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The individual, the world, and God are the principle themes of all philosophical
studies, and even of mystical experiences. We have sufficiently inquired
into the nature of the human individual, its makeup and its constitutive
differences. We have discussed, to some extent, the process of the perception
of the world by the individual through the instrumentality of the senses
and the mind.
Even as the individual is a complex of various layers of experience, and there
are sheaths within sheaths—koshas within koshas—and
the human being is not exhausted merely by the physical body, so the world
is not exhausted by what we see with our eyes. Even as we are not as we appear
outwardly in terms of the body, the world is not what it appears to the eyes.
In the previous lecture, I mentioned that within the body there are the pranas,
the senses, the mind, the intellect, and such complicated layers which constitute
the individuality and personality of man. So is the world.
There are planes of existence, called lokas in Sanskrit—degrees
of reality—the lowest one being the earth, or the physical universe.
We cannot see anything beyond the physical realm because we live in a physical
body. The subject and the object are always on par with each other, as far
as their realities are concerned. Neither can we see what is within us, nor
can we see what is within the world. When we enter deep into our own selves
we also, in parallel, go deep into the counterpart of ourselves in the world
and begin to behold the inner layers of the cosmos. Just as we have the prana,
the senses, the mind and the intellect, etc., within us, there are the planes
of being, internally laid up within this physical cosmos. The physical universe
is not merely what we see with our eyes. Comparable to every layer within the
individual, there is a cosmic layer.
You must have heard of the well-known science of yoga, which makes out that
there are plexuses called chakras within the body, a thing very well
known in hatha yoga circles, tantric circles, and certain
other mystical circles of religious practice. It is very difficult to understand
what these chakras are. Most of us are confused as to what they could
be. They are pressures, or rather pressure centres, in the whole of our being,
not merely in some part of the body—pressure centres, upon which an impact
is felt, exerted by the counterpart of each centre at the cosmic level.
The physical universe presses upon the physical body. This is what is usually
called gravitation, in the language of science. The pressure of the world upon
us is gravitation; and the world presses upon us in every level of our being.
The different centres within the internal layers of our personality, which
receive this pressure from their own counterparts in the outer realms of being,
are known as the chakras. They are not wheels or lotuses, as we might
have sometimes been told in a humorous aesthetic manner by teachers. They cannot
be understood by an intellectual analysis, just as, for instance, we cannot
know what energy is by any amount of definition and description.
A chakra may at times be considered to be a whirl of energy, a circle—as
can sometimes be seen in a river that moves in a zigzag manner. There are circular
currents in rivers, sometimes even in the ocean, and if anyone is caught up
in these whirling currents, he would go deep in and would not be able to come
out. There are one or two centres like that in the Ganga. People who swim there
are cautious about these circular currents because if anyone goes near them,
he will be drawn in, and he will not come out. So, these currents of force
which take a shape or a form according to the desire potentialities of the
individual are actually the shapes which are assumed by the pressure from the
whole universe in its different planes.
What are these planes? We have seven centres—the muladhara, svadhishthana,
and so on. Corresponding to these chakras, or centres, which are all
well known to many hatha yoga students, there are the cosmic planes
outside. Actually, we should not say that they are outside, inasmuch as we
have already decided that the world is not outside us. We are involved in the
world, yet the world appears to be outside. As long as there is an insistence
on the part of our personality to regard the world as an external object, we
will be going on thinking that every plane of existence, also, is external;
so, even if we go to heaven and become angels there, that angelic world will
be external to the angels. Hence, one may be a denizen or an inhabitant of
any plane of existence, but the individuality will persist. Even Adam and Eve
had individualities, though they were in the Garden of Eden and very proximate
to God, the Supreme Creator.
Thus, individuality is an inscrutable something which cannot be identified
entirely with the physical body. Our individuality is not caused by the existence
of the physical body, and it will persist and remain even after death. The
existence of our individuality as a principle even after the shedding of the
physical body is the cause of rebirth. An individuality is self-sense, the
power by which we affirm our existence as an isolated, independent being. This
independence of ours is not a physical assertion, but a psychological affirmation—a
mix-up, an inscrutable, un-understandable, mysterious complex which individuality
is.
What is a human being? A human being is not necessarily the physical body.
No one will say that the human being is only the body. Is the human being a
mind? Even that would be difficult to accept. We cannot say that the human
being is only a mind and nothing else, because there is a body, also, and something
else may be there. Is the human being the spirit within? We cannot say that
the human being is only the spirit. Not the spirit, not the mind, not the body—what
else is man?
Man, the human individual, is a mixture of different aspects abstracted from
different levels of being, so that what we call the human individual, or any
individual for that matter, is a complex, like a chemical mixture, and is not
an indivisible whole. This explains the artificiality of human nature, which
is the reason why it is called transient and perpetually moving onward—restless,
and never satisfied with even a moment’s existence in one given condition.
We always move onward and onward, like a river that flows. Life is a river;
every individuality is, also, a river. It is a river because it cannot rest.
It must always pass beyond itself into the next higher stage. Restlessness
is the characteristic of the human individual, and of every atom in the universe.
This is the nature of every finite individual. Anything that is limited has
the character of overstepping the limitations of that finitude in the direction
of attaining limitlessness. Corresponding to the limited, finite centres within
us, there are the unlimited counterparts in the cosmos, the planes of existence.
Ordinarily, they are not visible to the eyes—as radio and television
waves are not visible to the naked eye, but they can be visible to a mechanism
which can catch them in its subtle inner makeup. The vibrations of the higher
realms of being cannot be felt by the gross body, and the celestial music cannot
be heard by the fleshy eardrum; yet, these planes exist.
The Puranas and the Epics recount the nature of these inner layers of the cosmos—what
the world is made of, internally. We say there is such a thing called evolution.
The rising up of the dimensions of personality from inanimate matter to the
vegetable kingdom, from there to the animal level, and to human nature, is
supposed to be indicative of a rise in the levels of dimension in experience.
Man, today, is sometimes prone to think that evolution has stopped with man.
This is why we say that man is made in the image of God, and everything is
well with man. But, it is not true. Everything is not well with man. He is
a very unhappy creature.
The unhappiness that characterises human nature is indicative of the fact that
evolution has not yet stopped. There is a further movement onwards to the higher
levels of being. We have been told again and again by such teachers as theosophists
that man has to become superman. In the West there were thinkers like Nietzsche
who, in their own way, started the doctrine of the superman, pointing out that
man, as he is today, is not complete. That is why he is unhappy.
But Nietzsche’s superman is different from the concept of the superman
of the East. It is not the self-affirming, egoistic superman of Nietzsche we
are thinking of and speaking about here, but the spiritual efflorescence of
the human individual to the larger expanse which is potential within him. The
superman is a transcendent man, and not an egoistic man. He is not a power-hungry
tyrant, but a spiritually evolved, divine personality who has overstepped the
limitations of humanity. That is why we call him a superhuman being—ati-manava, as
they call him.
Upanishads like the Taittiriya Upanishad and the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad tell
us that man aspires for higher states of knowledge, experience and happiness.
When a person sheds his body, he is reborn in a realm of existence where his
desires can be fulfilled. If the desires are very profane, turbid and tamasic, or
even extremely rajasic, there is a possibility of getting reborn in
this very world itself, or in a world which is similar to this world but more
purified in nature. If the tamas and the rajas are to some
extent subdued, and a ray of sattva has revealed its head, these persons
are reborn in Gandharvaloka, which is supposed to be the realm immediately
above the human level, which penetrates the physical realm but cannot be visible
to the physical eyes.
The realm of the angels, generally speaking, is the very same thing which the
Upanishad speaks of as Gandharvaloka, Pitriloka and Devaloka—the realms
of the demigods, the gods, the celestials, the angels, Indra, and the like,
where we are told that there is no old age, no hunger, no thirst, and no fatigue—not
even death—until the whole universe is absorbed into the Absolute. Such
is the joyous and delightful experience of the angels in heaven. These realms,
Gandharvaloka, Pitriloka and Devaloka, are sometimes referred to as Bhurloka,
Bhuvarloka and Svargaloka (if you cannot understand these Sanskrit terms you
can forget them)—the physical, the astral and the celestial realms. We
can, to some extent, understand what these super-physical levels—astral
and celestial—could be by a study of what the scriptures say about the
experiences of the angels there. But, there are realms above the celestial
level. The angels are not everything.
The Upanishads, the Puranas and the Epics tell us that there are seven planes
of existence, and so it is not that the degrees of manifestation of reality
end only with these three—the physical, astral, and celestial. The other lokas,
or the planes of being mentioned, are above Svargaloka, or the celestial realm.
Maharloka, Janarloka, Taparloka, Satyaloka—we cannot understand anything
about these things. We may become giddy by thinking too much about these wondrous
states of being which seem to be reigning supreme above even the realm of these
angels, where it is said there is no death, and nectar is their food. Anything
which a human being can aspire for is to be found in a celestial realm.
The greatest happiness that a human being can imagine is to be found in the
celestial realm; but, the highest happiness that man can think of is the poorest
compared to those realms which are transcendent even to the celestial realm.
Great adepts, yogis, mahapurushas, masters, incarnations, sages are
supposed to be living in these realms. The highest realm is called Brahmaloka,
identified with the realm of the Creator Himself, where individualities penetrate
each other.
In Plotinus’ great work called Leonards, the great mystic Alexandria
describes this interpenetration of individualities in the state of that Universal
vision. He does not call it Brahmaloka; his language is different, but the
explanation is equivalent to what we hear of in the Mahabharata and the Puranas.
Every individual enters into every other individual, as many mirrors facing
each other may reflect each other so that everything is everywhere. This is
Brahmaloka. One will find oneself everywhere, and everyone will find oneself
everywhere, so that to know one thing is to know all things, and to know all
things is to know any thing.
For us, descriptions of this kind make no sense. They are meaningless utterances,
because we are not expected to understand them with our poor, physical brains.
When we touch even the borderline of realms of this kind, we run into mad ecstasy.
We heard of devotees dancing in a state of super-consciousness, which we mistake
for unconsciousness, where they would not even be aware that they have a body
or even whether they are wearing clothing or not. Such mystical masters existed
even in the West, not merely in the East. These secrets are hidden within nature.
Even a little contemplation on the possibilities of such experiences will shut
our mouths forever. Such terrible magnificences are hidden in the bosom of
the universe.
They are within us, also. That is the reason why we can enter into their being,
experience them, and make them our own. As I mentioned just now, as we go deeper
and deeper within ourselves, we also, simultaneously, plumb deeper and deeper
into the depths of the cosmos. The movement or advance of the spirit further
and further is a parallel movement objectively as well as subjectively and,
therefore, there is no such thing as an individual’s meditation or a
private salvation of a person.
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