Mind and Self

Mind and Self

You cannot be surprised that under these conditions of continued

disappearance of functions, the unfortunate student asks: " What

becomes of the mind itself? If you suppress all the functions,

what is left?" In the Indian way of teaching, when you come to a

difficulty, someone jumps up and asks a question. And in the

commentaries, the question which raises the difficulty is always

put. The answer of Patanjali is: "Then the spectator remains in

his own form." Theosophy answers: "The Monad remains." It is the

end of the human pilgrimage. That is the highest point to which

humanity may climb: to suppress all the reflections in the

fivefold universe through which the Monad has manifested his

powers, and then for the Monad to realise himself, enriched by

the experiences through which his manifested aspects have passed.

But to the Samkhyan the difficulty is very great, for when he has

only his spectator left, when spectacle ceases, the spectator

himself almost vanishes. His only function was to look on at the

play of mind. When the play of mind is gone, what is left? He can

no longer be a spectator, since there is nothing to see. The only

answer is: " He remains in his own form." He is now out of

manifestation, the duality is transcended, and so the Spirit

sinks back into latency, no longer capable of manifestation.

There you come to a very serious difference with the Theosophical

view of the universe, for according to that view of the universe,

when all these functions have been suppressed, then the Monad is

ruler over matter and is prepared for a new cycle of activity, no

longer slave but master.

All analogy shows us that as the Self withdraws from sheath after

sheath, he does not lose but gains in Self- realisation.

Self-realisation becomes more and more vivid with each successive

withdrawal; so that as the Self puts aside one veil of matter

after another, recognises in regular succession that each body in

turn is not himself, by that process of withdrawal his sense of

Self-reality becomes keener, not less keen. It is important to

remember that, because often Western readers, dealing with

Eastern ideas, in consequence of misunderstanding the meaning of

the state of liberation, or the condition of Nirvana, identify it

with nothingness or unconsciousness--an entirely mistaken idea

which is apt to colour the whole of their thought when dealing

with Yogic processes. Imagine the condition of a man who

identifies himself completely with the body, so that he cannot,

even in thought, separate himself from it--the state of the early

undeveloped man--and compare that with the strength, vigour and

lucidity of your own mental consciousness.

The consciousness of the early man limited to the physical body,

with occasional touches of dream consciousness, is very

restricted in its range. He has no idea of the sweep of your

consciousness, of your abstract thinking. But is that

consciousness of the early man more vivid, or less vivid, than

yours? Certainly you will say, it is less vivid. You have largely

transcended his powers of consciousness. Your consciousness is

astral rather than physical, but has thereby increased its

vividness. AS the Self withdraws himself from sheath after

sheath, he realises himself more and more, not less and less;

Self-realisation becomes more intense, as sheath after sheath is

cast aside. The centre grows more powerful as the circumference

becomes more permeable, and at last a stage is reached when the

centre knows itself at every point of the circumference. When

that is accomplished the circumference vanishes, but not so the

centre. The centre still remains. Just as you are more vividly

conscious than the early man, just as your consciousness is more

alive, not less, than that of an undeveloped man, so it is as we

climb up the stairway of life and cast away garment after

garment. We become more conscious of existence, more conscious of

knowledge, more conscious of Self-determined power. The faculties

of the Self shine out more strongly, as veil after veil falls

away. By analogy, then, when we touch the Monad, our

consciousness should be mightier, more vivid, and more perfect.

As you learn to truly live, your powers and feelings grow in

strength.

And remember that all control is exercised over sheaths, over

portions of the Not-Self. You do not control your Self; that is a

misconception; you control your Not-Self. The Self is never

controlled; He is the Inner Ruler Immortal. He is the controller,

not the controlled. As sheath after sheath becomes subject to

your Self, and body after body becomes the tool of your Self,

then shall you realise the truth of the saying of the Upanishad,

that you are the Self, the Inner Ruler, the immortal.