Today, I have a very short quote from one of my favourite books, but despite its length, we could really write books and books upon it. But I'll try one blog entry.
This quote is from the ancient Hindu text The Bhagavadgita:
From S. Radhakrishnan's commentary on The Bhagavadgita (1948)
"Man, essentially, is not a part of nature but a spirit that interrupts the continuity of nature."
We can categorize the universe into two aspects (though later, we'll see that one aspect is actually a part of the other, but ignore that for now): the field, and the knower of the field.
The field is the world, the unconscious matter and energy out of which the universe is formed. There are also knowers of the field, the sparks of consciousness that can perceive the world. The field is called prakrti, and the knower is called purusa.* These also correspond to the body (field) and the mind (knower).
Yet beyond our individual consciousness is the supreme "knower" that witnesses everything. This is called ksetrajna, the knower of all objects. Yet so too is this consciousness within all objects. It is a panentheist idea: the knower--God, the first cause, or whatever you like best--is within all objects, but is also beyond them. He is not the world (pantheism), but the world is within him.
Humans are two-fold beings, both prakrti and purusa. We are limited by our body and our senses, by the elemental forces of the world that prevent us from living out our full potential. Yet what really defines us as humans is our consciousness that connects us to ksetrajna. As Radhakrishnan writes, "Man, as a subject, has another origin. He is not a child of the world...He does not belong to the objective hierarchy of nature...He can only be recognized as a subject, in which is hidden the secret of existence, a complete universe in an individual form."
This returns us to the quote; we are, in a sense, a microcosm of the universe, both prakrti and purusa. Like ksetrajna, our bodies are a part of us, but so too are we something beyond them. As part of the universal consciousness, we are a subject and not just an object. We disrupt the continuity of nature in the sense that we do not just obey physical laws, but have a freedom that can change the course of nature. Maybe we can't change forces of nature like reversing gravity, but we can make decisions, and these choices set us apart from inert matter that will just follow natural laws (natural laws involve some probability, but not "choice").
Man "enters into infinity and infinity enters into him." This is difficult to grasp (is it even possible to grasp something that involves infinity?) but the idea seems to be that the universal consciousness is infinite, and as we ourselves are microcosms of this infinity, we too must be infinite (in the sense that we are purusa). But we are still part of the greater universal infinity! (This is my interpretation, at least). It is the paradox of immanence and transcendence: the knower/consciousness/God is in the world and beyond it, is infinite and finite. We are both infinite and finite.
One can also look at this from a scientific angle. In quantum physics, we have a world of subatomic particles that our observations can alter. The very act of measuring some property of the particles will alter their qualities. We are the knowers of the field, not just matter, but something beyond it. Something that can "interrupts" nature.
It is even more intriguing because particles are described by fields, so matter is in fact just quantum fields interacting with each other. Our consciousness is another sort of field that is not the material, and it allows us to interact with the world. The quantum world, the "fields", serve as the interface between matter and consciousness: the fields of matter can interact with the fields of consciousness at this level.
So this quality of being a "knower", or having conscious perceptions of reality, is what distinguishes us as human beings. We are not just a part of nature, but a spirit. To fully realize this identity, to gain the freedom which is characteristic of our identity, we must rise above the limitations of our prakrti nature and truly be the souls we are behind it all.
*Note that I'm using the spelling of these words (and others later on) given in Radhakrishnan's translation, but I am omitting the accents, so they might not be technically correct. The ideas behind them should be clear nonetheless.
My blog post today appears on the Tesseracts 18 blog: check it out here!
http://tesseracts18.com/2015/09/24/faith-and-knowledge-how-can-we-know/
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Today is National Read a Book Day, which means....READ! You might not be able to read an entire book today, but it would be great if everyone can take the time to read something lovely. And, as you would know from my previous post, one such lovely book is The Lost Prince by Frances Hodgson Burnett, a lovely but little-known classic that takes place in the 19th century. The Lost Prince is a great story to read before bed.
Let's read some of this wonderful story today. This passage is from near the beginning of the story when Marco and his father are talking about Samavia, the country they are from, and where the Lost Prince is from...
"We are of those who must LIVE for Samavia—working day and night," his
father had answered; "denying ourselves, training our bodies and souls,
using our brains, learning the things which are best to be done for our
people and our country. Even exiles may be Samavian soldiers—I am
one, you must be one."
"Are we exiles?" asked Marco.
"Yes," was the answer. "But even if we never set foot on Samavian
soil, we must give our lives to it. I have given mine since I was
sixteen. I shall give it until I die."
"Have you never lived there?" said Marco.
A strange look shot across his father's face.
"No," he answered, and said no more. Marco watching him, knew he must
not ask the question again.
The next words his father said were about the promises. Marco was
quite a little fellow at the time, but he understood the solemnity of
them, and felt that he was being honored as if he were a man.
"When you are a man, you shall know all you wish to know," Loristan
said. "Now you are a child, and your mind must not be burdened. But
you must do your part. A child sometimes forgets that words may be
dangerous. You must promise never to forget this. Wheresoever you
are; if you have playmates, you must remember to be silent about many
things. You must not speak of what I do, or of the people who come to
see me. You must not mention the things in your life which make it
different from the lives of other boys. You must keep in your mind
that a secret exists which a chance foolish word might betray. You are
a Samavian, and there have been Samavians who have died a thousand
deaths rather than betray a secret. You must learn to obey without
question, as if you were a soldier. Now you must take your oath of
allegiance."
He rose from his seat and went to a corner of the room. He knelt down,
turned back the carpet, lifted a plank, and took something from beneath
it. It was a sword, and, as he came back to Marco, he drew it out from
its sheath. The child's strong, little body stiffened and drew itself
up, his large, deep eyes flashed. He was to take his oath of
allegiance upon a sword as if he were a man. He did not know that his
small hand opened and shut with a fierce understanding grip because
those of his blood had for long centuries past carried swords and
fought with them.
Loristan gave him the big bared weapon, and stood erect before him.
"Repeat these words after me sentence by sentence!" he commanded.
And as he spoke them Marco echoed each one loudly and clearly.
"The sword in my hand—for Samavia!
"The heart in my breast—for Samavia!
"The swiftness of my sight, the thought of my brain, the life of my
life—for Samavia.
"Here grows a man for Samavia.
"God be thanked!"
Then Loristan put his hand on the child's shoulder, and his dark face
looked almost fiercely proud.
"From this hour," he said, "you and I are comrades at arms."
And from that day to the one on which he stood beside the broken iron
railings of No. 7 Philibert Place, Marco had not forgotten for one hour.
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The Lost Prince is one of my favourite books, telling the story of a boy named Marco and his father who are exiles from their homeland in Samavia (a fictional European country in the 1800s). It is a rather Arthurian story (the once and future king!), and like other books by Burnett, includes elements of Eastern mysticism and philosophy. Here is one quote that takes place during a conversation between Marco and his friend The Rat:
From The Lost Prince by Frances Hodgson Burnett (1915)
"'All thinking is part of the Big Thought,' said Marco slowly. "It KNOWS--It KNOWS. And the outside part of us somehow broke the chain that linked us to It. And we are always trying to mend the chain, without knowing it. That is what our thinking is--trying to mend the chain. But we shall find out how to do it sometime."
This seems to be a similar theme with other things I've written as of late, but it's not a coincidence! (In a future post I'll write about how the philosophical side of this can be connected to science, in particular, physics.)
Later on, Marco talks about the Law of The One. It is:
"There are a myriad of worlds. There is but One Thought out of which they grew. Its Law is Order which cannot swerve. Its creatures are free to choose. Only they can create Disorder, which in itself is Pain and Woe and Hate and Fear. These they alone can bring forth. The Great One is a Golden Light. It is not remote but near. Hold thyself within its glow and thou wilt behold all things clearly. First, with all thy breathing being, know one thing! That thine own thought--when so thou standest--is one with That which thought the Worlds!"
This is also a very Buddhist/Hindu/Taoist teaching, and the idea of a myriad of worlds is essentially a multiverse of different worlds with different dimensions or laws, all of which arise form the one thought. The One is the force that created all the worlds, all of which are still under its sway. This is also reminiscent of Neoplatonism: all lower planes of existence emerge from the One. We have "Nous" below the One (the Divine Mind), then Soul, and then Body (i.e., the material world). I could go into how the Kabbalah is related to this too, but you can just check out the previous post here.
And the mention of Order is interesting because it is common theme in all these philosophies that the One is a simple undifferentiated being (if it can even be called a "being"), and the worlds that exist below it are more differentiated and thus, can be prone to good or evil, love or hate, etc. It is like a beam of white light being dispersed by a prism: the white light is the One, and the coloured beams arise from it, but are not as pure and simple as the white light, and so can take on different characteristics. Yet still, they are all connected to the One, and it is by remembering this and dwelling in the simplicity of the One that one might mend the chain. We are trying to return to the mode of existence that is above our own, and although we can't do it in this physical form, we still ever strive to do it. Body is ever striving to return to Soul, a simpler and purer plane of existence (if you think of it in terms of dimensions, it is to encompass a higher dimension). And Soul is striving to return to Nous, and Nous to the One. So they are all linked, and so the metaphor of the chain is perfect for representing these different layers of existence and how one might attune oneself to the level of existence above it.There is also the Law of That Which Creates, which Marco's father told him:
"Let pass through thy mind, my son, only the image thou wouldst desire to see become a truth. Meditate only upon the wish of thy heart--seeing first that it is such as can wrong no man and is not ignoble. Then will it take earthly form and draw near to thee."
This touches upon the power of our thoughts, how what we think draws the object of our thoughts toward us. Of course, it is not as obvious as thinking about getting something and then getting it, but if we attune ourselves to a certain frame of mind, we will more naturally be able to find others who think similarly and be drawn toward those things in the world. If we think badly of someone else, it will only come back to us, for we are also told that "Let him who stretcheth forth his hand to draw the lightning to his brother recall that through his own soul and body will pass the bolt." Thus the common saying that good begets good and evil begets evil.
I wish this book was more well known, because it is an amazing story that should be forever a Classic. And to all those seekers out there, I wish you well in mending the chain...
[Note: the black and white illustrations are from one of the original editions of the book]
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Kabir was a mysitc poet who lived in India in the 15th century. He tried to untie people of Hindu, Islamic, Sufi, and other religions together, believing that the unity of a single God that was at the base of all these religions. He was critical of both the Hinduism and Islam and their isolation from others (these were the main religions he tried to unite and that were prevalent in India in his time). He also believed in a more personal spiritual path to understand and feel the Divine for oneself, something that is in everyone and the world. It is a sort of pantheism that connects everything and everyone together.
Here is a quote from one the poems:
From Songs of Kabir (~mid 1400s, translated by Rabindranath Tagore):
"The moon shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it:
The moon is within me, and so is the sun.
The unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me; but my deaf ears cannot hear it.
So long as man clamours for the I and the Mine, his works are as naught:
When all love of the I and the Mine is dead, then the work of the Lord is done.
For work has no other aim than the getting of knowledge:
When that comes, the work is put away.
The flower blooms for the fruit: when the fruit comes, the flower withers."
So too is the sun within us, the giver of light and life. The principles of male and female are also represented by the sun and moon, and these qualities are within us all. And the "unstruck drum of Eternity" seems to me to be the One, the Tao, Brahman (or Aristotle's "unmoved mover"!), the one being that is the world and also beyond it. This is more panentheism rather than pantheism: pantheism is that God is the world, but panentheism is that the world is in God but that God is also greater than the world.
The next part about the "I" and "Mine" has a distinctively Buddhist flavour. If we continue to think of things as distinct from us, then we will either be in a state of lack or wealth with respect to them. We will "have" the American Girl doll, or we will not have it. And if we don't "have" it, we will (presumably) suffer. Instead, we must learn to see it not as something to gain or lose, but a part of the universe that we are already at one with. We don't need to have things for ourselves, we don't need to possess the world, possess other countries, or other planets and solar systems even! It's not about owning, because anything we own can be taken away. And anything that can be taken away from us has some control over us: we will always be striving to protect our things and strive to get more and more (e.g. "don't touch my American Girl doll!", "I will put it under lock and key!"). And isn't that what so much of our life is focused on in our society? Getting money, getting a car, getting a house, getting an American Girl doll...and even for those who want to gain knowledge, it's about "getting" the best book to do so. With this mindset, we will always be 'clamouring' to get this and that, instead of focusing on what is important.
And what is important, then? Here, it seems that Kabir is saying that the pursuit of knowledge and truth is, and I would agree with him. And based on what he's written elsewhere, I would add that this gaining of the truth is to experience the oneness of the universe and our unity with it. God is the universe, and so to know God, we must experience him through out lives and perceptions, not only grasping him in thought. It is to love the world in its entirety, which might be achieved by the realization (through learning or direct experience) of how we are connection to everything in the universe. This isn't just mysticism, but has correspondences to physics as well, such as the entanglement of particles and the equivalence of mass and energy (see The Tao of Physics, in particular).And so we must go beyond seeing the world as opposites and separate beings to perceive what underlies it all. Perk your mind and ears to hear that unstruck drum of Eternity...
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