printed in the  Fall 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Gilchrist, Cherry"Channeling the Waters of Wisdom: Ancient Lineage and the Transmission of Knowledge" Quest 108:4, pg 10-14

By Cherry Gilchrist

Theosophical Society - Cherry Gilchrist has written a number of books on spiritual and cultural traditions, drawing both from personal experience and extensive research. Recent titles include The Circle of Nine, on feminine archetypes; Tarot Triumphs, an in-depth study of traditional Tarot symbolism; and Russian Magic, on Russian mythology. A newly revised edition of Kabbalah: The Tree of Life Oracle has been launched this year, drawing on a Kabbalistic divination system which she inherited. Cherry lives in Devon, U.K. Her author’s website is at www.cherrygilchrist.co.uk, and her compendium of articlesOver the last few years, along with a small group of colleagues, I’ve been looking into the history of our esoteric lineage. Since the 1970s and ’80s, we’ve been members of what is said to be a very old line of transmission: a particular tradition of wisdom which could broadly be described as Kabbalistic. We know certain facts about how it’s been passed down within the last seventy years, and we have records and reminiscences of those who were involved in the decades before we ourselves came along, from the 1950s onwards. But tracing the trail before that is difficult.

I’ve long been interested in lineage, and while my teacher was still alive, I pestered him for information. He occasionally threw a clue or two in my direction. “Sometimes,” he told me, “the tradition is only passed on to two or three people in a generation. Then sometimes there’s a more widespread need for it.” Our time, he implied, was one when the work of the tradition needs to go out further into the world at large. He himself was taught Tree of Life Kabbalah by, of all people, a farmer in Yorkshire while he, my teacher, was still a young man serving in the British Royal Air Force. On his release from the RAF in his late twenties, he helped to set up groups in London whose recruits first gathered in the coffee bars of London’s Soho district in the late 1950s. In terms of our research, so far, so good: we have chronicled this starting point, and from the research gathered, a website is now set up to detail how the trail led from there into a branching network of groups and teachers whose output is also found in books, films and follow-on organizations. They include the Toledano School of Kabbalah, headed by Warren Kenton (Z’ev ben Shimon Halevi); the Alef Trust, which teaches courses on consciousness and transpersonal and spiritual psychology; and the Praxis Research Institute, which explores the roots of esoteric Christianity. (See the Soho Cabbalists website for more information).

But how do we take this back further? How is such a lineage passed on? What impulse gave rise to it, since it is said to date back 6,000 years? These are big questions, and there are no exact answers. My intention here is to introduce some ways of considering these links. Often the questions are more important than the answers. We can keep asking questions, and even if the answers aren’t exactly as expected, they can help to illuminate the path. The motto of the first Soho group was: “There’s always further to go.”

Here’s a question to begin with: what is wisdom itself?

Wisdom from on high,
who orders all things mightily,
to us the path of knowledge show,
and teach us in her ways to go.

This is a verse from an ancient Christian antiphon, which is sung in the season of Advent. Wisdom, it says, can show us a path of knowledge. To look at this in a slightly different way, it’s often an individual experience of wisdom which leads us into a particular spiritual path. Perhaps we unexpectedly receive some wise counsel, or experience a moment of grace, or have a significant encounter. Whatever it is points the way to something greater, as if it has come to us from the working of wisdom itself in the universe.

Wisdom can thus trigger an initiation, an entry point into a particular lineage. But it is not itself a lineage; it isn’t bounded in this way. It’s easier to use a model to explain how I perceive this, so my reference here is the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. It doesn’t matter if you are not familiar with this, as I’m just going to describe the first three principles of creation, the forces that enter the created universe and shape it in primordial terms. The Tree itself consists of ten such sefirot or “spheres,” as they are known. In these terms, the first sefirah is Keter (“Crown”), the divine presence entering and “crowning” our universe, as its name signifies. Then Wisdom, Hokhmah, comes forth from that, as the first active manifestation in this universe. It is an outpouring, which is bountiful and unceasing, but which has no defined form. This flow is then tempered, shaped, and nurtured by Binah (“Understanding”), also sometimes known as the Great Mother.

When these first three principles—divinity, wisdom, and understanding—are established in their prime configuration as a triad, then Knowledge comes into existence, at the point of Da’at. This is not a sefirah in its own right, but a kind of gateway or abyss, which lies between the supernal world above and our familiar human world below. Seeing how these three forces combine to give rise to knowledge is useful here in helping us see how a spiritual path is shaped.

To begin with, though, I would like to explore the nature of wisdom from our very imperfect human standpoint. There are different ways to define wisdom, but as it is boundless in itself, there is no final way of pinning it down. This is because each expression of wisdom is a unique, creative response to a situation. A drop of wisdom can transform a particular situation at that particular moment in time, whereas another such moment requires a different drop of that holy essence. If you think of someone who you consider to be wise, how does their wisdom express itself? Probably never the same way twice, and sometimes in a completely unexpected way, but one which seems perfect for the situation. Wisdom is not a predictable stock response, and definitely not a checklist of dos and don’ts. A wise person answers in different ways at different times. And let us not confine wisdom to “teachers.” Everyone has moments of uttering words of wisdom, sometimes not knowing exactly where they come from.

My own image of wisdom, in visual terms, is as a kind of pearly, luminescent outpouring. It can be channeled like water, but it cannot be shaped like clay. I would guess that many of us have some kind of similarly instinctive response to the word, even though our images of it may be different, because we have an innate human capacity to recognise wisdom, whether or not we choose to ignore or deny it. (And that does happen.) We may also experience a sense of “rightness” when we come across true wisdom, even if it flies in the face of conventional dictates or what we personally would wish for. Wisdom in action has a power which can move us to tears, or bring a sense of calm that stills all previous turbulence. This inborn ability to know wisdom can also help us recognize a true spiritual path, which is not always an easy task, especially if we encounter a hidden or esoteric tradition that has been rejected by established religion. But we can consult this inner barometer of wisdom to help decide whether it’s a path that can be trusted.

As I write this, I find myself floating on what seems an endless sea of possibilities. I could discuss wisdom in this way or that, explore a range of ideas, track down innumerable sources, and possibly drown in the attempt! So like Binah in those first Kabbalistic principles, I have set limits here so as to keep to the theme of transmission of lineage.

Moving on, therefore, I am going to offer three stories which have emerged within the lineage that I have worked and studied in, and which may help to explain the relationship between spiritual work and the channeling of wisdom into a tradition. Where historical fact fails us, symbols and legends may illuminate its development.

The Ruined City

This image came into my mind spontaneously some years ago:

There’s a ruined city standing on a riverbank. It’s empty: no one’s there, and all around it the land is bare, like a sandy desert. The walls are half broken, and there are no roofs on the buildings. But the river is still flowing past between its banks. The river is full, and there’s a strong current, even though the land around is empty and barren.

My teacher nodded as I described it to him later. “Yes,” he said, “that’s how our line of work goes.”

From this and later conversations, I came to understand that we can’t afford to become too attached to the forms of a tradition. The lineage has carved out a channel so that wisdom can flow through it like a river. The cities built on its banks are the carefully constructed schools of teaching, drawing on its water to fertilize these ideas. But such cities and teaching systems are inhabited only for a while; sooner or later, they decline or are destroyed by others, leaving the river to flow on. Perhaps in time, a new city may be constructed further down its bank.

Why should this be? Why do teaching systems eventually fail? One of the main reasons is that every such school of spirituality (I use the term broadly) eventually becomes a prison. It has locked its adherents into its edifice, and even if it’s more of a palace than a prison, it is a place of captivity. This often occurs when everything has been fully formulated, a point at which the metaphorical architecture of the school has been perfected. At that time it also begins to become obsolete. The best such teaching schools meet the needs of the time, but as those needs are fulfilled and the world moves on, the schools themselves no longer serve the same purpose. “This is inevitable, so every prison must contain within it the seeds of breaking out,” the same teacher told me.

Here, then, is a symbol for the way a spiritual lineage works: there is initial inspiration from wisdom itself, and the person who recognizes this wisdom may channel it so that it flows like a river. Others are drawn to the river and build their edifices on its banks. But in time new constructions will be needed.

Between the decline of one school and the flourishing of the next, however, that river still exists. Further down its course, its wisdom may be recognized by individuals who then start a new initiative to gather others together. Or it may exist in what can be called the “inner planes”—a dimension which cannot easily be traced in history or pinned down chronologically but can sometimes manifest itself directly in the soul of a seeker.

The King on the Mountain

Behind the image of the river and the ruined city, there still lies the question of what gives rise to a particular lineage. Here is a story which indicates how this impulse can come about. It’s a story known as the legend of the King on the Mountain, and it is told in the lineage to which I belong:

There was once a king who wondered what to leave his people. He wanted to leave them something worthwhile, which would endure. He went up the mountain to ponder how best to do that.

“I can construct a beautiful city, or fill a library full of books. That will give them something which endures beyond a lifetime.” But that would not do. He shook his head. “All those things will pass away.”

He reflected further, gazing at the view below of his kingdom spreading out before him. “I could teach them how to improve our agriculture, read the stars more precisely, and develop better weapons for battle. This way the knowledge of how to improve things will be passed down through the generations. Then they can have strength in adversity, and understand how to rebuild when the city crumbles.” The king sighed. “But no. Even that knowledge would become outdated. It would not last.”

Then he found what he had been searching for. “I will leave them the way to knowledge.”

That way to knowledge has come down from that day to this.

 

And so, according to this story, the king received the wisdom which enabled him to initiate a path of knowledge. To do this, however, he had to strip away all expectations of permanence and grandeur, and of guaranteed outcomes.

This story can be both fascinating and frustrating; in the early days, when I first heard it, it seemed to sweep aside all the new certainties which studying Kabbalah had given me. Learning that we are only a part of the stream of transmission can be hard. But, likewise, a story which is uncomfortable in some ways can also be the grit in the oyster shell. We all tend to hang on to our own version of the truth, which can be very hard-won by our own efforts, so to consider that even this might be transitory is a difficult call. Whether or not this legend has any historical truth to it, it can certainly teach us something about the setting up of a lineage, not just for our lifetimes, but as it can perhaps be perpetuated in different forms over the centuries.

The Eagle and the King

We may never know the full history of a lineage, especially one that is esoteric or has been largely concealed. Such traditions may have been forced underground because of persecution from political or religious systems of the day. From another perspective, some were considered to be appropriate only for true seekers who made the effort to discover them. Trying to pin down the evidence conclusively can therefore be a hopeless aim. But looking into its history can still be fruitful, following up allusions and associations which shed light on its possible transmission.

Pursuing this interest, I followed up on a few leads. I mentioned at the beginning that my teacher would sometimes drop us a few clues about its history; although he himself never claimed to be in full possession of the facts, he had learnt certain things from his own teacher, and discovered others both from his studies and his explorations of the inner worlds. All the clues that I did follow, however unlikely they might seem to start with, turned out to have some foundation. One was a suggestion that our lineage arose about 6,000 years ago in the mountains of Central Asia, at a place not far from what is now Shymkent in Kazakhstan. This in itself is an intriguing proposition, which I have looked into a little in historical terms, but it is beyond the scope of what I can write about in any significant detail in this article. (I hasten to say that this is not one of those stories of hidden Masters in mountain caves who might still be discovered today. It is a historical suggestion, which ties in with the arising of a new phase of ancient civilization, and of the spreading out of peoples over the next few millennia.)

In fact, trade routes running between East and West have played a major part in the transmission of religion, art and culture in general. Such routes developed at least 10,000 years ago. The best-known is the Silk Road, which dates primarily from the first century BC. Actually, the name Silk Road is something of a misnomer, as it was a network of trade routes stretching from East to West, and including branches which ran into India and towards present-day Russia. On all of these routes, travelers and merchants would have swapped stories, passed on ideas, and explained the meaning of their religion.

This potential origin sets the scene for another hint I was given: this lineage may also be connected with the early myths of an eagle-king. Sumerian and Babylonian myths include several involving an eagle who carries a king up into the heavens. The most prominent of these is the tale of King Etana, who heals and befriends a wounded eagle, and then ascends to the heavens on the eagle’s back. The myth also contains the notion of a sacred Tree as a poplar tree in which the eagle builds its nest. It dates from around 2300 BC, and offers a close correspondence with the Kabbalistic ascent of the Tree of Life, which can lead to reunion with the divine world. This strengthens the possible link between myths of the eagle-king and early Kabbalah; there is good evidence that the Kabbalistic Tree of Life did not originate in Judaism, but probably migrated to it from earlier sources in Babylonian culture. (See Parpola. There are also many extant Assyrian and Babylonian carvings and engravings of a stylized Tree of Life glyph, which in some cases looks remarkably like the Extended Tree used today by contemporary Kabbalists.)

The connection between Kabbalah and an eagle-king, or king-eagle, is borne out in at least two other notable stories from later periods. “The Hymn of Robe of Glory” (also known as “The Hymn of the Pearl”) is a Gnostic text from the first or second century CE, which is found in the apocryphal Acts of Thomas. It is a story of exactly this kind, of a return to a heavenly home. The hero is a young man who has been sent to earth to gather a pearl of great price by his royal parents, but he has forgotten that he is a king’s son, that he has a mission to fulfil, and that there is a robe of glory waiting for him back in his true home. As he is now “asleep” in this world, he must be awoken to his real nature. His parents, the king and queen, send an eagle to deliver the message:

It flew in the likeness of an eagle,
The king of all birds;
It flew and alighted beside me,
And became all speech.
At its voice and the sound of its rustling,
I started and arose from my sleep.
I took it up and kissed it,
And loosed its seal (?), (and) read;
And according to what was traced on my heart
Were the words of my letter written.
I remembered that I was a son of kings,
And my free soul longed for its natural state. (Mead, 410; parenthetical comments Mead’s)

I have always found this text moving and very pertinent to the Kabbalistic tradition, with its sense of awakening, recognition, and homecoming.

A later myth known from the medieval period ties the eagle, the king, and the Kabbalah even more closely together. This is recorded in the compilation of Judaic Kabbalistic texts known as The Zohar, and reveals a tradition in which King Solomon—who is of course strongly associated with wisdom—rides on an eagle to ascend to the higher worlds:

[Solomon] ascended unto the roof of his palace, seated himself upon the eagle’s back, and so departed, attended both by fire and cloud. The eagle ascended into the heavens, and wherever he passed the earth below was darkened. The wiser sort in that part of the earth from whence the light was thus suddenly removed would know the cause and would say, “Assuredly that was King Solomon passing by!” (Zohar, 3:334–36)

This was a favorite occupation of Solomon’s, and his goal when he reached the heavens was to discover further secrets: “Solomon, by means of a ring on which God’s name was engraved, would compel the two angels to reveal every mystery he desired to know.” (See Hirsh et al.)

Investigating the legends of lineage brings about not only a sense of connection with the path as it has been traveled over the millennia, but also fresh inspiration for our own journey. It’s well-known that Renaissance art and Baroque music, for instance, were very much inspired by a return to the recently rediscovered Greek philosophical texts. Sometimes digging deeper into the past releases a fresh flow of the water of wisdom.

The act of connecting to lineage may also trigger synchronicities, where inner and outer worlds, past and present, seem to overlap and messages or confirmations are received. A small example of this happened as I was writing this section. I went out for my daily walk, which runs along the tidal river estuary out of our town and around the marshlands at its juncture with another, smaller river. On the pathway, I spotted a barred brown and buff feather, which looks like an eagle’s feather. It isn’t that as such, because we don’t have eagles here in southwestern England. It’s probably from a buzzard, which as a large bird of prey is the closest thing to an eagle in these parts. But I see it as a mysterious and fitting response from the life of the wisdom tradition which I’m exploring. I have brought it back home with me, and it lies on my desk as I write this.


Sources

Hirsh, Emil, et al. “Solomon.” The Jewish Encyclopedia (website), 1906: https://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/13842-solomon.

Mark, Joshua J. “The Myth of Etana,” Ancient History Encyclopedia (website), March 2, 2011: https://www.ancient.eu/article/224/the-myth-of-etana/.

Mead, G.R.S. Fragments of a Faith Forgotten: A Contribution to the Study of the Origins of Christianity. New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1960 [1900].

Parpola, Simon. “The Assyrian Tree of Life: Tracing the Origins of Jewish Monotheism and Greek Philosophy.” In Journal of Near Eastern Studies 52, no. 3 (July 1993): 161–208.

The Soho Cabbalists (website): https://www.soho-tree.com.

The Zohar. Translated by Harry Sperling and Maurice Simon. 5 vols. New York: Soncino Press, 1933.

Cherry Gilchrist
Cherry Gilchrist has written a number of books on spiritual and cultural traditions, drawing both from personal experience and extensive research. Recent titles include The Circle of Nine, on feminine archetypes; Tarot Triumphs, an in-depth study of traditional Tarot symbolism; and Russian Magic, on Russian mythology. A newly revised edition of Kabbalah: The Tree of Life Oracle has been launched this year, drawing on a Kabbalistic divination system which she inherited. Cherry lives in Devon, U.K. Her author’s website is at www.cherrygilchrist.co.uk, and her compendium of articles and blogs at www.cherrycache.org.


From the Editor’s Desk

Printed in the  Summer 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Smoley, Richard"From the Editor’s Desk" Quest 108:3, pg 2

by Richard Smoley

Theosophical Society - Richard Smoley is editor of Quest Magazine, author of several books, and has given many talks on Theosophical concepts and Principles. At New Year’s, I told my wife, “Next New Year’s, we will no longer recognize the world.”

So it has proved, as I write this less than three months later. The world has been convulsed by a virus that came seemingly out of nowhere.

My remark hardly makes me a prophet. As a matter of fact, I don’t believe in prophecies, since very few of them came true, even those in the Bible. (For my views on this subject, see the chapter “Nostradamus and the Uses of Prophecy” in my book The Essential Nostradamus.)

Where, then, did I get this idea? From astrology. On January 12, there was an exact conjunction of Pluto and Saturn in Capricorn, which pointed to some convulsive event that would occur around that time. Nineteen years ago, a similar though less intense aspect—an opposition between Pluto in Sagittarius and Saturn in Gemini—presaged the 9/11 debacle.

I was by no means the only one to have seen something like this from the positions of the planets; it was a common topic of discussion among astrologers (and I am very far from the most proficient person I know in this subject). They did not predict either disaster specifically, but in both cases they knew that something was coming.

In the case of 9/11, the astrological picture was especially striking. Pluto, the wrecking ball of the planets (and the planet of fanaticism), was in Sagittarius, the sign governing religion. Saturn, the planet of established structure, was in Gemini. Hence destruction wrought by religious fanatics upon the structure of the World Trade Center. Because Gemini is the sign of the twins, it was uncannily fitting that the destruction should have been visited upon the Twin Towers.

As for the January 2020 conjunction, which took place just as the coronavirus crisis was beginning to emerge worldwide, here is a quote from the website astrotwins.com: “The ‘rip it down to the studs’ renovations that a Saturn-Pluto conjunction demands is rarely gentle. Pluto, the galactic Grim Reaper, has no problem destroying anything that comes into its path. The dwarf planet demands total transformation, and that means getting rid of whatever is keeping us stuck in an old groove” (https://astrostyle.com/the-saturn-pluto-conjunction-busts-the-status-quo).

This prediction, made last year, has proved true. Nothing specifically was foreseen, but as we learn from the tale of the appointment in Samarra, specific foreknowledge would very likely have done no good: often you hasten most furiously toward your destination when you are fleeing from it. This event is simply something the world has to go through. Each of us will learn our own lessons from it as we need to.

Although much of this year will consist of processing the shock of this conjunction, the story isn’t over (it never is). The year will end with an equally momentous astrological event: the great conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn on December 21. This event takes place every twenty years, and introduces huge transformations of its own. (A great conjunction in 7–6 BC, involving Mars as well, is sometimes correlated with the birth of Christ.) The last great conjunction, which took place in May 2000, coincided with the burst of the dot-com bubble, followed by serious dislocations in the politics of the United States.

The 2000 conjunction took place in Taurus, an earth sign, which dashed many foolish expectations. The one to occur in December is different: it will be in Aquarius, an air sign.

This fact is even more momentous. The great conjunctions occur in signs of the same element for roughly two hundred years. With one exception (in early 1981), ever since the conjunction of 1802, they have taken place in earth signs.

 From now on, great conjunctions will take place in air signs for a couple of centuries. The one to come in December will be coupled with a square (a harsh aspect) to Uranus, the planet of upheaval. This event will mark a convulsive turning of the age.

For better or worse? We don’t know. It is risky to say more. I myself suspect that this shift of the great conjunctions from earth to air signs will correspond to a definitive break with the materialism that has dominated Western thought for the past 200 years. We have long since seen hints that this will occur, but even up to this moment, materialism maintains its hold.

How, then, are we supposed to behave in this transitional moment? In the most important sense, nothing has changed. If you are committed to esoteric work (however you understand that), your standing orders remain: you have to be a stabilizing force in the world. You have to keep your center even though everyone else is losing theirs. The present crisis does not change the task, although it may make it more difficult.

Hard times or good times, the message is always the same: we have to do our inner work.

Richard Smoley

           


A Multidimensional Explanation for Magnetism

Printed in the  Summer 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Brooks, Mark Hunter"A Multidimensional Explanation for Magnetism" Quest 108:3, pg 34-38

By Mark Hunter Brooks

Theosophical Society - Mark Hunter Brooks, author of the book Christianity from a Spiritual Perspective, has had numerous spiritual experiences since 2003 that have profoundly changed his worldview. He writes and speaks about the mechanics of the nonphysical world to demystify what has traditionally been a taboo topic.Don’t let the title of the book Occult Chemistry scare you. The Theosophical Publishing House first released this important work over 100 years ago, and its concepts have never left the world’s psyche. By its third edition, published in 1951, it had grown to over 400 pages with over 200 charts and detailed drawings that described the physical structure of all the atomic elements known at that time.

How did the authors, Theosophical Society leaders Annie Besant and Charles Leadbeater, do this? They practiced a yogic technique that enabled them to visually observe objects on the subatomic scale (Besant, 1. This ability is also mentioned by Theosophical author A.E. Powell, who wrote that this ability could be used to either magnify very small objects or to shrink the immensely large: Powell, 110–11). In contrast, scientists today use particle accelerators, like CERN’s Large Hadron Collider (See “Definitions”), to smash atoms into each other at a speed close to that of light so they can observe the debris from the collision.

Two significant claims have been made over the years about Occult Chemistry:

  1. The book contains a “number-weight” for each element that very closely matches that element’s atomic weight (Besant et al., 346–48).
  2. The book’s drawing of the hydrogen atom clearly shows the presence of quarks within the atom’s proton and neutron (figure 1). Quarks were not discovered by science until 1964.

 

Theosophical Society - The drawing of the hydrogen atom in Occult Chemistry. Arrows and terms are my additions.

Figure 1. The drawing of the hydrogen atom in Occult Chemistry. Arrows and terms are my additions.

 A third claim the book makes concerns the existence of anu (the term is the same in both the singular and plural). These entities are smaller than quarks, which are the smallest subatomic particle that science currently recognizes. The book’s drawing of the hydrogen atom (figure 1) shows three anu inside each of the three quarks that make up the hydrogen atom’s proton and neutron. The book states that anu come in two mirror-image types: male and female (figure 2). Male anu move energy from the astral to the etheric dimension, which is the dimension next to our physical dimension, and female anu move energy in the opposite direction. (Besant et al., Occult Chemistry, 13–14. Leadbeater separately describes the mirror-image reversal of numbers in his description of the astral plane: Leadbeater, 7–8).


This article adds yet another claim to the list, that the book’s drawing of the iron atom can be used to explain how magnetism works. Scientists have written about the properties of magnets, but they have yet to explain how or why the magnetic force originates in nature. This article asserts that it is the anu’s movement of energy between the etheric and astral dimensions that creates the magnetic force. Support for this claim comes from the observation in Occult Chemistry that anu simultaneously spin and exhibit a pumping action (Besant et al., 14). The name for this type of movement, which was unknown at the time, is a Clifford displacement. It occurs when an object in the fourth dimension simultaneously spins in two orthogonal, or opposing ninety-degree, planes (figure 3. See the YouTube video Visualizing 4D Geometry: A Journey into the Fourth Dimension [Part 2], starting at 12:58 into the video, for a representation of the movement. Sourced from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4URVJ3D8e8k&t).

 

 

Theosophical Society - Figure 2. Images of male and female anu.

Figure 2. Images of male and female anu.


Using this definition, I propose that male and female anu are actually the same entity, but that they are distinguished by the dimension in which the anu’s head is situated. If the head of the anu lies in the astral dimension, it is a male anu, which moves energy from the astral into the etheric dimension. Conversely, if the head of the anu lies in the etheric dimension, it is a female anu, which moves energy from the etheric into the astral dimension. The astral dimension is fourth-dimensional, which aligns with the assertion that the anu’s motion is a Clifford displacement.

 Theosophical Society - Figure 3. An illustration showing how an anu's simultaneous spinning and pumping action can be characterized as a Clifford displacement, giving rise to an explanation of the difference between male and female anu.

Figure 3. An illustration showing how an anu's simultaneous spinning and pumping action can be characterized as a Clifford displacement, giving rise to an explanation of the difference between male and female anu.

The physical structure of the iron atom is unique. According to Occult Chemistry diagrams, it resembles a multiarmed jack from the children’s game Ball and Jacks (figure 4). At the tip of each arm is a point-shaped funnel that is covered with anu (figure 5). It is the only atomic element in Occult Chemistry drawn with a funnel at the tip of multiple arms. In nonmagnetic iron samples, the distribution of male and female anu would be balanced throughout the piece. When an iron sample is magnetized, however, this article proposes that the top and bottom halves of each iron atom become polarized, meaning that half of the iron atom consists of only male anu, while the opposite half is composed of only female anu.

Theosophical Society - An Illustration of an Iron Atom

Figure 4: An illustration of an iron (Fe) atom.

Within the body of an iron magnet, the male anu in the arms of one polarized iron atom bond to the female anu in the arms of other polarized iron atoms, creating an interlocking latticelike structure that connects them. Anu on the outer surface of the iron magnet, though, do not have oppositely polarized anu with which to bind. As a result, they bind with the polarized anu on the opposite end of the magnet, creating what scientists call magnetic field lines (figure 6). Occult Chemistry also mentions that an electric current causes anu to arrange themselves in parallel lines (figure 7), which could produce a magnetic effect in electrified wire that is similar to that of polarized anu in magnetic iron (Besant et al., 15). One has to speculate, though, regarding how groups of anu would need to be arranged to produce this effect.

Testing the Article’s Explanation

   The scientific method is the process scientists use to determine whether an explanation for a phenomenon occurring in nature is actually true. They work to prove that an explanation is true by repeatedly trying to prove that it’s false! Only after failing to prove that an explanation is false will scientists begin to believe that it is true. As a result, most scientists will not consider new explanations for how something works unless that explanation also includes a way to test how it can be proven false, hence the reason for this section.

 Theosophical Society - Figure 5. The placement of anu within each arm of an Iron (FE) atom. Each dot represents an anu.    Theosophical Society -  Figure 6. Magnetic field lines.

Figure 5. The placement of anu within each arm of
an Iron (FE) atom. Each dot represents an anu.

   Figure 6. Magnetic field lines.

Comparing the Decomposition of Elements

Theosophical Society - Figure 8: An illustration showing how a hydrogen atom decomposes into individual anu.

Figure 8: An illustration showing how a hydrogen
atom decomposes into individual anu.

The claim in this article relies on the accuracy of the information presented in Occult Chemistry, so one way to prove that the claim is false is to show that the information presented in the book is not true. Throughout the book, the authors created charts that show how each element decomposes into individual anu. Figure 8 shows the four substates, labeled E1–E4, through which hydrogen passes in its decomposition process. Substate E4 shows that the hydrogen atom first separates into a proton and a neutron, each of which contains three quarks. Within each quark are three heart-shaped anu, the positive and negative sign denoting whether they are male or female, respectively. Substates E3 and E2 show how the proton and neutron decompose, arriving at the final substate E1, which consists of only individual anu.

In the process of creating the book, the authors Besant and Leadbeater used their abilities to document how each element decomposes through its various substates. Without knowing how this occurs, we can only make a reasoned guess that elements decompose the same way, regardless of whether it was done using a mystical technique or a particle accelerator.

Therefore one way to test whether this claim is false would be to compare the decomposition of elements described in Occult Chemistry with the decomposition of the same elements as a result of collisions in CERN’s Large Hadron Collider (LHC). The number-weight procedure described in the book can be used to estimate the atomic weight of each element’s substate, based on the number of anu present in each drawing. These weights can then be compared with the atomic weights of the particles ejected from Large Hadron Collider collisions to see if there are any correlations. If no correlations exist, then the information presented in Occult Chemistry, and this claim, could be false. However, if correlations are found, it implies the need for further study.

Comparing the Crystalline Structure of Diamonds

Theosophical Society - The Structure of a Diamond

Figure 9: The structure of a diamond.

 

 Another test of the accuracy of Occult Chemistry would be to compare its analysis of a diamond’s crystalline structure, which was first published in 1925, with similar modern-day analyses. The book’s authors described the diamond’s structure in great detail, including the illustration shown in figure 9 (Besant, 337–38). This drawing depicts twenty-five groups of diamond crystals, shown in red and white, with each group interlinked in a Maltese cross–like pattern. Two layers of these crystals are then joined together by sixteen carbon atoms, shown in blue. A drawing from the book of a unit of diamond is shown in figure 10 (Besant et al., 337–38). If the book’s analysis aligns with modern scientific analyses, it could indicate that more study of the book’s contents, and the claim, might be warranted. Similarly, an inaccurate depiction of the diamond’s structure might make one also question the book’s description of the structure of an iron atom.

Theosophical Society - A Unit of Diamond

 Figure 10: A unit of diamond.

Conclusion

The contents described in Occult Chemistry continue to offer relevant insights a century after its initial release. The claim outlined in this article, if validated, could add legitimacy to other claims made in this work, which could be of tremendous benefit to the scientific community.


Definitions

Astral. A name for a nonphysical dimension. In Theosophical literature, the astral dimension is located above the etheric dimension and below the mental dimension.

CERN. A French acronym for the European Center for Nuclear Research, which is an international collaboration of organizations that operate the Large Hadron Collider particle accelerator.

Etheric. A name for a nonphysical dimension. In Theosophical literature, the etheric dimension is located above the physical dimension and below the astral dimension.

Large Hadron Collider (LHC). The world’s most powerful particle accelerator. Its magnetic ring, 27 kilometers in diameter, is located 100 meters underground in a tunnel that spans the Franco-Swiss border near Geneva, Switzerland.

Sources

Besant, Annie, C.W. Leadbeater, Elizabeth Preston, and C. Jinarajadasa. Occult Chemistry: Investigations by Clairvoyant Magnification into the Structure of the Atoms of the Periodic Table and Some Compounds. 3d ed. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1951.

Brooks, Mark H. Christianity from a Spiritual Perspective. Charlotte N.C.: From a Different Perspective, 2019.

Leadbeater, C.W. The Astral Plane. 2d Adyar ed. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 2010  (first published in 1895).

Powell, A. E. The Etheric Double: The Health Aura. First U.S. ed. Wheaton: Theosophical Publishing House, 1925.

Mark Hunter Brooks, author of the book Christianity from a Spiritual Perspective, has had numerous spiritual experiences since 2003 that have profoundly changed his worldview. He writes and speaks about the mechanics of the nonphysical world to demystify what has traditionally been a taboo topic.

With the exception of Figure 3 and Figure 5, all illustrations were taken from Besant et al., Occult Chemistry. Figure 3 was taken from Christianity from a Spiritual Perspective, Version 3.0, 168. Figure 5 was sourced from the Internet at the link http://www.sciencekids.co.nz/pictures/physics/ironfilings.html on November 21, 2019. 

Brooks, Mark H. Christianity from a Spiritual Perspective. Charlotte N.C.: From a Different Perspective, 2019.

Leadbeater, C.W. The Astral Plane. 2d Adyar ed. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 2010  (first published in 1895).

Powell, A. E. The Etheric Double: The Health Aura. First U.S. ed. Wheaton: Theosophical Publishing House, 1925. 


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