The Pilgrim Must Live on
the
Celestial World and, at the Same Time,
Educate Himself in Every Aspect of Life
Celestial World and, at the Same Time,
Educate Himself in Every Aspect of Life
Helena P.
Blavatsky
The seven-headed Hydra
of Greek legend, a symbol
of the selfishness, or spiritual ignorance, which has to
be defeated by Hercules, the candidate to Initiation
of the selfishness, or spiritual ignorance, which has to
be defeated by Hercules, the candidate to Initiation
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A 2023 Editorial Note:
If I were invited to choose the ten most
important articles among those written by
Helena Blavatsky, it is safe to say that
“The Great Paradox” would be on the list.
The text was first published at “Lucifer”
magazine [1], in London, in October 1887, pp.
120-122. Although it was not signed by H.P.B.,
there can be scarcely any doubt that it was written
by her. We reproduce it from “Collected Writings”,
H.P. Blavatsky T.P.H., USA, volume VIII, pages
125-129. We have compared it with the text at
“Lucifer” magazine, when necessary.
(Carlos Cardoso Aveline)
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Paradox would seem
to be the natural language of occultism. Nay more, it would seem to penetrate
deep into the heart of things, and thus to be inseparable from any attempt to
put into words the truth, the reality which underlies the outward shows of
life.
And the paradox is one not in words only, but in
action, in the very conduct of life. The paradoxes of occultism must be lived,
not uttered only. Herein lies a great danger, for it is only too easy to become
lost in the intellectual contemplation of the path, and so to forget that the
road can only be known by treading it.
One startling paradox meets the student at the very
outset, and confronts him in ever new and strange shapes at each turn of the
road. Such an one, perchance, has sought the path desiring a guide, a rule of
right for the conduct of his life. He learns that the alpha and the omega, the
beginning and the end of life is selflessness; and he feels the truth of
the saying that only in the profound unconsciousness of self-forgetfulness can
the truth and reality of being reveal itself to his eager heart.
The student learns that this is the one law of
occultism, at once the science and the art of living, the guide to the goal he
desires to attain. He is fired with enthusiasm and enters bravely on the
mountain track. He then finds that his teachers do not encourage his ardent
flights of sentiment; his all-forgetting yearning for the Infinite - on the
outer plane of his actual life and consciousness. At least, if they do not
actually damp his enthusiasm, they set him, as the first and indispensable task,
to conquer and control his body. The student finds that far from being
encouraged to live in the soaring thoughts of his brain, and to fancy he has
reached that ether where is true freedom - to the forgetting of his body, and
his external actions and personality - he is set down to tasks much nearer
earth. All his attention and watchfulness are required on the outer plane; he
must never forget himself, never lose hold over his body, his mind, his brain.
He must even learn to control the expression of every feature, to check the
action of each muscle, to be master of every slightest involuntary movement.
The daily life around and within him is pointed out as
the object of his study and observation. Instead of forgetting what are usually
called the petty trifles, the little forgetfulness, the accidental slips of
tongue or memory, he is forced to become each day more conscious of these
lapses, till at last they seem to poison the air he breathes and stifle him,
till he seems to lose sight and touch of the great world of freedom towards
which he is struggling, till every hour of every day seems full of the bitter
taste of self, and his heart grows sick with pain and the struggle of despair.
And the darkness is rendered yet deeper by the voice within him, crying
ceaselessly:
“Forget
thyself. Beware, lest thou becomest self-concentrated - and the giant weed of
spiritual selfishness take firm root in thy heart; beware, beware, beware!”
The voice stirs his heart to its depths, for he feels
that the words are true. His daily and hourly battle is teaching him that
self-centredness is the root of misery, the cause of pain, and his soul is full
of longing to be free.
Thus the disciple is torn by doubt. He trusts his
teachers, for he knows that through them speaks the same voice he hears in the
silence of his own heart. But now they utter contradictory words; the one, the
inner voice, bidding him forget himself utterly in the service of humanity; the
other, the spoken word of those from whom he seeks guidance in his service,
bidding him first to conquer his body, his outer self. And he knows better
with every hour how badly he acquits himself in that battle with the Hydra, and
he sees seven heads grow afresh in place of each one that he has lopped off.
At first he oscillates between the two, now obeying
the one, now the other. But soon he learns that this is fruitless. For the
sense of freedom and lightness, which comes at first when he leaves his outer
self unwatched, that he may seek the inner air, soon loses its keenness, and
some sudden shock reveals to him that he has slipped and fallen on the uphill
path. Then, in desperation, he flings himself upon the treacherous snake of
self, and strives to choke it into death; but its ever-moving coils elude his
grasp, the insidious temptations of its glittering scales blind his vision, and
again he becomes involved in the turmoil of the battle, which gains on him from
day to day, and which at last seems to fill the whole world, and blot out all
else beside from his consciousness. He is face to face with a crushing paradox,
the solution of which must be lived before it can be really understood.
In his hours of silent meditation the student will
find that there is one space of silence within him where he can find refuge
from thoughts and desires, from the turmoil of the senses and the delusions of
the mind. By sinking his consciousness deep into his heart he can reach this
place - at first only when he is alone in silence and darkness. But when the
need for the silence has grown great enough, he will turn to seek it even in
the midst of the struggle with self, and he will find it. Only he must not let
go of his outer self, or his body; he must learn to retire into this citadel
when the battle grows fierce, but to do so without losing sight of the battle;
without allowing himself to fancy that by so doing he has won the victory. That
victory is won only when all is silence without as within the inner citadel.
Fighting thus, from within that silence, the student will find that he has
solved the first great paradox.
But paradox still follows him. When first he thus
succeeds in thus retreating into himself, he seeks there only for refuge from
the storm in his heart. And as he struggles to control the gusts of passion and
desire, he realises more fully what mighty powers he has vowed himself to
conquer. He still feels himself, apart from the silence, nearer akin to the
forces of the storm. How can his puny strength cope with these tyrants of
animal nature?
This question is hard to answer in direct words; if,
indeed, such an answer can be given. But analogy may point the way where the
solution may be sought.
In breathing we take a certain quantity of air into
the lungs, and with this we can imitate in miniature the mighty wind of heaven.
We can produce a feeble semblance of nature: a tempest in a tea-cup, a gale to
blow and even swamp a paper boat. And we can say:
“I do this; it is my
breath.”
But we cannot blow our breath against a hurricane,
still less hold the trade winds in our lungs. Yet the powers of heaven are
within us; the nature of the intelligences which guide the world-force is
blended with our own, and could we realise this and forget our outer selves,
the very winds would be our instruments.
So it is in life. While a man clings to his outer self
- aye, and even to any one of the forms he assumes when this “mortal coil” is
cast aside - so long is he trying to blow aside a hurricane with the breath of
his lungs.
It is useless and idle such an endeavour; for the
great winds of life must, sooner or later, sweep him away. But if he changes
his altitude [2] in himself, if he acts on the faith that
his body, his desires, his passions, his brain, are not himself, though he has
charge of them, and is responsible for them; if he tries to deal with them as
parts of nature, then he may hope to become one with the great tides of being,
and reach the peaceful place of safe self-forgetfulness at last.
NOTES:
[1] The word “Lucifer” is a
pre-Christian, Latin term meaning “light-bringer”. It is also a name for the
planet Venus, the morning star. Since
the Middle Ages, the word has been grossly distorted by ill-advised
theologians. (CCA)
[2] “Changes his altitude”. In other words, elevates himself. (CCA)
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The article “The Great Paradox” was first published in the websites of the Independent Lodge of Theosophists in January 2014.
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Read more:
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In September 2016, after a careful analysis of the state of the esoteric movement worldwide, a group of students decided to form the Independent Lodge of Theosophists, whose priorities include the building of a better future in the different dimensions of life.
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Helena Blavatsky (photo) wrote these words: “Deserve, then desire”.
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