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.