The Task of Becoming Sixth-Race Man

Originally printed in theFall 2011 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Ginsburg, Seymour B. "The Task of Becoming Sixth-Race Man." Quest 99.4 (FALL 2011):139-143

by Seymour B. Ginsburg

Theosophical Society - Seymour B. Ginsburg was the first president of the Toys "R" Us chain. Cofounder of the Gurdjieff Institute of Florida, he is the former president of the Theosophical Society in south Florida and is the author of Gurdjieff Unveiled and The Masters Speak: An American Businessman Encounters Ashish and Gurdjieff Theosophy speaks of the doctrine of the races (or root races). These are not the races known to modern ethnography; rather they are whole epochs of history in which the whole of humanity partakes. According to H. P. Blavatsky's magnum opus The Secret Doctrine, we are presently in the fourth round of our planetary chain, and we are in the fifth race of that round. It is our task, and the task of coming generations, to build the sixth, coming race. About this enterprise, Sri Madhava Ashish (born Alexander Phipps, 1920-97), a Scottish engineer turned Hindu monk, wrote: 

The task of becoming sixth-race man, oriented towards the Spirit, is by no means easy. The leap we have to take to the sixth cannot be made without intentional effort. Unlike our arrival at manhood, we are subject to no inescapable compulsion to grow. Against our will we can neither be thrust upwards from below nor pulled upwards from above. Having achieved an instrument of its own will [man], it is through that instrument that the divine Will achieves its purpose. It is as if the divine Will cannot compel itself by itself, and we, who are essentially moments in or of that Will, must give ourselves to the fulfillment of its purpose if that purpose is at all to be fulfilled. (Ashish, Man, 284)

These words give the central theme of Ashish's 1970 book, Man, Son of Man. It was this book that led me to India in 1978 to meet him. Previously, in the spring of that year, my personal quest for meaning had led me to H. P. Blavatsky's writings, and I joined the Theosophical Society. I eagerly attacked The Secret Doctrine, hoping that an understanding of her thought would provide a key to life's meaning. But I could not understand her 1400-page commentary on the mystical poem that she called the Stanzas of Dzyan. At the same time I sensed something important in what she was attempting to say. In the effort to understand, I was led to two additional books of commentary on these stanzas, the first being Man, The Measure of All Things (1966), coauthored by Ashish and his teacher, Sri Krishna Prem (Ronald Nixon, 1898—1965), an Englishman who had come to India in 1921 and who had also become a Hindu monk. This book describes the nature of the cosmos as described by the Stanzas of Dzyan. The second book, Man, Son of Man, written by Ashish alone, describes what man is and the intentional effort required of him.

What Makes a Master?

From the time of our initial meeting in 1978, I knew that there was something special about Ashish, but exactly what that was, I could not put my finger on. I soon learned that he was among the shrewdest of men, capable of penetrating into the truth of a person's character in a very short time. In this first meeting he advised me that when I returned home to America, I should begin to study the teachings of the Greco-Armenian mystic G. I. Gurdjieff (1866?-1949). In a letter some ten years later, Ashish would point out that Gurdjieff's teaching was a continuation of the impulse that had given rise to Theosophy: "The particular characteristic of the TS is its direct inspiration by the Masters or Bodhisattvas. They fielded HPB and stood behind her all her life. G [Gurdjieff] was one of them, which is why his teaching is in the same tradition" (Ginsburg, Masters, 129). Ashish also told me to begin to pay attention to my dreams.

I decided to return to India to see Ashish the following spring, 1979, writing him to request this. Thus began our extensive correspondence, in which I asked him all manner of questions concerning Theosophy, including how to approach the study of dreams as well as the subject of the Masters, the men whom HPB called her teachers and who presumably had transmitted the Stanzas of Dzyan to her psychically. Many of Ashish's responses in his letters to me on this and other subjects were published in my book The Masters Speak: An American Businessman Encounters Ashish and Gurdjieff.

Sensing my confusion about the subject of Masters, Ashish suggested that if I were to return to India to see him, I should first visit another man, Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, who lived in Mumbai (Bombay) and taught Advaita Vedanta, in order to help me understand just what makes a Master. One reason Ashish sent me to meet him was that Nisargadatta was a living example of what we should and can become here and now. Unlike Ashish and Sri Krishna Prem, both of whom lived ascetic lives in the remote Himalayas, Nisargadatta was an ordinary middle-class Indian shopkeeper with a wife and four children, living in the midst of the craziness that is Mumbai. In that sense his attainment is something to which any of us can aspire.

My 1979 visit to meet Nisargadatta and to see Ashish again would become the second in an annual pilgrimage that continued for nineteen years until Ashish's passing in 1997. I wanted to know what makes a Master in the context of Theosophical teaching.

Of particular interest is Ashish's remark in a 1989 letter: "The Master is one with the Spirit. He exemplifies the final attainment. He is what is as yet only a partially realized potential in your own being. You can 'recognize' him only to the extent that you can feel the responses in your essence when like answers to like. G [Gurdjieff] is a Master" (Ginsburg, Masters, 138). In another letter Ashish had this to say about Masters: "It may be a fact that some of the Masters derive their being from other worlds than this one. But too much attention given to this speculation can lead to the false view that they are so special as to have no relevance to the lives of ordinary mortals like us. In fact, so many of them have arisen from the ordinary mortals of this planet, and from so many different races and cultures on this planet, that they provide us with examples of what we should and can become here and now" (Ginsburg, Masters, 137). Gurdjieff says something similar: "Each one of us must set for his chief aim to become in the process of our collective life a master" (Gurdjieff, 1236).

Gurdjieff described this circle of Masters to P. D. Ouspensky, calling them the conscious circle of humanity. He said to Ouspensky, "The inner circle is called the 'esoteric'; this circle consists of people who have attained the highest development possible for man, each one of whom possesses individuality in the fullest degree, that is to say, an indivisible 'I,' all forms of consciousness possible for man, full control over these states of consciousness, the whole of knowledge possible for man, and a free and independent will." Gurdjieff went on to explain that this esoteric circle is surrounded by a "mesoteric" circle, which is in turn surrounded by an "exoteric" circle. These three levels represent different degrees of understanding but are all part of the conscious circle of humanity, as distinguished from an outer circle of "mechanical" humanity to which the vast majority of people belong (Ouspensky, 310-12).

Much arrant nonsense has been published about Masters, attributing to them all sorts of supposedly miraculous powers in order to tantalize a gullible public. These powers are not at all relevant to the teaching brought to us by these Masters, and whether any of them had such powers is highly problematic. But it is verifiable that certain seemingly unusual capacities can be developed in human beings. HPB's adept Masters were a succession of incarnated human beings rather than a cosmic hierarchy of supermen. The actual "miraculous" power that they did have in common was the ability to communicate with HPB and others at a distance, a power sometimes known as telepathy, of which there are many verified accounts in human experience. Ouspensky, for example, wrote in amazement of Gurdjieff's telepathic powers, telling of a time when he began to hear Gurdjieff's unspoken thoughts (Ouspensky, 262—64).

What we call telepathy is a natural function of our connectedness with each other at levels of the psyche that are more interior than the lower mind, with its endlessly turning thoughts. The Masters, being at one with the Spirit but having followed the bodhisattva path of compassion toward their less evolved brethren, continue to guide humanity with telepathically transmitted wisdom both while they are incarnate and after they have left the physical body. We usually experience this received wisdom as our own insight. Such insight often comes during silent meditation and through dreams. This is why Ashish placed such importance on sitting quietly in meditation for long periods of time and on paying attention to dreams and the symbolic language in which they speak.

I first wrote of the connection between Gurdjieff and HPB's teachers for an article, "HPB, Gurdjieff and The Secret Doctrine," that appeared in The American Theosophist in the spring of 1988. In that article I mentioned HPB's prediction in The Secret Doctrine: "In Century the Twentieth some disciple more informed and far better fitted [than HPB] may be sent by the Masters of Wisdom to give final and irrefutable proofs that there exists a Science called Gupta-Vidy? [esoteric knowledge]; and that, like the once-mysterious sources of the Nile, the source of all religions and philosophies now known to the world has been for many ages forgotten and lost to men, but is at last found" (Secret Doctrine, 1:xxxviii). She went on to write about the two published volumes of The Secret Doctrine: "These two volumes should form for the student a fitting prelude for Volumes III and IV. Until the rubbish of the ages is cleared away from the minds of the Theosophists to whom these volumes are dedicated, it is impossible that the more practical teaching contained in the Third Volume should be understood" (Secret Doctrine, 2:797—98).

Blavatsky did not complete her projected third and fourth volumes, but Gurdjieff brought the practical teaching in oral form, and he gave it out piecemeal to Ouspensky and others in his early Russian groups beginning about 1912. Eventually Ouspensky outlined the teaching and wrote it down as he understood it. This written account, published as In Search of the Miraculous, constitutes the most widely known and authoritative exposition of Gurdjieff's oral teaching.

Gurdjieff's connections with Theosophy ran wide and deep, despite his critical comments about the fantasizings of naïve early Theosophists. Two of his closest students, Ouspensky and A. R. Orage, both of literary prominence in the first half of the twentieth century, were well-known speakers for the Theosophical movement. Two lesser known figures in the Theosophical movement of the 1920s, Maud Hoffman and A. Trevor Barker, became pupils of Gurdjieff in 1922. They went with him to Fontainebleau in France to help prepare his occult school, known as the Prieura, to receive students. Maud Hoffman, an American Shakespearean actress residing in England with her close friend, the Theosophist Mabel Collins, became executrix of the estate of A. P. Sinnett and inherited a series of letters written by HPB's Masters to British correspondents in India in the late nineteenth century; most of these were addressed to Sinnett. Hoffman appointed A. Trevor Barker to edit the letters for publication. While studying at the Prieura, these two pupils of Gurdjieff were working on the transcription, editing, compilation, and publication of what became known as the Mahatma Letters.

After a severe automobile accident in 1924, which made it necessary to close his school, Gurdjieff dedicated himself to writing. He wrote the intentionally mythological Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson, which includes "a brief history of all the great adepts known to the ancients and the moderns in their chronological order," as HPB predicted in The Secret Doctrine (2:437), along with other clues linking the two books.

"A Certain Very Great Purpose"

At the end of Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson, Gurdjieff tells us: "There is in our life a certain very great purpose and we must all serve this Great Common Purpose'in this lies the whole sense and predestination of our life." Gurdjieff goes on to tell us that although everyone is equally a slave to this great purpose, the man or woman who has developed his own "I" is conscious, and "acquires the possibility, simultaneously with serving the all-universal Actualizing, of applying part of his manifestations according to the providence of Great Nature for the purpose of acquiring for himself 'Imperishable Being.'" (Gurdjieff, 1226—27).

Although Ashish told me to study Gurdjieff's teaching and he himself was a great fan of the mythological Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson, in another letter he made the following comment about what he called the Man books (Man, The Measure of All Things and Man, Son of Man): "G's system is tantalizing, but mythological in form. G did not intend to provide a rational framework. As he says at the beginning of the book, he aims to destroy preconceived notions. Frankly, you will get a clearer approximation of the facts from the Man books. I think you will find G's ideas making more sense against the framework those books sketch" (Ginsburg, Masters, 227—28).

Ashish wrote this to me in 1993, but it would take another fifteen years before I picked up on his hint and began to reexamine these books, and especially Man, Son of Man.

Ashish authored another book explaining the spiritual significance of dreams. He showed it to me in manuscript form in 1979, but continued to work on it almost until his passing in 1997. In his preface to that book, An Open Window: Dream as Everyman's Guide to the Spirit, he makes an extraordinary disclosure about the source of the wisdom contained in the Man books. This was published posthumously in 2007:

We [Prem and Ashish] went through a high period [in the 1950s] when a night without a dream was a wasted opportunity, a forgotten dream was a breach of trust. We hurried through our many chores to be free to pace up and down in the morning light, seeking meanings and their ramifications.

Then as the mind began to come under control, little visions began to appear in meditation whose content was more direct, less concealed by symbols, than in ordinary dream.

There was direct, personal instruction. And there were dreams which threw light on the Cosmogenesis and Anthropogenesis of the Stanzas of Dzyan on which we were writing a commentary. Yet there was never direct dictation. One always had to struggle to understand what the symbols were saying, so that one was personally responsible for the form in which the general scheme was presented. (Ashish, Dreams, xviii)

Ashish further disclosed the source of the wisdom in the Man books in a 1988 letter: "We [Prem and Ashish] wrote that the commentary has to stand on its own. Saying that inspiration and instruction was given by D. K. [Djwhal Kool] and others would add nothing to the validity of the work. We know to whom we owe it, but we are not going to make him answer for our misunderstandings and mistakes" (Ginsburg, Masters, 129).

Ashish's disclosure of how the wisdom in Man, Son of Man was received through visions in meditation and attention to dreams echoes HPB's description of how she received the knowledge that enabled her to write The Secret Doctrine:

Knowledge comes in visions, first in dreams and then in pictures presented to the inner eye during meditation. Thus have I been taught the whole system of evolution, the laws of being and all else that I know'the mysteries of life and death, the workings of karma. Not a word was spoken to me of all this in the ordinary way, except, perhaps, by way of confirmation of what was thus given me'nothing taught me in writing. And knowledge so obtained is so clear, so convincing, so indelible in the impression it makes upon the mind, that all other sources of information, all other methods of teaching with which we are familiar dwindle into insignificance in comparison with this. One of the reasons why I hesitate to answer offhand some questions put to me is the difficulty of expressing in sufficiently accurate language things given to me in pictures, and comprehended by me by the pure Reason, as Kant would call it. Theirs is a synthetic method of teaching: the most general outlines are given first, then an insight into the method of working, next the broad principles and notions are brought into view, and lastly begins the revelation of the minuter points. (Blavatsky, Collected Writings, 13:285)

How are we to understand the nature of the wisdom that communicates with us through the psychic insights of people like HPB, Prem, and Ashish? In another letter, Ashish explained it this way:

Any one of those beings (if it has any meaning to speak of these being more than one essential being) can look out through the eyes of any existing form that has eyes. There is a series of masks, shaped in the familiar forms of Gurdjieff, Jesus, the Buddha, Maurya, etc., so that idiots like us can recognize them, through which the one power can communicate with us. Yet there is a sense in which "The Great Russian Bodhisattva" whom we last knew as Gurdjieff, at a certain level, is distinguishable from other bodhisattvas. (Ginsburg, Masters, 138)

Among the most important statements in Man, Son of Man are the following, which answers the question, what is this "very great common purpose" of which Gurdjieff wrote and in which lies the whole sense of our lives?

The primary creative impulse arising in absolute, undifferentiated Being can be described as a desire within Being to know itself, a desire which begins by producing a distinction between the subjective Knower and the desired object of knowledge, both separated and linked by the desirous act of knowing, and which ends by a multitude of knowing units being clothed in the objective garments of apparent form. There is, in other words, a purposeful striving within the unmanifest source of all things to make its inherent qualities apparent to itself'a necessary effort, because the diffused consciousness of Absolute Being cannot become aware of its own qualities until both a separation has been made between Knower and Known, and its qualities have been objectively represented. . . . The urge to travel the path of spiritual endeavour springs from the Cosmic Being's urge towards its own fulfillment, an urge that is implanted in our hearts as it is implanted in the hearts of all creatures of the divine will. The inner goal towards which we are urged to turn is the goal of the cosmic cycle, and the purpose to gain that goal through man is the purpose of the whole process of evolution. (Ashish, Man, 5, 36)

Inner versus Biological Man

Ashish emphasizes the distinction between inner man, the Adam Kadmon of the Kabbalah, and biological man, which is the vehicle evolved through natural selection. Inner man, according to Ashish, inhabits a middle region between the unmanifest transcendent as described in The Secret Doctrine and the materialized universe inhabited by biological man. He speaks of "the strange, shifting, uneasy 'waters' of the Matrix'the mid-region of magical effects, ghosts, astral bodies, and other occult phenomena. . . . Those who reject this strange, magical area of experience as 'old wives' tales' and 'superstitious nonsense' are rejecting the key to the secret of life along with it" (Ashish, Man, 85).

He adds that this realm is extremely difficult to describe:

It has neither the relatively stable definition of the sensible universe, nor the intellectual clarity of the unmanifest Transcendent. So difficult is its nature to grasp that nearly all academic scientists prefer to ignore its presence, and so treacherous are its paths that most spiritual teachers seek to decry its importance. Yet we live constantly in its "watery" atmosphere, our life and our very existence depend upon it, and every physical form in the universe has arisen through its mediacy, for it is the subtle, impressionable link between mental concept and physical form. In effect, it is the same energy-filled space out of which this universe has grown and in which it stands, but only at this outermost edge of the manifestation do those energies reach a sufficient intensity to become visible to us . . .

We belong to those worlds more importantly than we do here, for from them we come and to them we return, and there, in some measure, both the memory of our source and the memories of our prior lives return to us. (Ashish, Man, 86, 123)

It is this middle region that explains telepathic communication from the Masters to HPB, Prem, and Ashish, and the power demonstrated by Gurdjieff and recounted by Ouspensky. It is this middle region through which we receive insight when the ordinary mind is quieted in meditation and in dreams.

The Effort Required

Although in our current state we are transitional beings, we need not denigrate our status as fifth-race men. About this Ashish writes:

In general, the fifth race cannot help being what it is any more than an animal can help being an animal. It represents man in the making. . . . The fifth-race man honestly believes that he is the prime mover of his world. . . . He places the satisfaction of his desires in external objects, which means . . . that the divine desire is externalized through him. In effect, this externalization of desire has produced not only the highly complex organizations of society and artifacts of technology, but also the strongly organized integrations of psychic function that in some sense "are" our human selves . . . [But] it is only when we begin to challenge the validity of our out-turned, self-gratifying, instinctual drives that we begin to grow in the new dimension of the sixth race. (Ashish, Man, 285—86)

The intentional effort necessary for becoming sixth-race man requires what Gurdjieff, throughout Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson, has called "conscious labor and intentional suffering," and this requires continual self-remembering, the centerpiece of Gurdjieff's practical teaching.

Ashish was more explicit, and in a 1989 letter he listed aspects of the intentional effort that one must make:

1. Keep up the self-remembering exercises all the time.

2. Give your mind food for thought which stimulates your aim [i.e., read spiritual literature].

3. Increase the periods and frequencies of meditation.

4. Record dreams and visions and work on their meanings.

5. Try to get inner sanction for even simple daily actions. The point is that the whole of your life has to be integrated around the center, and not just the spiritual bit of it.

6. Open yourself to the psychic contents of events, from perceiving the flow of life in plants to noting synchronicities. See/feel the "magic" of the world.

7. There is a connection between self-remembering and meditation. Keeping yourself centered at all times makes it easier to get into meditation at special times. (Ashish, Man, 151)

Ashish also stressed that few individuals have ever experienced the essential unity of being. "Yet," he adds, "that he is able to achieve such experience is the key to man's significance in relation to the whole range of manifest and transcendent being, for of all the forms evolved by the divine outpouring, in man alone the bright mirror of Mind relates the field of content to the focus of consciousness in the act of understanding. From this act both the Self of Man and the universal Self accumulate their store of experience. Then, when the long process of evolution comes to fruition, the Man-Plant flowers, the cycle of the evolution is complete, man is God and God is man, not only in principle but in full knowledge of the fact" (Ashish, Man, 37).

For Ashish, our task is to rediscover the unity in which subject and object are fused. "To do this we have to sift every sensation, emotion, and thought, always reserving the more subtle or inner component of its content, until we come to know that sensations are the caresses of the cosmic Woman in whose embrace we live" (Ashish, Man, 213).

In one of his last letters, Ashish wrote of the mystery of being: "The root of the mystery of being lies at the root of the awareness which perceives the universe. Every human being is human by virtue of that awareness. Every human being is or can be aware that he is aware. When that self-awareness is traced to its inner source, then only can the identity of individual with the universal be found, then only can the mystery of being be solved" (Ginsburg, Masters, 281).


References

Ashish, Sri Madhava. Man, Son of Man. Wheaton: Theosophical Publishing House, 1970.

 An Open Window: Dream as Everyman's Guide to the Spirit. Delhi: Penguin, 2007.

Blavatsky, H. P. The Secret Doctrine. Two volumes. London: Theosophy Co., 1888.

Ginsburg, Seymour B. The Masters Speak: An American Businessman Encounters Ashish and Gurdjieff. Wheaton: Quest, 2010.

. "HPB, Gurdjieff, and the Secret Doctrine." The American Theosophist, 76:5 (1988).

Gurdjieff, G. I. All and Everything: Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandson. New York: Dutton, 1950.

Moore, James. "A Footnote on Maud Hoffman and A. T. Barker." Theosophical History 3:3 (July 1990).

Ouspensky, P. D. In Search of the Miraculous. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1950.


Seymour B. Ginsburg was the first president of the Toys "R" Us chain. Cofounder of the Gurdjieff Institute of Florida, he is the former president of the Theosophical Society in south Florida and is the author of Gurdjieff Unveiled and The Masters Speak: An American Businessman Encounters Ashish and Gurdjieff (Quest, 2010.)


How to Evaluate Inner Guidance

Originally printed in the Fall 2011 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: McLaughlin, Corinne and Davidson, Gordon. "How to Evaluate Inner Guidance." Quest  99.4 (FALL 2011):136-138.
 

by Corinne McLaughlin and Gordon Davidson

Theosophical Society - Corinne McLaughlin and Gordon Davidson are coauthors of Spiritual Politics and Builders of the Dawn, and Gordon is author of the newly released Joyful Evolution. They are cofounders of the Center for Visionary Leadership, based in California and North Carolina, and of Sirius, a spiritual and ecological community in Massachusetts. Corinne coordinated a national task force for the President's Council on Sustainable Development. Gordon was the founding director of the Social Investment Forum and of Ceres, the Coalition for Environmentally Responsible Economies. Both are fellows of the World Business Academy and the Findhorn FoundationHow can you be sure that you are receiving reliable inner guidance about your life and your part in helping create a better world? How can you evaluate the messages or visions you receive in meditation or prayer? These questions are crucial, because many good people have been led astray and good projects have been harmed through false or misleading guidance.  

Some people believe that anything received in meditation must be truth from on high. They mistake what may be a distorted vision or message for true spiritual wisdom and may even let their ego become inflated about it.  

Receiving spiritual messages can be compared to receiving signals on a radio. While a good radio can easily pick up clear signals from both distant and nearby radio stations, a cheap or old radio can only pick up nearby stations and will receive a lot of distortion and static. Likewise, a relatively pure and developed spiritual person will pick up clear messages coming from a distance—the higher spiritual planes and the soul—although this happens less frequently than one would hope. A more self-centered or emotionally unbalanced person will pick up a great deal of distortion and will get messages only from nearby sources—the psychic or astral planes, where there is more static from the lower thoughts and emotions of humanity.  

It is important to learn how to objectively evaluate any spiritual messages or guidance that you or others receive. Here are some guidelines that might be helpful.  

First, remember that your most reliable source of information is your soul, sometimes also known as the spirit or higher self. This is the highest source of guidance for most people. It's best to consult someone else for spiritual guidance only if you're feeling totally stuck and are not getting any clear answers from within. Guidance from another person is not meant to take the place of your relationship to your soul, and it should never create dependency. It is merely meant to provide guideposts along the path and to help you develop your inner guidance. Do not depend on someone else's guidance or become passive and surrender your will. Your most precious gifts are your intelligence and your will—and your ability to make your own decisions.  

Nor is it healthy to take an attitude of "just following orders" when your inner guidance tells you to do something with which you don't agree. It's wiser to take responsibility for your life and challenge the guidance, especially if you suspect that it may be coming from an emotional or astral level that's not as clear as your soul.  

Remember that the relative purity of your life will attract guidance of similar vibration through the law of attraction or resonance. An emotionally uncentered person who's motivated by ego and a need to control others could attract a harmful or distorted message in meditation, as could someone who's feeling anger, fear, greed, or boredom. Negative emotions, wrong motivations, and confused thinking will distort any guidance received. So will drug or alcohol abuse.  

Ask yourself whether the information you've received in guidance is being applied in your daily life and whether it is helping you live a more spiritual life. "By their fruits you shall know them," the Bible says. Unless you work on purifying yourself, use your discrimination, and accept full responsibility for what comes through you, you can easily become deluded and harm others. This has happened many times and is why most spiritual traditions caution against lower psychism, where someone is open to any kind of message coming through him or her.  

Sources of Spiritual Guidance 

According to reliable spiritual researchers, there are several different levels that guidance can be coming from—and some levels are much clearer and more reliable than others. Most comes from a person's subconscious wish life or from what he or she has read in traditional religious sources. Thoughts can also be picked up telepathically from a teacher or others on the physical plane. A great deal of guidance also comes from the lower psychic plane, which is full of confusion, distortion, glamour, and flattery.  

The clearest guidance comes from your soul or inner divinity. Once a link with that source is firmly established, guidance can eventually be received from a more advanced teacher on the inner planes or from a true spiritual Master, such as Jesus, although this is rare.  

You can evaluate guidance by examining its content. True spiritual guidance never flatters or chastises the receiver and never demands obedience. It merely recommends a choice or course of action and leaves the person free to decide whether to follow it. It is intelligent and inspirational, and usually it is short and to the point. Guidance from the soul is often described as a still, small voice.  

On the other hand, guidance from the lower psychic levels is often long and flowery and/or confusing and contradictory, with many voices competing for attention. Such guidance can be harmful to others. It often flatters the ego of the receiver, creates a sense of glamour, specialness, and separa­tion and appeals to greed and desire for power. It can create fear, negativity, or feel­ings of unworthiness. It often demands obedience and surrender of your will and can conflict with your personal ethics. It may claim ultimate authority for itself and may not recognize any higher power.  

Lower psychic guidance is received through the solar plexus chakra rather than through the higher chakras, and is often unconscious, mediumistic, and received in a trance state. It usually presents a rehash of platitudes that can be found anywhere, and it may contradict the essential teachings of the major religions.  

Another tip-off that guidance is from a lower psychic plane is that it disparages the physical plane and practical living, claims that spiritual growth happens with no personal effort, or proclaims the half-truth that we are gods and perfect just as we are.

It helps to get a reality check and honest feedback from trusted friends about guidance you're receiving. Practical visionaries maintain a balanced life of involvement in the inner, visionary worlds and in the everyday physical world. They don't try to live totally in the inner worlds as an escape. Whatever wisdom is gained from the spiritual worlds must be applied in daily life, or it's useless. If guidance is not integrated in a practical way, it can lead to living in fantasy worlds and ultimately to psychological breakdown. We are in this world to learn the lessons that physical life has to teach.  

It's also important to recognize that the spiritual worlds are different from the physical world and that time and space are experienced differently there. Messages can be misinterpreted, especially if they predict the future and if the interpretations are made too literally, rather than symbolically or psychologically. For example, a message about a tidal wave could refer to being overwhelmed by a wave of emotions rather than warning about an actual tidal wave.  

How to Download Reliable Guidance 

If you are concerned about getting reliable guidance about your life, you can prepare for it by asking from your heart for the highest good and by making sure that your motivations are pure.  

Which techniques are most useful in seeking guidance from your soul? The most effective technique is a regular meditation practice. Although there are many types of meditation, it's always good to focus in your higher centers, your heart and head chakras rather than in your solar plexus center. If your energy stays focused at your solar plexus level and you become too passive, opening yourself to anything that comes into your awareness, you may pick up the feelings and thoughts of others. Or you may pick up an astral spirit who wants to influence you and who may not intend your highest good.  

It's best to stay alert and aware and to consciously seek contact with your soul. This can be done through prayer, visualization, invocation, or the focused attention of your higher mind. The important thing is to have the intention of contacting your soul for guidance, and not being open to just anything that wants to communicate with you.  

Regular meditation, study, and service will help purify your body, emotions, and mind of negativity. You can work on strengthening your mind and developing your will to consciously cooperate with God's will. Practice releasing your preferences and opinions, and then ask your soul for guidance. It is also important to purify your motivations so that you release any need for recognition and popularity.  

On the other hand, if you're concerned that you never receive guidance—no words or visions, even when you ask a question in your meditation—don't worry. Many spiritually evolved people don't receive guidance in this way. Rather they are guided in the moment, in action. The true goal is to be the guidance, to embody it moment to moment.  

In the end, the most important thing about guidance is learning how to think as wisely and broadly as more enlightened spiritual beings do. The more you ask yourself, "How would a higher being or master answer this question? What would Jesus or Moses or Buddha do?", the more you are developing wisdom within yourself and becoming enlightened.  

Strengthening Intuition in Daily Life

Practical visionaries often have a well-developed intuition to guide them. You can receive guidance not only while meditating but also through dreams and intuition during the course of your day. Guidance can be received in both ordinary and unusual ways.  

You can develop your intuition first by setting your intention to be more open to insights and by meditating regularly. You have to practice setting aside your rational, linear mind to listen inwardly. You can test your intuitive ability on small things, when there's no pressure to perform, and monitor how your body feels when your intuition is accurate versus when it is wrong.  

It's helpful to write down any insights that appear in your meditations or dreams. Keep a journal of intuitive experiences, and record daily hits and misses in order to see patterns and notice what affects accuracy. Verify your intuitive experiences with objective facts. Continually practicing truthfulness will help you be true to your inner experience.  

You might also want to notice unusual coincidences that pop up in your life and see if they offer any messages for you. Whom do you happen to run into on the street? What book falls off the shelf as you browse? You can also be guided by ordinary signs in your environment like highway ads and bumper stickers, by a random line in a book or magazine that grabs your attention, or by the conversations of complete strangers that you may overhear. You might even be guided by seeing light around the correct answers in a multiple-choice exam.  

There are many inspirational and useful messages for us that we miss because we're not paying attention. So while practicing regular meditation is helpful for receiving guidance for your life and clarifying your part in creating a better world, don't miss the guidance available all around you in your everyday life!


Corinne McLaughlin and Gordon Davidson are coauthors of Spiritual Politics and Builders of the Dawn, and Gordon is author of the newly released Joyful Evolution. They are cofounders of the Center for Visionary Leadership, based in California and North Carolina, and of Sirius, a spiritual and ecological community in Massachusetts. Corinne coordinated a national task force for the President's Council on Sustainable Development. Gordon was the founding director of the Social Investment Forum and of Ceres, the Coalition for Environmentally Responsible Economies. Both are fellows of the World Business Academy and the Findhorn Foundation. http://www.visionarylead.org/. This article is adapted from their book The Practical Visionary: A New World Guide to Spiritual Growth and Social Change.


 

 Meditative Techniques for Receiving Clear Inner Guidance 

  • Clarify and affirm your intention before you begin.  
  • Purify your motives for receiving guidance.  
  • Release ego needs, such as pride, greed, fear, anger, and any doubts that you can receive clear guidance.  
  • Relax, and take a few deep breaths to calm your body, emotions, and mind.  
  • Align yourself with the highest source within you (God, Spirit, Universal Mind, etc.).  
  • Invoke your soul, or higher self, and ask your question(s).  
  • Listen quietly for the answer from your soul, and write it down to remember it.  
  • Avoid becoming too passive. Stay conscious and aware.  
  • Be aware that the answer may come in many forms: direct knowing, words, pictures, symbols, inner light, energy sensation in the body, synchronistic events, a message from a friend or a passage in a book.  
  • Challenge your guidance regarding its spiritual source and authenticity. Make sure that it is coming from your soul, not from the lower psychic or astral planes.  
  • Make a commitment to follow through on the guidance you've received (use it or lose it), and take full responsibility for it.  

·         Dedicate yourself to living a life of service to others, because this will help create a field that attracts clearer guidance.

  

 

Turning Inward: The Process of Personal Recovery

Originally printed in the Fall 2011issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Bull, James L. "Turning Inward: The Process of Personal Recovery." Quest  99.4 (FALL  2011):133-135.

James L. Bull, Ph.D. 

Theosophical Society - James L. Bull first learned about Theosophy from his mother, Evelyn Bull, who had a number of articles and poems published in The American Theosophist. Now a retired psychologist, he remains active as a hospice volunteer.He poured us each a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table as I got out a tape recorder. 

I don't know if I can describe what the hole was like at Folsom to you, but it was pretty soul-shattering, I guess. I just really took a good look at myself and went through quite a psychological thing there, and just decided I was going to get the hell out of there and I was going to get out of prison and get out of the whole kind of pattern that I had lived all my life. I had been, you know, a criminal ever since I was this high; I had grown up with that sort of thing and had just been fortunate that I had never been caught till I was twenty-eight years old. So I really just made up my mind that I was going to change, that's all. There was no future in it for me . . . I was in there four months.

I had gone through that kind of change to a much lesser degree a number of times before. When I first got busted and did five years, I felt like, "Maybe I'm on the wrong track; maybe this isn't heading anyplace." But I always came back to that feeling, "Hell, if I can't have it the way I want it, to hell with it." Well, I arrived at the point where I just felt like this was not for me; I had to do something different. It was either that or go under; either that or resign myself to being in Folsom for the rest of my natural life. I had never been so thoroughly trapped before in my life. I really think for a man to make a profound change in his life, he has to go through some kind of experience that shakes him to his roots . . . otherwise, he goes along in the rut and makes half-hearted changes.

This man, whom I will call Frank, was put in the "hole"—solitary confinement—after being captured during a brief and failed escape attempt from Folsom Prison, a very old high-security prison in California. (The truck he escaped in had run out of gas on Folsom Dam, behind the prison.) Note that his effort was strikingly individual: because it was directed at and made use of the values of a community that existed outside the prison walls, it could receive no immediate validation. It was necessary for Frank to separate himself from the prison community. As he put it, "There are activities available, but they are all convict activities. In order to do anything that really gets you involved with the world, outside of prison, you have to develop activities on your own." Frank went on to become involved in a number of activities in prison—an art show, a drama group, a Toastmasters affiliate—that were oriented toward the outside world.

Frank was the first person that I spoke with in a study of personal recovery. I had wanted to meet some people whose lives had at one time been seriously misdirected but who had recovered a measure of indisputable success. I decided that talking with ex-prisoners was a good way to begin. When I first spoke with Frank, he had only recently been discharged from parole. I later realized that an equally appropriate pool of recovered persons could have been found at any local meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.

After I talked with recovering ex-prisoners, I reviewed some observations made by the nineteenth-century Danish philosopher Saren Kierkegaard. At one point—in Either/Or, volume two—Kierkegaard speaks (through a character, Judge William) to a young man whose existential condition resembled Frank's: 

One is not tempted to pity you but rather to wish that some day the circumstances of your life may tighten upon you the screws of its rack and compel you to come out with what really dwells in you, may begin the sharper inquisition of the rack which cannot be beguiled by nonsense and witticisms. Life is a masquerade, you explain, and for you this is inexhaustible material for amusement; and so far, no one has succeeded in knowing you.

Kierkegaard described a stage of spiritual development and a lifestyle which he called the aesthetic. This refers to much more than the appreciation of art and beauty, and includes the pursuit of the immediate things of life—including pleasures and sensations and the erotic and the sensuous generally. It refers to that which is experienced immediately and nonreflectively. The ability to experience pleasure is taken for granted. Choices are made toward the acquisition of unquestioned values; one is oriented toward "getting the most out of life." Because such experiences cannot be fully conveyed to or shared with others, they must be experienced to be fully appreciated. (As examples, consider skiing or sky diving, or marijuana smoking.) Disdain for nonparticipants is well-expressed by the phrase "Don't knock it if you've never tried it." Note that this consumption-oriented life does not lead to self-examination, nor does it does foster intimacy. This is especially true of intoxicants. Drinking does not unite alcoholics; it prevents them from being together on a deeper level; they are only experiencing stimulation in concert. Indeed intoxicant use prevents them from examining the facts of their lives that make such use necessary. They are trapped, and only radical change will extricate them.

Kierkegaard suggests that the pursuit of a life continually oriented toward externals leads to boredom and despair. Thoreau said the same thing: "A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind." Kierkegaard maintained that the aestheticist is in despair whether or not he is conscious of it. For the person who is consciously hurting, there is more hope than for the one who is able to stumble through life, compensating for one pleasure grown stale with another fresh with novelty. (How well this pattern applies to the stereotype of the playboy or the jet-setter. Perhaps I could have chosen the despairingly wealthy instead of prisoners as a study group!)

The key, then, to radical change is despair. Mere misfortune may only cause the individual to redouble his efforts toward the same objectives. Thus Frank, upon finding himself in solitary confinement, might have responded with a familiar convict phrase, "I can do that time standing on my head." Failure, on the other hand, may call attention to the hopelessness of the entire game. Thus finding oneself in the hole in Folsom Prison or in the gutter on skid row may be an important event. It may direct attention to the entire pattern of which the present situation is only a symptom. The task is for the individual to choose himself, and it is the choice to be made, for his survival is at stake. When oneself is chosen as a task and a challenge, one is transformed, for one has turned attention inward for the first time. The individual may now feel some self-determination—not in the pursuit of externals but in setting the course of his life. He has taken possession of his life. As Kierkegaard states, "He does not become another man than he was before, but he becomes himself, consciousness is unified, and he is himself."

Consider the case of another ex-prisoner whom I will call Pablo. He had been out of prison for about six months. During this time he had abstained from alcohol and drugs but had maintained an otherwise unchanged life style of thefts, con games, etc. He eventually resumed drug use and decided to go to Synanon, a residential recovery house. However, after a short stay he felt that he was institutionalized again and decided to make a complete break with his old life. In throwing himself into the world, so to speak, he called upon God to not let him die:

I told myself, "Whatever happens, I'm not going to use; I'm not going to drink; I'm not going to steal." I had remembered something said about, "If you do what's right, God is obligated to you," and I knew that emotionally I had problems . . . It was going to be hard for me to become independent, and I knew I needed help. I made, like, a bargain with God. I said, "Look, I'll do what is right, but you've got to take care of me. You've got to take care of me." I was, like, right up against the wall. "You've got to, man, because I can't make it. But I'll do my part: I won't use no stuff, I won't drink, and I won't hustle. I'll try to make it on the righteous." This was the beginning of a change in my way of life.

Upon leaving Synanon House on Christmas day, Pablo hitchhiked to downtown Los Angeles. There he decided to take the first bus he saw to its destination, where he would begin his new life. The bus took him to the nearby community of Glendale, where he located an Alcoholics Anonymous center and attended a meeting that evening. The following day, he began ringing doorbells, asking to do yard work. For over the next year, he attended AA meetings at least daily. When I interviewed him years later, he had a roofing company with four trucks.

Pablo's previous releases from custody were largely the constructions of others or were simply manipulations to get out—"can openers" in prison jargon. Those releases were part of the chain of events, including use, arrest, etc., that had been his life. This time he was not being released; he was releasing himself. He was not getting out of someone else's prison; he was getting out of his own. By beginning at rock bottom he could take responsibility and credit for what followed. Such a leap of faith was only possible through an act of faith. Again, Kierkegaard:

So it is too that in the eyes of the world it is dangerous to venture. And why? Because one may lose. But not to venture is shrewd. And yet, by not venturing, it is so dreadfully easy to lose that which it would be difficult to lose in even the most venturesome venture...one's self. For if I have ventured amiss—very well, then life helps me by its punishment. But if I have not ventured at all—who then helps me? And, moreover, if by not venturing at all in the highest sense (and to venture in the highest sense is precisely to become conscious of oneself) I have gained all earthly advantages...and lose my self! What of that?" Therefore, it requires courage for a man to choose himself;...for when the passion of freedom is aroused in him he chooses himself and fights for the possession of this object as he would for his eternal blessedness; and it is his eternal blessedness.

And to venture in the highest sense is precisely to become conscious of oneself.

Such choice lifts the individual to the next stage of Kierkegaard's progression: the ethical. What is of importance in ethical choice is not so much what is chosen but the transformation experienced by the chooser. Such a choice initially puts the individual in a very exposed and vulnerable position, and much more dependent on others—or, in Pablo's case, on God. Such vulnerability may also open the person to others. Another man explained:

I was going to walk across the street to get a toothbrush, and the realization hit me that I couldn't trust myself. I was afraid that if I went across the street to the drugstore, I wouldn't get back—that I'd go out and get loaded. It was the first time I ever really asked for help. I turned to my friend and said, "Hey, Tom, will you do something for me?" And he said, "What?" I said, "Walk across with me. I'm afraid to go." He was the first guy I could pour out my life story to. I don't think I held anything back.

A person who has limited his options, his relationships, and his experiences—who has painted himself into a corner of life, so to speak—has little flexibility left. He may possess sophisticated skills needed to survive within his specialized world, and he may be adept at handling all the dangers and contingencies involved, such as learning how to do time in prison. But all such threats are external, and they leave him unprepared to cope with deeper anxiety. Hence a man who has spent his life as a sophisticated hustler, thief, and drug dealer leaves Synanon only through an act of faith. And another, with similar credentials, is afraid to walk across the street alone to buy a toothbrush. These are acts of greater courage than either man has yet exercised, for in taking these risks they confront, not concrete situations, but their own capacities. This time the threat is not in being arrested, but in losing oneself.

A shift has taken place in which strength is shown, not through toughness, but through vulnerability. Kierkegaard notes, "But he who cannot reveal himself cannot love, and he who cannot love is the most unhappy man of all." How precious this vulnerability, which reveals us at last to ourselves and to others—and even to God.

These examples involve persons whose lifestyles had progressively closed them off from themselves and from intimate contact with others. Any form of addictive behavior provides an extreme example, in which one's attention becomes exclusively focused on the objective, the appetite, the obsession. In these examples, a radical shift was necessary in order for them to begin a deeper and far richer life. Note that our economic system tends to focus attention on commodities, acquisitions, and pursuits. How important for all of us, then, to maintain a capacity for reflection, intimacy, and self-discovery.


James L. Bull, Ph.D. is a semiretired psychologist. His article "Saving Nature: In Praise of Frugality" appeared in the March-April 2007 issue of Quest.


How the Masters Know Truth

Originally printed in the Summer 2011 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Shirley J. Nicholson. "How the Masters Know Truth
." Quest  99. 3 (Summer 2011): 114 - 115.

by Shirley J. Nicholson

Theosophical Society - Shirley Nicholson, former chief editor for Quest Books, served as director of the Krotona School of Theosophy in Ojai, California, and later as administrative head of the Krotona Institute. She is corresponding secretary for the Esoteric School in North America. She is author of two books on Theosophy, compiler of several anthologies, and has written many articles for Theosophical journals.How do we know anything? Those who study thought processes tell us we work mostly with concepts, maps, descriptions, not with the reality they describe. We can see this for ourselves through observing our thinking. We may find that too often inaccurate perceptions are the basis for a mistaken concept, and that we form opinions and biases without being aware that they color our perception of the truth. We tend to exaggerate the size and importance of what we feel is our best interest. For example, studies show that underprivileged children perceive coins as being larger than do more affluent children. But we can move toward truth if we can learn to distinguish opinion from fact and see things as they really are, unmixed with our wishes and fears, which throw a kind of veil over the bare, direct truth.

Ordinarily we get knowledge from what the senses tell us, providing us with facts from which we make deductions. Sherlock Holmes is a good example. He might see a corpse, a bullet, a shoe print, or other physical evidence. He would use his "little gray cells" to deduce that a six-foot farmer had been present at the scene of the murder. Holmes used the scientific method of making predictions from hypotheses and concepts based on physical evidence. He also used intuition. He intuitively knew where to look for clues and how to put the pieces together. He used empathy as well. He had knowledge of the criminal mind and could feel as another would have felt.

The Master Koot Hoomi, the principal author of The Mahatma Letters, a book of letters from two Masters to two early Theosophists, hints that Masters know truth in a different way from our usual modes: "Believe me, there comes a moment in the life of an adept when the hardships he has passed through are a thousandfold rewarded. In order to acquire further knowledge, he has no more to go through a minute and slow process of investigation and comparison of various objects, but is accorded in instantaneous, implicit insight into every first truth. . . . The adept sees and feels and lives in the very source of all fundamental truths—the Universal Spiritual Essence of Nature" (Barker and Chin, 55).

Like Sherlock Holmes, the Masters use empathy to perceive, but their capacity for perception clearly surpasses ordinary human means. There is much evidence that K. H. and other adepts knew in ways scarcely available to us. At one point K. H. relates an incident that occurred when Henry Steel Olcott and H. P. Blavatsky had a serious disagreement. Olcott, on shipboard, was thinking dark thoughts about her. K. H. wrote to Olcott that he was aware of these thoughts and counseled him about them (Jinarajadasa, 50).

But the first truths that the Master referred to as a prize of adeptship are much grander. They are fundamental, primary, first principles from which other truths can be derived. They are changeless, eternal. In logic, these first principles consist of axioms, assumptions, theorems on which patterns of reasoning are built. In physics, gravity is an example of a first truth; falling apples and the orbiting behavior of spaceships are its effects.

The principles of Theosophy can be considered first truths. The fundamental truth is unity, the one source that is behind all interconnections and brotherhood. As the late Theosophical teacher Ianthe Hoskins said so often, quoting HPB, "Existence is one thing."

Another principle can be found in the cycles that occur everywhere in nature, of which reincarnation is an instance. Still another is the unfoldment of consciousness from within, which gives rise to evolution in the kingdoms of nature, as well as to races and rounds. This is associated with emanation of forms from higher or more ethereal levels of being to lower or denser ones. The planes of nature derive from this universal principle.

We know basic truths primarily as concepts, through words, thoughts, theories of which we are convinced. But Theosophical teacher and author Joy Mills tells us that we must learn to distinguish first truths from the mental concepts that derive from them. The Masters experience these first truths, not through thought processes, but as "instantaneous, implicit insight." This kind of knowing is a function of consciousness itself. Concepts and constructs have their place, but they cannot replace this fundamental knowing. Indeed such instantaneous insight suffers in the translation into content or ordinary knowledge. As is said in the Mahatma Letters, "‘Truthâ— is One; and cannot admit of diametrically opposite views; and pure spirits who see it as it is with the veil of matter entirely withdrawn from it—cannot err" (Barker and Chin, 67; emphasis in the original).

We live primarily in the personality, the physical body, the emotions, and the lower or concrete mind, whereas adepts are centered in the higher individuality: atma or essential being, buddhi or higher intuition, and manas or spiritual insight and knowledge. Adepts live, not in truths, but in Truth.

The adept sees and feels and lives in the very source of all fundamental truths—the Universal Spiritual Essence of Nature, that from which all emerges—Ultimate Reality. Noted Theosophical author I. K. Taimni has said that in Ultimate Reality all truths of existence are contained in an integrated and harmonized form. They appear as partial and different truths of infinite variety in the realm of manifestation. In occultism only Ultimate Reality is referred to as Truth.

Trying to portray a state of total contemplation, the sixteenth-century Spanish mystic St. John of the Cross says that he passed beyond all ordinary knowledge and reached a state of knowing beyond words. Similarly, the Tao Teh Ching says that the Tao (the essential reality) that can be said is not the true Tao. The third Chinese Châ—an Buddhist patriarch advised that if you stop talking and thinking, "there is nothing you will not be able to know." Our ordinary state of mind is subject to distortion, fantasy, dreams, maya or illusion. We must quiet this mind in order to see Truth.

The Idyll of the White Lotus, a work by the nineteenth-century Theosophist Mabel Collins, says: "The principle that gives life dwells in us, and without us, is undying and eternally beneficent, is not heard, or seen, or smelt, but is perceived by the man who desires perception" (Collins, 123). If we can still our minds and learn to perceive it, we move a step above our "land of dream and fiction" to the Mastersâ— "Truth land" (Barker and Chin, 440). It is then possible to have moments of "instantaneous, implicit insight."


References 

Barker, A. T., and Vicente Hao Chin Jr., eds. The Mahatma Letters from the Mahatmas M. and K. H. in Chronological Sequence. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1998.

Blavatsky, H. P. The Secret Doctrine. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1979.

Collins, Mabel. The Idyll of the White Lotus. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1952.

Jinarajadasa, C., ed. Letters from the Masters of Wisdom, First Series. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1948.

Shirley Nicholson, former chief editor for Quest Books, served as director of the Krotona School of Theosophy in Ojai, California, and later as administrative head of the Krotona Institute. She is corresponding secretary for the Esoteric School in North America. She is author of two books on Theosophy, compiler of several anthologies, and has written many articles for Theosophical journals.


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