SELF-NESS AND SELFLESSNESS
During what is historically known as the Dark Ages, the esoteric meaning of
religious practices became obscured. This is true no less, and no more, of
Oriental countries, than of European. The long night through which the
earth passed during that time and since, but foreshadowed a coming dawn. In
the still very imperfect light of the dawning day, truth is seen but dimly,
and its rays appear distorted, whereas, when seen with the "pure and
spotless eye" they are straight and clear and simple.
Indeed, the very simplicity of Truth causes her to pass unnoticed.
While to the superficial observer; the student who is mentally eager but
who lacks the wonderful penetrating power of spiritual insight, there seems
to be a great complexity in Oriental philosophy, the fact is, that the
entire aggregation of systems is simple enough when we have the key.
One of the stumbling blocks; the inexplicable enigma to many Occidental
students, is the problem of the preservation, of the Self, and the constant
admonition to become selfless. The two appear paradoxical.
How may the Self acquire consciousness and yet become selfless?
Throughout the Oriental teachings, no matter which of the many systems we
study, we find the oft-repeated declaration that liberation can never be
accomplished and Nirvana reached, by him "who holds to the idea of self."
It is this universally recognized aphorism which has given rise to the
erroneous conception of Nirvana as absorption of all identity.
Hakuin Daisi, the St. Paul of Japanese Buddhism, cautioned his disciples
that they must "absorb the self into the whole, the cosmos, if they would
never die," and Jesus assured his hearers that "he who loses his life for
my sake shall find it."
Christians have taken this simple statement to mean that he who endured
persecution and death because of his espousal of Christianity, would be
rewarded in the way that a king bestows lands and titles, for defense of
his person and throne.
This is the limited viewpoint of the personal self; it is far from being
consistent with the wisdom of the Illumined Master.
He who has sufficient spiritual consciousness to desire the welfare of
_all_, even though his own life and his own possessions were the price
therefore, can not lose his life. Such a one is fit for immortality and
his godhood is claimed by the very act of renunciation--not as a reward
bestowed for such renunciation.
By the very act of willingness to lose the self we find the Self. Not the
self of externality. Not the self that says "I am a white man; or a black
man; or a yellow man; or a red man." That says "I am John Smith"--or any
other name. The awareness of this kind of selfhood, this personal self, is
like looking at one's reflection in the mirror and saying, "Ah, I have on a
becoming attire," or "my face looks sickly to-day." It is the same "I" that
looked yesterday and found the face looking excellently well, so that there
must have been consciousness behind the observation, that could take
cognizance of the difference in appearance of yesterday's reflection and
that which met that cognizing eye to-day.
Eagerness to retain consciousness of the personal self blocks the way of
Illumination which uncovers the real, the greater, the higher Self--the
_atman_.
This constant adjuration to sink the self into The Absolute, is what has
given rise to so much difference of interpretation as to the meaning of
_mukti_, liberation. It sounds paradoxical to state that it is only by
giving up all consciousness of self, that immortal Self-hood is gained.
Thus has arisen all the confusion as to the meaning of "absorption into a
state of bliss." How may the Self realize a state of selflessness and yet
not be lost in a sea of _un_ consciousness?
Only one who is capable of self-sacrifice were he called upon, can
correctly answer this question, and by what may be termed the very _law of
equation_, the sacrifice becomes impossible.
Should any one seek to bargain with himself to pay the price of loss of
self, so that he might gain the higher, fuller life, his sacrifice would be
in vain because it would not be selflessness, but selfishness--there could
be no _sacrifice_, were it a bargain.
Let no one think that this unchanging law of the Cosmos is in the nature of
either reward or punishment, or that it was devised by the gods, as a
method of initiation--a test of fitness for Nirvana. Even though the test
be applied by the gods, it is not of their planning.
It _is_, just as the absolute _is_, and analysis of the way and wherefrom
is not possible of contemplation.
If it sometimes appears that Illumined Ones have seemed to infer a loss of
identity of the Self, it should be remembered that not only have these
reported instances of liberation (cosmic consciousness attained), been
vague, but they have necessarily suffered from the impossibility of
describing that which is indescribable. We should also remember that
translators employ the words in the English language which most nearly
express their interpretation of the original meaning.
Words are at best but clumsy symbols.
Perfect bliss is voiceless--inexpressible.
This does not, however, mean that perfect bliss is nothingness. Rather is
it _everything-ness_, in that it is all-embracing in its realization. In
complete realization of the Cosmos nothing is excluded. Exclusiveness is a
concomitant of the state of consciousness pertinent to the personal self,
which state is not excluded from the consciousness described as cosmic,
_nirvana_ or _mukti_, but on the contrary, is included in it, even as the
simple vibrations of the musical scale are included in the great harmonies
of Wagner's compositions.
"He who has realized Brahman becomes silent," says Ramakrishna.
"Discussions and argumentations exist so long as the realization of The
Absolute does not come. If you melt butter in a pan over a fire, how long
does it make a noise? So long as there is water in it. When the water is
evaporated it ceases to make further noise. The soul of the seeker after
Brahman may be compared to fresh butter. Discussions and argumentations of
a seeker are like the noise caused during the process of purification by
the fire of knowledge. As the water of egotism and worldliness is
evaporated and the soul becomes purer, all noise of debates and discussions
ceases and absolute silence reigns in the state of _samadhi_."
A better translation of the word "noise" would be "sputtering."
Sound is not necessarily _noise_. The idea conveyed is not intended to be a
condition in which the soul becomes anæsthetized as it were, but a state of
_knowing_, and the effort and the sputtering of _questioning_ and
_searching_ is passed.
The same gospel better expresses the meaning thus:
"The bee buzzes so long as it is outside the lotus, and does not settle
down in its heart to drink of the honey. As soon as it tastes of the honey
all buzzing is at an end. Similarly all noise of discussion ceases when the
soul of the neophyte begins to drink the nectar of Divine Love, at the
lotus feet of the Blissful One."
Who will not say that the bee is more satisfied when he has found and drank
of the honey than when he is buzzingly seeking it?
Surely it is not necessary to be of one mind, in order that we may be of
one heart. Even though we were as "like as two peas in a pod," it is well
to note that the two peas are _two_ spheres--nature has made them separate
and distinct despite their close resemblance.
To unite with the absolute should correspond to this unity of all hearts in
the desire for a common effort to establish harmony, while we permit to
each individual the freedom of mind; of taste; of choice of pursuits; of
choice of pleasure; of discrimination; and preservation of identity.
Our contention is that _mukti_, or liberation (which we believe to be
identical with attainment of cosmic consciousness) does not mean an
absorption into the Universal, the Absolute, Brahm, to the extent of
annihilation of identity. And we claim that this view finds corroboration
in the best interpretation of Oriental philosophies and religions, as well
as in the Christian doctrine.
Says Nagasena, the Buddhist sage:
"He who is not free from passion experiences both the taste of food, and
also the passion due to that taste; while he who is free from passion
experiences the taste of food but no passion."
Hence we discover that the state of Illumination, _samadhi_, or _mukti_,
according to the most enlightened and logical interpretation, means a calm
and peaceful consciousness, undisturbed by passion. But we should not
interpret the word "passion" as here used, to mean absence of all
sensation, feeling or knowledge.
There is absolutely no arbitrary interpretation or translation of the words
of Buddha, nor can there be. The same is true of Confucius; of Mohammed; of
Krishna; of Laotze; of Jesus; of all the teachers and philosophers of the
world.
Who of you who read these words has not listened to debates and endless
discussions as to what even so modern a writer as Emerson or Whitman, or
Nietzche or Kobo Daisi, or some other, may have meant by certain
statements?
In the Samyutta Nikaya we read:
"Let a man who holds the Self clear, keep that Self free from wickedness."
This does not imply annihilation of identity, _absorption_ of
consciousness, although it has been so interpreted by many students. On the
contrary, instead of losing consciousness of the Self (which is not merely
the personality), we _find_ the Real Self.
As an adult we realize more consciousness than we do as infants. Not that
we possess more consciousness. We cannot acquire consciousness as we
accumulate _things_. We can not add one iota to the sum of consciousness,
but we can and do uncover portion upon portion of the vast area of
consciousness which _is_.
Says the Dhammapada:
"As kinsmen, friends and lovers salute a man who has been long away and
returns safe from afar; in like manner his good deeds receive him who has
done good, and who has gone from this world to the other, as kinsmen
receive a friend on his return."
If this state of _mukti_ were annihilation of individual consciousness it
would hardly be an incentive to do good deeds, except that good deeds in
themselves bring happiness, but if the bringing of happiness did not also
bring with it a larger consciousness, it would not be true happiness, but
merely a _condition_, and conditions are always subject to change.
"It is not separateness you should hope and long for; it is _union_--the
sense of oneness with all that is, that has ever been and that can ever
be--the sense that shall _enlarge the horizon of your being_, to the limits
of the universe; to the boundaries of time and space; that shall lift you
up into a new plane far beyond, outside all mean and miserable care for
self. Why stand shrinking there? Give up the fool's paradise of 'This is
I'; 'This is mine.' It is the great reality you are asked to grasp. Leap
forward without fear. You shall find yourself in the ambrosial waters of
Nirvana and sport with the Arhats who have conquered birth and death."
This admonition to give up the struggle and strife for separateness is
interpreted by many to declare for annihilation of consciousness of
identity, but we contend that _union_ is in no wise akin to annihilation,
and since this assurance of union is further described as an enlargement of
the horizon of _your being_, it is evident that your being can not be
enlarged by becoming annihilated, or even _absorbed into_ The Absolute, as
in that event it would cease to be _your being_. Moreover, you are told
that you will "sport with the Arhats who have conquered birth and death."
Arhats are alluded to in the plural, and not as One Being.
To be sure there may be a final state of absorption of consciousness far
beyond this state of being which is described as Nirvana.
Theosophy lays much stress upon the assumption that the attainment of
godhood is possible to every human soul, but that this godhood must
inevitably have an ultimate conclusion. That is, there is a _place_ or
heaven, which is called the Devachanic plane, and this plane, or place,
is inhabited by "gods," for a definite period, approximating thousands of
years, but that the final conclusion must be, absorption of identity into
the universal reservoir of mind, or consciousness. But we may readily see
that beyond the Devachanic plane, we may not penetrate with the limited
consciousness which takes cognizance of external conditions. Any attempt,
therefore, at a description of what occurs to the individual consciousness
beyond the areas of Devachan, must be futile.
The argument that most logically postulates the assumption that all
identity, or differentiation of consciousness, becomes absorbed into The
Absolute, is based upon the fact that we remember nothing of previous
states of consciousness. That is, the devious pathway by which the
advanced and progressive individual has reached his present state or
realization of consciousness, is shrouded in oblivion. From this it is
not unnatural to assume that since we have come OUT OF THE VOID, having
apparently no memory or realization of what preceded this coming, we will
return to the same state, when we shall have completed the round of
evolution.
This postulate, is, however, merely the result of our limited power of
comprehension, and may or may not be true. The answer is as yet
inexplicable to the finite mind, considered from the standpoint of relative
proof.
If it were a fact, that all Oriental sages experiencing the phenomenon of
liberation, _mukti_, had reported what would seem to be annihilation of
identity of consciousness, we still maintain that this fact would not be
proof sufficient upon which to postulate this conclusion, for the very
obvious reason that the present era promises what Occidental theology,
science, and philosophy unite in designating as a "new dispensation,"
wherein the "old shall pass away," and a "new order" shall be established.
"Look how the fine and valuable gold-dust shifts through the screen,
leaving only the useless stones and debris in the catches; even so that
which is infinitely fine substance becomes lost when sifted through the
screen of the limited mind of man," said a wise Japanese high priest.
However, it is our contention that Buddhism, far indeed from postulating
the assumption that individual consciousness is swallowed up in The
Absolute, as is frequently understood by Occidental translators of
Buddhistic writings, announces a calm and unquestioning conviction in the
power of man to attain to immortality, and consequent godhood, through
contemplation of faith in his own identity with the _Supreme One_.
When we consider that there are in the religion of Buddhism, as many as
sixty different expositions of the teachings of the Lord Buddha, and that
these vary, even as the Christian sects vary in their interpretations and
presentments of the instructions of the Master, Jesus of Nazareth, we begin
to have some idea of the difficulties of correct interpretation of the
obscure and mystical language in which _mukti_ is ever described.
One of the most quoted of the translations of the Life of Buddha, reaches
the English readers through devious ways, namely, from the Sanskrit into
Chinese, and from the Chinese into English, and again edited by an English
scientist who is also an Oriental scholar.
We must also consider the poverty of the English language when used to
describe supra-conscious experiences, or what modern thought terms
Metaphysics. Only within very recent times, approximating twenty-five
years, there have been coined innumerable words in the English language.
The advances made in mechanical, scientific, ethical and philosophical
thought, have made this a necessity, while, when it comes to an attempt at
clarifying the meaning of mystical terms, a very wide range of
interpretation is imperative.
Buddha, addressing his servant, says:
"Kandaka, take this gem and going back to where my father is, lay it
reverently before him, to signify my heart's relation to him."
It is related that the gem mentioned was a beryl, which in the language of
gems signifies purity and peace. It must be remembered that all Oriental
languages give power to gems, perfumes and talismanic symbols. This fact
makes direct translation of Oriental writings a difficult task for the
Occidental scholar, who, until recently at least, gave no power to
so-called "inanimate" things.
"And then for me request the king to stifle every fickle feeling of
affection, and say that I, to escape from birth and age and death, have
entered the forest of painful discipline.
"Not that I may get a heavenly birth, much less because I have no
tenderness of heart, or that I cherish any cause of bitterness, but Only
that I may escape this weight of sorrow; the accumulated long-night weight
of covetous desire. I now desire to ease the load, so that it may be
overthrown forever; therefore I seek the way of ultimate escape.
"If I should gain the way of emancipation, then shall I never need to put
away my kindred, to leave my home, to sever ties of love. O grieve not for
your son. The five desires of sense beget the sorrow; those held by lust
themselves induce sorrow; my very ancestors, victorious kings, have handed
down to me their kingly wealth; I, thinking only on eternal bliss, put it
all away."
The meaning here conveyed is simple enough to understand. From a long line
of ancestors who had ruled with the unquestioned authority of Oriental
monarchs, the young prince felt that he had inherited much that would
retard his soul's freedom. The examples of kings and emperors who have
abandoned their possessions have been too few to cause us to believe that
they have held these possessions as naught.
Through rivers of blood; through ages of despotism, and self-seeking, kings
and emperors have maintained their vested rights bequeathing to their
progeny the same desires; the same covetousness of worldly power; the same
consideration for the lesser self; the same hypnotism that takes account of
caste.
To escape from these fetters of the soul, into a realization of the Eternal
Oneness of life, was no easy task for the inheritor of such desires and
beliefs and appetites as an ancestry of rulers imposes.
And Prince Siddhartha was anxious to escape reincarnation--a theory or
conviction inseparable from Oriental religion.
His reference to "fickle affection" means literally that selfish affection
of the parent, which would retain the fleeting joy of a few short earthly
years of companionship, while the larger and more perfect love would bid
the child seek its birthright of godhood. The word "fickle" here would more
properly be translated transitory.
Buddha's desire to escape from a continuous round of deaths and
"leave-takings from kindred," does not necessarily imply an absorption into
The Absolute; it may as logically be interpreted to mean, that liberation
from the hypnotisms of externality _(mukti)_ insures the possession and
power of the gods--power over physical life and death, and this power need
not mean a cessation from individual consciousness, but rather, a full
realization of individual _unity_ with the sum of all consciousness.
There is another mistaken interpretation of the means of attainment of that
state of liberation, which has been alluded to in so many varied terms. The
fact that Buddha, like many of the Oriental Masters, sought the seclusion
of the forest; the isolation, and simplicity of the hermit,--has given rise
to the belief, almost universally held among Oriental disciples, that
liberation from _maya_, the delusions of the world, can not be attained
save by these methods.
Monasteries are the result of this idea, and this Buddhistic practice was
adopted by the first Christian church, since which time the real purpose
and intention of the monastery and the nunnery have become lost in the
concept of sacrifice or punishment. The Christian monk almost invariably
retires to a monastery, not for the purpose of consciously attaining to
that enlarged area of consciousness which insures liberation, _mukti_, but
as an "outward and visible sign" that he is willing to undergo the
sacrifice of worldly pleasures at the behest of the Lord Jesus. Thus, the
real object of retirement is lost, and the sacrifice again becomes in the
nature of a "bargain."
In the Bhagavad-Gita, we find these words:
"Renunciation and yoga by action both lead to the highest bliss; of the
two, yoga by action is verily better than renunciation of action. He who is
harmonized by yoga, the self-purified, self-ruled, the senses subdued,
whose self is the self of all beings, although _acting_, yet is such an one
not _affected_.
"He who acteth, placing all action in the _eternal_, abandoning attachment,
is unaffected by sin as a lotus leaf by the waters."
This is interpreted according to the viewpoint of the translator, even as,
among an audience of ten thousand persons, we may find almost as many
interpretations, and shades of meaning of a musical composition.
True, the Oriental meaning _seems_ to be the one that we shall cease to
love friends, relatives, and lovers, abandoning them as one would abandon
the furniture of one's household when outworn, and no longer of service.
We do not accept this interpretation.
To abandon one's friends, one's loved ones, yea, even one's would-be
enemies is equivalent to leaving one's companions on a sinking raft and,
without sentiment or remorse, save one's physical self from destruction.
No higher sentiment is known to struggling humanity than love of each
other. "Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for a
friend."
Oriental or Occidental philosophy, whichever may be presented to the mind,
as an unfailing guide, should be distrusted, if that philosophy prescribes
the abandonment of lover, friend, relative, neighbor, brother, companion.
That is, if we accept the dictionary meaning of the word "abandoned" as
translated into English.
A western avatar has said:
"I will not have what my brother can not," and in this we heartily concur,
not hesitating to say that until all human life shall accept and realize
the fullness of this message, we shall not, as a race, have attained to the
inheritance that is ours.
But shall we then believe, that the Oriental doctrine is erroneous? Not
necessarily.
Errors of interpretation are not only natural but inevitable, and this
interpretation of abandonment is in line with the idea of sacrifice (using
the word in its old sense of paying a debt), which prevailed throughout all
the centuries just passed--centuries in which the idea of God was estimated
by the conduct of the kings and monarchs of earth.
A later revelation or dispensation has given what the Illumined One said
was a "new commandment," and it is one more in accord with our ideals of
godhood.
"A new commandment I give unto you, that ye _love_ one another."
But love, like everything which _is_, means much or little, according as
the soul is advanced in knowledge, or is undeveloped.
Perfect and complete love is not selfish; it desires not possession, but
union. There is a world of difference between the two words.
"The soul enchained is man, and free from chain is God," said Sri
Ramakrishna.
And the soul is enchained by illusion--by mistaking the effect for the
cause, and by regarding the effect as the real, instead of realizing the
incompleteness; the limitedness; the unsatisfying character of the
changing--the external.
Not that the pursuit of the external is sinful, but it is unsatisfying,
while the soul that has caught a glimpse of that wonderful ecstasy of
Illumination, has found that which satisfies.
Upon this point of attainment of complete satisfaction, and certainty, all
who have experienced the consciousness we are considering seem to agree,
according to the testimony here submitted.