return

The Smiling Forehead By forehead is meant man’s expression. The smiling forehead is the pleasant expression; it depends solely upon man's attitude to life. Life is the same for the saint and for Satan, and if men are different it is because of their outlook on life. The same life is turned by the one into heaven and by the other into hell. There are two attitudes: to one all is wrong, to the other all is right. Our life in the world from morning to evening is full of experiences, good and bad, which can be distinguished according to their degree. And the more we study the mystery of good and bad the more we see that there really is no such thing as good and bad. It is because of our attitude and the conditions that things seem good or bad. It is easy for an ordinary person to say what is good or bad, just or unjust-it is very difficult for a wise man. Although everyone, according to his outlook on life, turns things from bad to good and from good to bad, everyone has his own grade of evolution and reasons accordingly. Sometimes one thing is subtler than others and then it is difficult to judge. There was a time when Wagner’s music was not understood, and another time when he was considered the greatest of musicians. Sometimes things are good, but our own evolution makes them less good for us. What we considered good a few years ago may not seem good at a later degree of evolution. At one time a child appreciates a doll most, later it will prefer the work of great sculptors. This proves that at every step and degree of evolution man's idea of good and bad changes. Therefore a thinker will understand that there is no such thing as right or wrong. If there is wrong, all is wrong; if there is right, all is right. No doubt there is a phase when man is a slave of what he has himself made right or wrong, and there is another phase in which he is master. This mastery comes from his realization of the fact that right and wrong are made by his own attitude to life, and then right and wrong, good and bad, will be his slaves, because he knows that it is in his power to turn the one into the other. It is this attitude that the ancient Sufis called mantiq. This opens the door to another mystery of life which shows that as there is duality in each thing so there is duality in every action: in everything that is just something unjust is hidden, in everything that is bad something good. Then one begins to see how the world takes all men's actions: one person sees only the good, another only the bad. In Sufi terms this particular attitude is called hairat, bewilderment. And just as to the average man moving pictures, theatres, bazaars are interesting, so to the Sufi the whole of life is interesting, a constant vision of bewilderment. He cannot explain this to the world because there are no words to explain it. Can one compare any joy to that of taking things quietly, patiently and easily? All other joys come from outward sources, but this happiness is one's own property. When a Person arrives at this feeling it expresses itself not in words, but in the “smiling forehead.” There is another side to this subject: man is pleased to see the one he loves, admires and respects, and if he frowns at someone it is because it is someone he does not admire or respect. Love is the divine essence in man and is due to God alone. Love for man is a lesson, it is a first step forward to the love of God. In human love one begins to see the way to divine love, as the lesson of domestic life is learned by a little girl playing with her dolls. One learns this lesson by loving one person, a friend, a beloved, a father, mother, brother, sister, or teacher, but the use of love becomes wrong when that love is constantly developing for one only and not spreading. The water of a pond may turn bad, but the water of a river remains pure because it is progressing. By sincerely loving one person therefore one rears the plant of love and makes it grow and spread. Love has done its work when man has become all love—his atmosphere, his expression, every movement he makes. And how can such a man love one and refuse another? Such a countenance, such a presence becomes a blessing. In the East, when we speak of saints or sages, it is not because of their miracles, it is because of their presence and their countenance, which radiate vibrations of love. How does this love express itself? In tolerance, in forgiveness, in respect, in overlooking the faults of others. Their sympathy covers the defects of others as if they were their own; they forget their own interest in the interest of others. They do not mind what conditions they are in; be they high or humble, their foreheads are smiling. To their eyes everyone is the expression of the Beloved, whose name they repeat. They see the divine in all forms and in all beings. Just as the religious person has a religious attitude in a temple, so the Sufi has that attitude before every being, for to him every being is the temple of the divine. Therefore the Sufi is always before his Lord. Whether a servant, a master, a friend, or a foe is before him, he is in the presence of God. For the one whose God is in the high heavens there is a vast gulf between him and God, but the one who has God always before him—he is always in God's presence, and there is no end to his happiness. The idea of the Sufi is that however religious a person may be, without love he is nothing. It is the same with one who has studied thousands of books; without love he has learned nothing. Love is not in a claim of love; when love is born one hears its voice louder than the voice of man. Love needs no words; they are too inadequate to express it. In what little way love can express itself, it is in what the Persians call “the laughing forehead.” The Heart Quality There are people who look at life through their brain, their head, and there are others who look at life through their heart. Between these two points of view there is a vast difference; so much difference that something that one person can see on the earth the other sees in heaven, something that one sees as small the other sees as great, of something that one sees as limited the other sees the unlimitedness. These two persons become opposite poles; it is as if one is looking at the sky, the other at the earth. No one will admit that he looks at things with his head; everyone will say, “I look at life with my heart.” If he knew what it is to look at life from the heart, the best person in the world would say, “I have not yet learned to look at life from the heart. I would like to know how to do it, I would like to learn it.” One might say that emotional and devotional people are flying in the clouds, while others with their reason and logic are standing on the earth. Yes, it is true. But angels ride on clouds; if the soul has the angelic quality the clouds are its sphere, not the earth. Now one may ask, “Where is the place for practicality in life?” Yes, but what one calls practical in everyday life and one is very careful about—what is it, how long does it last, what is it worth? No doubt it is true that man is born on earth to bear the weight of his physical body and with it its needs: a roof over his head and a piece of bread to sustain him. If that is all there is to think about, man makes a great mistake if he devotes all his life to what he calls practicality, practical life, and never thinks of the heavenly treasure that is hidden in the heart of man. The heart of man can be likened to water. Either it is frozen and then it is snow, or it is water and then it is liquid. When it is frozen it has turned into a crystal; when it is liquid it is in running order, and it is natural for water to be running. Then there are two principal kinds of water: salt water and sweet water. The sea which is quite contented in itself, indifferent to everything else, has salt water because it is independent of anything else. It gives health, happiness and pleasure to those who walk along it, because it represents perfection. It asks nothing from anyone, it rises and falls within itself, it is independent, it is immense. In that way it shows perfection. But with that independent perfection its water is not sweet, and the ascetic who has closed his heart, with the perfection of God and with the realization of truth is like the sea, independent, indifferent to all things. His presence heals people, his contact gives them joy, gives them peace, and yet his personality is uninteresting: the water of the sea is salt water. When the sea is calm it is a pleasure to travel on it, and when the sea is rough there is no worse illness than seasickness. So is the powerful mind, the mind of a soul that has touched perfection: it is with tranquillity, calmness and peace that this mind gives everyone a way into it, as the sea lays itself with open heart before those who Journey on it. Ships and boats pass through it, those who journey enjoy their travelling. But when the sea is disturbed by the wind, by storm, it is perfect in its annoyance, it can shake boats and steamers. And so the mind of the sage can have an effect upon all things in nature; it can cause volcanic eruptions, it can cause disasters, revolutions, all manner of things once its tranquillity is disturbed. Knowing this nature of the sage's heart and knowing the great powers that a man who has touched divine perfection possesses, people in the East regard closely the pleasure and displeasure of the sage. They think that to annoy a sage is like annoying the whole of nature, to disturb his tranquillity means to shake the whole universe. A storm in the sea is a very small thing, whereas the heart that has touched perfection, if once upset, can upset the whole universe. The water of the river is sweet. It is sweet because it is attracted to the sea, it is longing to reach the sea. The river represents the loving quality, a quality that is seeking for the object it loves. A heart that loves God and His perfection is likened to the river that seeks the sea. It is therefore that the personality of the seeker is more pleasant than the personality of the one who is contented with what he knows. There is little danger in travelling on the river, there is great joy in swimming in the river, and there is a fine scenery along it to look at. So it is with the personality which is like the river: that running of the feeling of sympathy, that continual running, means a living sympathy. The river helps the trees and plants and the earth along it. So does the kind, sympathetic person whose feeling is liquid: everywhere he goes he takes with him that influence which nourishes, which helps souls to flourish and to progress. Then one sometimes sees a little stream. It runs, it is not a river, it is a small little stream running, and it is even more beautiful to look at for it expresses modesty, it expresses fineness of character, it expresses purity. For always the water of a little stream is pure. It expresses the nature of an innocent heart, the heart that cannot be prevented from being sympathetic, from being loving, by any experience of the world which makes water turn bitter. The bitter experience has not touched it, and it is pure and clear. It inspires poets, it uplifts a composer, it quenches the thirst of the thirsty one, it is an ideal spot for a painter to paint. With its modesty it has purity and with its purity it has life. There is also the water of a little pool. It is sometimes muddy, sometimes dirty. Why? Because of its narrowness, because it is small. In the same way the narrowness of the heart has always mud in it. Because it is narrow and because it is not deep enough, all the elements of the earth enter it and take away its purity. Then there is the water of a large pool, where water-lilies grow, where little fishes swim, where the sun is reflected and the moonlight produces a beautiful vision, where one would like to sit and look at it because it expresses to everyone that sees it the liquid nature of the heart, the heart that is not frozen, the heart that is like water. It is still, it is calm, it can make one's heart tranquil to sit by its side. One can see one's reflection in it, for it is calm, it is tranquil. The water of the spring is most healing and most inspiring because it comes from above and falls on to the earth; that is the character of the inspirational mind. The heart that, like a spring, pours out water in the form of inspiration—be it in poetry, be it in music, in whatever form—has beauty, it has a healing quality, it can take away all the worries, anxieties, difficulties and troubles of those who come to it. Like the water of the spring it not only inspires but it heals. Then there is a fountain that rises and falls in so many drops. It is man-made as the personality also is man-made. When man has made a personality, then the feeling that rises from the heart through that personality is like the fountain: each drop falling from it comes in the form of a virtue. The water that rises from the sea towards the sky in the form of vapor represents the aspiration of the heart. The heart that aspires upward, that wishes to reach upward, that heart shows the quality of vapor. It is the heart of the devotee, of the seeker, the heart of the one who is always conscientiously seeking the higher ideal, touching the higher principles. In the form of clouds that heart of aspiration forms itself and pours down just like the rain, bringing celestial beauty in the form of art, poetry or music, or of anything that is good and beautiful. There are hearts that have been impregnated with fire for a long, long time; there comes a sulphury water from them, purifying and healing. The heart has gone through fire, it has gone through suffering and therefore it can heal those who suffer. There are hearts with many different qualities, like water may contain different chemical substances: those who have suffered, those who have gone through the test of patience, those who have contemplated. These hearts all represent one or the other kind of the water that heals and so do the personalities. Persons who have had deep experiences of any kind—of suffering, of agony, of love, of hate, of solitude, of association, of success, of failure—all have a particular quality, a quality which has a particular use for others. Knowing this we will come to this conclusion: “Whatever has been my life's destiny, my heart through sorrow or pain, through joy or pleasure, has prepared a chemical substance that serves a certain purpose for humanity. And I can only give that chemical substance for the use of humanity if I can keep my heart awake and open.” Once the heart is closed, once it is frozen, once it has turned from a warm heart into a stone, the person is no longer living. It does not matter what he has gone through, for even the worst poison can be of some use. There is no person therefore, however wicked, who is of no use, if only he knows that there is one condition for being useful to humanity, and that is to keep the heart open. Now coming to spiritual attainment: this is something that we can never absorb through the head; it can only be received through the heart. Let two persons listen to the teachings of a teacher, one with his heart and the other with his head. The latter will think, “Is it so, or is it not so? And how is it, if it is so? How can it be, and if it is, why is it?” And there is never an end to the “why.” The other person will listen with his heart; both logic and reason are at his disposal, but they do not trouble him. His heart is open, he listens to it and the quality of the heart is such that whatever falls upon an open heart becomes instantly revealed. When one says, “I cannot understand you” it is just like saying, “I have closed my heart to you”; there is no other reason for not understanding. And when one says, I have understood it all” it means the heart was open; that is why one has understood. Understanding, therefore, does not depend upon the head, it depends upon the heart. By the help of the head one can make things more clear, they become intelligible, one can express them better, but understanding must begin to come from the heart, not from the head. Besides, with his head a person says, “Yes, it must be so because I think so, but with his heart he says, “it is so because I believe it to be so.” That is the difference: in one person there is doubt, in the other conviction. In an Eastern language there is a word which is very difficult to translate: iman. It is not exactly faith or belief—the nearest word one can find for it is conviction, a conviction that cannot be changed by anything, a conviction that does not come from outside. One always seeks for conviction, one asks, “Will anybody convince me, will this thing convince me?” Nothing convinces, nobody convinces. Conviction is something that comes from one's own heart and it stands above faith and belief, for belief is the beginning of the same thing of which faith is the development and conviction the culmination. What is spiritual attainment? Spiritual attainment is conviction. A man may think, “Perhaps it is so”; he may think about the best doctrine or about the highest idea that there is, and he will think, “it is so—perhaps.” But there is ‘perhaps’ attached to it. Then there is another person who cannot use the word ‘perhaps’ because he does not think about it; he cannot say, “It may be so” when he knows that it is so. When a person arrives at the stage where the knowledge of reality becomes his conviction, then there is nothing in the world that will change it. If there is anything to attain to, it is that conviction which one can never find in the world outside; it must rise from the depth of one's own heart. The scientists say that the body is formed around the heart; from the mystical point of view it is symbolical that the personality is formed around the heart. For a materialist the heart is a piece of flesh hidden in the breast; for the mystic the heart is the center around which the personality is formed. Consciously or unconsciously man loves to hear the word “heart” and if we asked a poet to leave the word “heart” out of his poems he would never succeed to satisfy himself or others. Few people think about it and yet almost all poets who have appealed to humanity have used the word “heart” most. For what is man? Man is his heart. And what is heart? Heart is man: a dead heart—a dead man, a living heart—a living man. People look for phenomena, for something wonderful, something surprising, something that amuses them. If only they knew that the greatest surprise and wonder can be found in their own heart. If there is anything that can tune man to a higher pitch or to a lower pitch, that can loosen the strings of his soul or tune them to the right note—it can only be done by the tuning of the heart. The one who has not reached his heart cannot reach God, and the one who has not reached the heart of his fellowman has not reached him. People may become friends, they may become acquaintances, relations, they may become connected through industry, political friendship, partnership in business or any collaboration, and yet they may be separated. Nearness in space does not bring the nearness of real friendship. There is only one way of coming near to one another and that is by way of the heart. If there is anything most wonderful in heaven or on earth it is the heart. If there is anywhere a phenomenon, a miracle to be found it is in the heart. When God Himself is to be found in the heart what else is there that is not in it? As the Nizam of Hyderabad, the mystic poet,' said, “They speak of the largeness of the sea, the largeness of the ocean, the largeness of the land-if only they knew how large is the heart that accommodates them all!” The greatness of man, the smallness of man does not depend upon outer things. Be he rich or poor, whatever be his position in life, whatever his rank, if his heart is not great he cannot be great. And no matter what be his circumstances, if the heart is still great it remains great. It is the heart that makes man great or small. One may see hearts of different qualities: there is a golden heart, a silver heart, a copper heart and there is an iron heart. The golden heart shows its color and its beauty; it is precious and at the same time it is soft. The silver heart shows itself inferior compared to the golden heart; yet it is of silver that the current coins are made, so it is useful. There is the heart of copper of which pennies are made, and pennies are useful in everyday life; one has to use them more than gold and silver. Copper is hard and strong; it needs many hammerings to bend and shape it, to make something out of it. And then there is the iron heart which must be put into the fire before one can do anything with it. When in the glowing fire the iron has become hot then one can make something out of it. But how long does the heat of the fire last with it? A very short time! The blacksmith must be always ready; as soon as the fire begins to glow he must make something of it, for if he lets the moment go the iron will turn cold. Besides these different aspects there is a heart of rock, and there is a heart of wax. The heart of rock must be broken, it must be cut in order to make something out of it; nothing reaches it, cold or heat, sun or water have little effect upon it. The heart of wax melts as soon as it is heated. You can shape it without breaking it; it is soft, you can turn it any way you like. There is also the heart of paper you make a kite with. It flies and goes up; if the wind is in the north it goes to the north, if the wind is in the south it goes to the south. You can control it as long as the wind does not blow it out of your hands and as long as the wind is strong enough to hold it in the sky. But when there is no more wind it will drop down, and so you will try it again-like a kite. Are these sufficient examples for the heart of man? There are numberless hearts, each different in quality, and once we begin to look at them and to distinguish their peculiarities and qualities we begin to see a living phenomenon, a miracle, every moment of our life. Is there anything we can compare the heart with? It is something that dies and then lives again, something that is torn and can be mended again, something that can be broken and be made whole again, something that can rise and something that can fall, and after falling can rise again, and after rising can fall instantly if it was to fall. There is a heart that can creep and a heart that can walk; there is a heart that can run and a heart that can fly. We cannot limit the various actions of the heart. Imagine how the heart can be illuminated in a moment and how it can be darkened in a moment, how the heart becomes a maze for us to enter without ever being able to get out again, how it can become confusion and how it can become paradise. If one asked: Where is the soul? Where can we see the soul manifest to view? Where is paradise? Where is heaven? Where is joy and pleasure? If one asked: Where is love? Where is God? We can answer each of these questions by saying: it is in the heart. imagine how wonderful and at the same time how obscure to our view! If we call the heart the spark of fire then we can see its different aspects: as sympathy in the form of heat, as longing in the form of fire, as affection in the form of glow, as devotion in the form of flame, as passion in the form of smoke that blinds the eyes. That which gives courage to stand firm in the battlefield, that which enables man to struggle throughout his life, that which gives him the strength to endure all that comes and strengthens him to have patience—what is it? It is the heart. If the heart fails, man falls, if the heart rises, man rises. When the heart is directed towards one ideal, one object, one point, it develops, but when the heart goes from one point to another it is weakened, for then the fire element of the heart dies. For instance, a little spark can be brought to a blaze if one blows upon it, but the flame is put out by the wind. Why? Because blowing directs the air to one single spark, but the wind goes all around it and extinguishes the flame. When man begins to say, “I love everybody” you can be sure he loves nobody. But when he says, “I love my mother, my father, my son, my daughter, my friend, or my beloved'—then you can believe that he has taken his first step on the path of love. Can anyone in the world claim love and at the same time know love? The moment one knows what love is one loses the claim. One can only say, “love” as long as one does not know what it is. Before saying, “love” one must first show it by jumping into the fire. As A Minai, the great Hindustani poet, says, “Your first initiation in the order of lovers is to become nothing.” And another poet says, “Oh love! You have taught me that lesson first which many others learn at the end.” When a person says, “If you will be good to me, I will be good to you; if you will be kind to me, I will be kind to you; if you will be nice to me, I will be nice to you; “if you will respect me, I will honor you”—it is like saying, “If you will give me ninepence, I will give you a shilling' it is business. When a person says, “I wish there was somebody who loved me, a friend, someone!” he is very mistaken. He will never be loved; he may wait for eternity. Love never asks love of someone else; love is more independent than anything else. It is love which makes one independent. There is love that is like an infant. It must be taken in the arms, it cannot stand; if it is not taken in the arms it cries. It is not mature, it is not developed, it is not yet love. There is love which is like a wobbling child that has not yet learned to walk. It likes to walk but it likes to hold the cupboard, the chair, the table, someone else, in order to go so far. That love too is undeveloped. Then there is love that stands on its own feet and walks by itself. That is independent love, and you can depend upon it. Love shows its quality by constancy. Where there is no constancy there is no love. People have wrongly understood the meaning of love; very often they do not know it. The real meaning of love is life itself, the feeling of life, the feeling: I live. That feeling itself is love. So what is love? Love is God. And what is God? God is love. As long as one is involved in selfish thoughts and actions in life one does not understand the meaning of love. Love is sacrifice, love is service, love is regard for the pleasure and displeasure of the beloved. That love, once it is understood, can be seen in all the different aspects of life: love for those who depend upon one, for those with whom one comes in contact in one's everyday life, love for those of one's country, of one's race, for humanity. It can expand even to such an extent that there can be love for every little creature in the world, for the smallest insect. This expansion is like a drop of water expanding into an ocean. Man—limited as he is—the more he sympathizes the more he expands and the further he reaches heavenward: thus he can become as great as the Absolute. Therefore, instead of teaching the lesson of indifference, as many mystics have done, the Sufis have learned the lesson of love, of devotion, of sympathy, and have called it the cultivation of the heart. It is known by the word suluk, which means the loving manner. What we call refined manner is only a manner behind which there is no life. When manner is directed by the heart quality then it becomes living manner, the manner that comes from love, and all such attributes as kindness, gentleness, tolerance, forgiveness, mercy and compassion —they all spring from this loving manner. The great teachers and prophets, and the inspirers of humanity of all times have not become what they were by their miracles or wonder-workings; these belong to other people. The main thing that could be seen in them was their loving manner. Read the lives of the prophets. First of all see the way Jesus Christ had with all those who came to him. When sinners who were condemned and expelled by society were brought to the master, he received them with compassion. He was not on the side of those who accused them, he was on the side of the accused. That was loving manner. The fishermen could never understand the master-even the most educated men would not have understood him, let alone the fishermen. Yet the master lived with them, moved with them and won their hearts in the end. That is loving manner. Think of the Prophet whose beloved daughter was killed by an Arab, and when this man was brought before him and said, “will you forgive me?” the Prophet forgave him. When his worst enemies were brought before him in rows, arrested, waiting his command, he was king, conqueror and judge, the one who could do anything he liked to them. When they asked, “What are you going to do with us, Prophet?” he said, “You are my brothers. God may forgive you. I pray for you.” The compassion of Buddha went to every living creature, to the smallest insect; this shows the expansion of his love. Remember therefore that for higher attainment on the spiritual path study is secondary; all knowledge of occult and psychic law, all magical powers, are secondary. The first and most important principle is the cultivation of the heart quality. One may ask: How to cultivate the heart quality? There is only one way: to become selfless at each step one takes forward on this path, for what prevents one from cultivating the loving quality is the thought of self. The more we think of our self the less we think of others, and as we go further the self grows to become worse and worse. In the end the self meets us as a giant which we had always fought; and now at the end of the journey the giant is the stronger. But if from the first step we take on the path of perfection we struggled and fought and conquered this giant which is the self, it could be done only by the increasing power of love. What do I mean by love? It is such a word that one cannot give one meaning. All attributes like kindness, gentleness, goodness, humbleness, mildness, fineness, are names of one and the same thing. Love therefore is that stream which when it rises falls in the form of a fountain, and each stream coming down is a virtue. All virtues taught by books or by a religious person have no strength and life because they have been learned; a virtue that is learned has no power, no life. The virtue that naturally springs from the depth of the heart, the virtue that rises from the love-spring and then falls as many different attributes, that virtue is real. There is a Hindustani saying, “No matter how much wealth you have, if you do not have the treasure of virtue, it is of no use.” The true riches is the ever increasing spring of love from which all virtues come. The Heart—Aphorisms The length of his heart man shows by his tolerance. The width of his heart man shows by his endurance. The height of his heart man shows by his power of understanding. The depth of his heart man shows by the capacity of assimilating all. The heart of man is the shrine of God. Take care when you touch it lest you may hurt the Unseen Dweller within. Never hurt human feelings in thought, word or deed. The human heart is so delicate; it is like a fine tissue. Once there is a tear in the tissue you can repair it-yet the tear remains. And so it is with the human heart; once there is a tear in it, it can never be healed. When God's divine love rises as a wave, it washes away the sins of the whole life in a moment, for law has no power to stand before love: the stream of love sweeps it away. When we find faults and see no excuse, we are blind to the light which can free a person from his faults and give rise to that forgiveness which is the very essence of God-to be found in the human heart. The very thought of the love of God fills the heart with joy and makes it light of its burden. The heart in its depth is linked up with the divine Mind; so in the depth of the heart there is greater Justice than on the surface. The brain may be said to be the seat of the intelligence and the heart to be the throne of wisdom. As the heart expands so the horizon becomes wider, and one finds greater and greater scope in which to build the kingdom of God. Man's heart is like a piece of ground; you may sow anything in it and rear it. When the fruit comes, then man knows whether it was a sweet fruit or a poison. The heart, when it is not living and making its life a life of love, feels out of place, and all the discomfort of life comes from this. My respondent heart be still-be still and listen to the consoling voice of God. The Path of Devotion There are four paths by which man can attain to his highest goal. One is for the intellectual, the intelligent. By studying himself and the world, by understanding what he is, whence he has come and where he will ultimately go, man attains to perfection. The second path is the way of abstinence. Those who follow this way detach themselves from all things in life; they renounce all the pleasures and comforts of life. They have no friendship, no attachment for anyone; they withstand all natural tendencies and inclinations. Those who have been in India may have seen some followers of this path, sometimes among the crowd, their body covered with ashes, sometimes in the solitude remote from all: by this their psychic power becomes very great. The third way is that of those who live the life of the world and by their righteousness, by their piety become as a saint, a sage. The fourth way is the path of love, of devotion. The whole universe has been made through love. The intelligence itself in the next step towards evolution has become love. It is love that has directed the Intelligence; if not, the Intelligence would be spread all over, not directed in any direction in particular. All that is done in the world is done by love. One could not study the flower on the mantelpiece if love did not direct the intelligence towards the flower, to admire it and to know what it is. Therefore the mystics have understood that this power of love that has brought all into manifestation must be able to lead back from the seen world to the unseen. Love is the sign of intelligence. Where there is no intelligence there is no love. Rocks have no intelligence and there is no love in them. Plants and trees have awakened to life and show some attachment. If we have a plant and care for it, it will respond to our care and flourish. Animals have more intelligence and show much affection and attachment. Pet animals in the house grow to have much affection and sympathy for their master; they are happy in his joy and become sad in his sorrow. Horses too show much affection. It is told that the horse of an Arab who had been wounded in battle stayed beside him for three days and nights, until his comrades came and rescued him. Man has the most intelligence, and he has the most love in his nature. Someone may say, “But animals are cruel also.” So is man. Is man not far more cruel than the animals? There are three sorts of mystics: Yogis, Buddhists and Sufis, and most of these have chosen the path of devotion, because it has beauty and gives a satisfaction that nothing else can give. Sufis may take the way of renunciation, the way of wisdom, but most of them have especially chosen this path of devotion. Devotion is like fire, it has a magnetism, a warmth like fire. When the atmosphere is so cold that our body is chilled, we like to turn to the fire and draw near to it. In this cold world where nothing but cold and selfish hearts are all about us, each person caring only for himself, where there is a heart that has love in it, it has such a warmth, such a radiance that all are drawn to it, all want to be near it. He who works through the intellect may have a little intellectual attraction satisfying the desire of the mind for a little explanation of things. I have traveled for eight years all over India and have been in remote and inaccessible places where there was danger of robbers. I traveled to see the sages and mystics, and I have seen what charm had the atmosphere of those who were devotees, what fragrance had their presence. We all know love to some small extent. There are many who have begun to love and then say, “I loved someone, but the one I loved did not prove to be my idea).” They are disappointed, they cast love aside and by doing so they cast aside the only thing that could lead them towards God, they break off the bridge that could unite them with God. Love is the only thing that takes away the selfishness which is the only barrier between man and God. Love alone illuminates the heart. The heart is in the center of the being. When it is illumined the whole being becomes light; when it is dark the whole being is in darkness. The soul has its light, because the soul is light, but it cannot give its light to the external being if the heart that is between them is darkened, nor can the body give its experiences to the soul. Then there are disappointed people who say, “There is nothing on earth worth loving.” Of course it is true because the soul which is from God is perfect as He is perfect and seeks perfection. Man does not wish to prove himself perfect, but he seeks perfection in another. That perfection is only in God, the Unlimited, but man seeks it in the human being, in the limited being full of faults and imperfections. Now you may ask, “How can we love God whom we do not see, whom we have never known?” You cannot love God only because it has been said in ancient times that there is a God and that we should love Him, or because it is written in a book. If someone says that you should love God because he is the Creator, you cannot praise Him as Creator; for we have always seen that the piano is created by the piano manufacturer and Pears' soap is created by Mr. Pears, and we know that the carpenter creates the chair and the table. A person once said to me, “I have a horror of the idea of God. When I think that God may suddenly seize me and call me to account for everything I have done, I have a horror. I have quite enough to interest me here. I do not want to think of God.” I was rather amused and I could not blame him. The mistake is that the ideal of God is given before idealism is developed. A child wishes to give its doll a piano, a chair, a table, all kinds of things, and so much ado is made about the doll. When the child has grown up it has perhaps forgotten the doll. If the child has accomplished anything by this, if it has achieved anything in life, it is that idealism has been learned. One should have the ideal of devotion which one admires, to which one aspires, which appeals to one's own degree of evolution. If a person wishes to raise himself, to be powerful in the world, he should think of President Wilson who has raised himself from the position of a doctor to be President of the United States. If he wishes to be great in politics he should think of the Prime Minister who has raised himself from his small position to be Prime Minister. We cannot love God in heaven if we do not love man on earth. Christ taught first love of our fellow-man. Enemies apart, to love our fellow-man is the first thing necessary. Those who take this way have devotion and love for the Murshid, or they may love a teacher, or a hero, a saint, a prophet, and that love must be kept. If you say, “I have love for Buddha, but he did not believe in the soul and I do not like that—and he did this and that” such is not love or devotion. Keep the devotion for the ideal—with his disbelief in the soul and all! From this man rises to the degree of fana-fi-rasul, devotion for the unseen ideal, for the holiness, the goodness, the kindness of the being whom he has not seen. It is your idealization which produces in you the ideal. Buddha's body is lost in the earth long ago. You have made the Buddha. But all this is idolatry as long as there is not the ideal of God. As long as there is devotion for the limited ideal there is idolatry and as long as man has not broken away from idolatry to the unlimited ideal, he has not reached his highest goal. The ideal has attracted, has drawn out your love by his holiness, his goodness, his saintliness, but then love itself springs forth and is for the Unlimited. Then a person will not say, “I have seen injustice in God, I have seen unkindness in God.” He sees and loves Him with His kindness and unkindness, His power and Justice and might, with all and everything and nothing. When that is reached then this highest goal of attainment is reached; then man is perfect. Love Answers to Questions—Aphorisms To an angelic soul love means glorification To a jinn soul love means admiration To a human soul love means affection To an animal soul love means passion. One need not fall in love, one must rise through love. Pour out floods of love, yet keeping your garment of detachment from being wet. Question: Can love exceed wisdom or can wisdom exceed love? What happens in either case? Is love measured according to love, or is wisdom measured according to love? Answer: It is true that wise is loving and loving is truly wise, although in one person wisdom may be predominant and in another love. But both love and wisdom are needed. The cold-hearted man is never wise, and the really warm-hearted person is never foolish. Yet both these qualities, love and wisdom, are distinct and separate, and it is possible that a person may be loving but lacking wisdom, and it happens that a person who is wise may be lacking love to some extent. But no one can be wise if love is absent from his heart-call him clever. And no one will be truly loving if wisdom has not illuminated his heart, for love comes from wisdom and wisdom comes from love. It is very difficult to say what love is and how one can love. Is it embracing people and running after them and saying sweet words to them? What could one show when one is loving?—for every person has a different way of expressing his love. One person perhaps has love hidden in his heart which does not manifest, and another person's love comes out in his words and actions. The love of one person rises like vapor and charges the whole atmosphere, and another person's love is like a spark hidden in a stone: outside the stone is cold, inside there is a spark. Therefore to judge who has love and who has not is not in the power of every person, it is a very difficult thing. For instance love is a fire rising from a cracker calling out, “I am love!” but it burns out and is finished. There is also fire in the pebble which never manifests. If you hold the pebble it feels cold, yet at the same time the fire is there. Some day you can strike it and it is there, it is dependable, it lasts. As many people as there are, so many are the different qualities of their love, and one cannot judge. Question: Is jealousy inseparable from human love? Answer: It is like asking, “Is the shadow separable from the body?” Where there is form there is shadow; where there is human love there is Jealousy. Love can bring out what is worst and best in man. Love can take many forms, even that of indifference. I remember I went once for a relative to the house of a physician, an Indian physician who had a very ancient method of writing his prescriptions. Each took him nearly ten minutes. I was shown into a small room where fifteen to twenty people were already waiting, and I sat down among them. He continued to write prescriptions for all who came, and when he had finished with those who were before me he began to write prescriptions for those who had come after me. I had thought that the physician, as a friend of the family, would have seen me first, but he went on until he had seen everyone, and I was the last. Finally he said to me, “Now tell me what you have to say.” I told him, and he wrote out the prescription without any haste, and when I was leaving he said, “I hope you understand that I did not want to see you while all the other patients were still there. I wanted to see you at leisure.” He was doing me a favor, and though he tried my patience it was still a majestic sort of favor, It gave me a good example of love in the form of indifference. With indifference one still must have sympathy and love-be more and more sensitive as one evolves. The Story of Hatim The life of Hatim is written by the Persians and many stories are told about him. One of these stories is best known by the people in the East. It tells that a princess who was much renowned for her beauty and greatness had made as a condition for those who loved her and desired her hand that only the one who brought her a certain pearl which she longed to possess would marry her. There was one lover of the princess who really loved her, but did not find the way to obtain that pearl from anywhere. The work of Hatim was to roam about from country to country and to do what he could for those who needed his services. He met this lover who, roaming about, was most unhappy because he could not find the pearl. Hatim consoled him and said, “Continue in your path of love, even if it be difficult, and remember that I shall not rest until I have brought relief to your heart by bringing you the pearl you are longing for.” Hatim then went in pursuit of the pearl and the story tells what difficulties he had in obtaining it. When at last he got it he brought it to the palace, and the princess was won by that pearl. When she consented to accept Hatim as her lover, he then said that this promise should be granted to his friend, who was really her lover, while Hatim was the lover of those who were in need. In this story the princess is God, and the pearl that she wanted is the knowledge of God. There was a lover of God, but he would not go and take the trouble one has to take to obtain this knowledge. Someone else was ready; his work was to take this trouble to go to the depth—even if it was not for himself but for another—to get the knowledge and to give it to the one who had the love to have it. This story also explains us that there are two stages of workers. The first stage is that of the one who works for himself—the higher stage of working is to work for others. The one who rises above the stage of working for himself comes to the stage of working for others, bringing in their lives the blessing which is the need of their lives. To what does the love of God lead? It leads to that peace and stillness which can be seen in the life of the tree which flowers and bears fruit for others and expects no return. Peace will not come to the lover's heart so long as he will not become love itself. Question: Why is it that with the growing of love difficulties arise from all sides? Is it not said by the ancients that God is a jealous God? Answer: This is but a saying; God can never be jealous of His own manifestation. Only before love began one was unconsciously linked with the source alone, but once love has awakened on the physical plane, one is attached to someone on earth. It is like Adam and Eve being exiled from the garden of Eden. This naturally causes every influence to work against that love. Even the throne of God is shaken by love's outburst, because by a sincere link on earth which is power itself every other influence is automatically pulled and pushed, causing thereby a commotion in the world of hearts. The soul of man is happiness; yet man is never happy since he is occupied with this world of woes. It is only love that can bring about that happiness of which is spoken in legends, which is beyond all pleasures of this mortal world. Those who consciously or unconsciously see or feel that happiness experienced by the lover and the beloved, naturally either knowingly or unknowingly react against it. Spiritual love is nectar, but as soon as it is mixed with matter, it becomes a sweet wine mixed with a bitter poison. If we give ourselves up to the absorbing love of any being, any thing, God becomes jealous and He takes that being from us. Therefore Abraham was called upon to sacrifice his son. This lesson was given: God does not allow another affection to be dearer than His love. If we love our children because they are ours and other children are neglected, God says to us, “These are the beings whom We have given you to love, to take care of them for Us, not to cherish them for yourselves.” He takes from us whatever we love most forgetting Him, in order to show us that He is the Lord of the Jalal, Jamal and Kemal The love of all beings lasts for a season, but it is His love that is always with us, in all forms and beings. No creature that has ever been born has belonged in reality to any other. Every soul is the beloved of God. Does not God love as we human beings cannot? The Maharajah of Jaipur, Ram Singh, was a great lover of music. At his court were marvelous singers and dancers, they were like the Apsaras and Ghandarvas. From all India beautiful singers and dancers were called there; all the great musicians of India were there, also my grandfather Manula Bakhsh. The Maharajah did not know the secret of holding his wish. If he had known it he might have kept his happiness much longer. But he did not know it, and when everything was perfect he died. That is why in the East there is a superstition that, if any thing or being belonging to us is much praised or admired, that thing or that person will soon be lost to us. Therefore if someone says, “Your child is very pretty the parents will say, No, he is not pretty, he is a plain child.” And if the child is fair they make a black mark upon its face, so that it would not be perfectly fair. Life provides you with a substitute for all you have lost. Love is the fire that burns all infirmities. Question: How do we see the love of God in the book of nature? We see all around us fruits and plants and animal life brought to fruition and then to destruction, and among men cruelty, misery, tragedies and enmities everywhere. In the Hindu Pantheon these are singers and dancers at the Court of Indra. Answer: It is a difference of focus. If we focus our mind upon all that is good and beautiful we shall see—in spite of all the ugliness that exists in nature and especially more pronounced in human nature—that the ugliness will cover itself. We will spread a cover over it and see all that is beautiful, and to whatever lacks beauty we will be able to add, taking it from all that is beautiful in our heart where beauty has sufficiently been collected. But if we focus our mind upon all the ugliness that exists in nature—and in human nature—there will be much of it. It will take up all our attention and there will come a time when we shall not be able to see any good anywhere. We shall see all cruelty, ugliness, wickedness and unkindness everywhere. Question: In focusing our mind on beauty alone, is there not a danger of shutting our eyes to the ugliness and suffering we might alleviate?Answer: In order to help the poor we ought to be rich, and in order to take away the badness of a person we ought to be so much more good. That goodness must be earned, as money is earned. That earning of goodness is collecting goodness wherever we find it, and if we do not focus on goodness we will not be able to collect it sufficiently. What happens is that man becomes agitated by all the absence of goodness he sees? Being himself poor he cannot add to it, and unconsciously he develops in his own nature what he sees. He thinks, “Oh poor person! I should so much like you to be good but that does not help that person. His looking at the badness, his agitation, only adds one more wicked person to the lot. When one has focused one's eyes on goodness one will add to beauty, but when a man's eyes are focused on what is bad he will collect enough wickedness for him to be added himself to the number of the wicked in the end, for he receives the same impression. Besides, by criticizing, by judging, by looking at wickedness with contempt, one does not help the wicked or the stupid person. The one who helps is he who is ready to overlook, who is ready to forgive, to tolerate, to take disadvantages he may have to meet with patiently. It is he who can help. A person who is able to help others should not hide himself but do his best to come out into the world. “Raise up your light high” it is said. All that is in you should be brought out, and if the conditions hinder you, break through the conditions! That is the strength of life. You are love—you come from love—you are made by love-you cannot cease to love. Question: Is it a great lack in character when a person cannot give the love which friends require? When one receives love and is not able to return it, when one forgets one's friends being absorbed in one's work and occupation? Answer: The question is: what work or occupation? There are works and occupations of a higher character, which take one's whole attention, one's life. Such works may require renunciation and sacrifice. Then one does not become loveless; there is a duty of which one cannot be regardless. However if one can manage to give and take love at the same time, it is preferable. Question: Will a person suffer one day through inability to love-merely giving a cold affection?Answer: Love, whether hot or cold, is love. Question: Is there cold love?Answer: Since God is love the whole manifestation is love, the cold water and the hot fire. Question: By which power does man attract his food and all he needs?Answer: If there is any mighty power, it is the power of love. All that one desires comes from love. Even if one desires food, it is the love of food, and it is according to the power of his love that man will attract it. The question is only: what does he love most? Does he love something more than the ordinary things of life, then that must be his aim. Hunger is an aspect of love. Love of the heart is what we call affection. Love of territory has caused many deaths. What man loves he must get. All words as seeking, wanting, requiring, searching, are words for loving. Love is the root of the whole phenomenon of life. Even if a poor man does not find his food, you will see that there is something else he loves more. God is love and in Him I have my being-and I have no fear. Let my intelligence shine out as love; let my limited self expand to Thy divine perfection. The Difference between Will, Wish and Desire Will is the development of the wish. When one says, “It was the divine will” it means that it was a command, a wish that developed into action. When the wish becomes action it becomes will, it becomes a command. One may think it is only one's wish, but it is a wish as long as it is still. It is there, it has not sprung up, it is inactive, just like a seed in the ground: it is wish. But the moment the seed is coming out of the ground as a seedling and is in the process of becoming a plant, then it is a will. Therefore these two different names, wish and will, are names of one and the same thing: in its undeveloped state and in its process of development. Desire is a weaker or primitive stage of the wish. When an idea, a thought, is not yet made clear in one's own mind and one's own mind has not taken a decision: “It must be so, I would like it to be so”—then it is a desire, it is a fancy. It comes and it goes, and one does not care. But when that desire is a little more developed then it is a wish. Then it stays there, it does not fade away like clouds, it is tangible, it is there. Yet it is not fulfilled, because for fulfillment it must develop. There are some people in this world who say, “All my life I had bad luck. The bad luck was that never in my life my wish was granted.” They can very easily imagine that a spirit was against them, or God was against them, or the stars, or that something was keeping back their wish. But it is not always so. In the first place God wishes the same that we wish; if God wished differently from our wish we could not worship that God who was always against us. It is not so! Besides, there is no benefit in opposing the wish of man; to God there is no advantage in doing so. No doubt there are planetary reasons, reasons of the universe at work, reasons of the cosmos that oppose the wish. As it is said, “Man proposes, God disposes.” The name “God” is put in the place of the cosmic forces, but God with His mercy and compassion never has a desire to oppose anyone s wish. God apart, a good-hearted man would never like to oppose anybody's wish; he would do everything possible to make anybody's wish complete, to make a person's wish come true. A kindly person would do it. But what mostly happens is that man proves to be the worst enemy of his own desire-for many reasons. One reason is that he is never sure what he desires. Out of a hundred persons you will find one who knows what he desires, but ninety-nine say, “Do I desire, or do I not desire—I don't know. I think I desire, but I do not know if it is so.” Ninety-nine percent among men is in this condition; they really do not know if they desire. One day they say, “Yes, I do” another day they say, “No, I don't think I desire.” Therefore their desire is decomposed in the unclearness of the mind. Then there are others who analyze their desire, and they analyze it till they have broken it to pieces. There are many analytical people who have all through life destroyed their desires by analyzing them. There is a third kind of people: those who have adopted a passive attitude. They say it is a sin to desire. Yet they cannot be without desire, and in this passive attitude they say, “Well, I will not desire.” They have crossed the desire that was there. And there is a fourth kind of person who desires something, but by lack of concentration cannot turn his desire into a wish. Therefore the desire stays in its primitive stage all the time. A fifth kind of person develops desire into a wish; he goes so far and no further. But the wish must be developed into will. So the desire is not carried through, so to speak, and never comes to its culmination. Now this is a subject which is of the greatest importance in the life of every person in the world. No one can exist in the world without wishing for something, and if there is a person who has no wish he need not stay in the world. He must go somewhere out of the crowd; he cannot exist there. He must go out in the mountains and even there he should turn into a tree or into a rock in order to exist, because to be a living being without a wish is not possible. The difference between persons-high and low-is according to the wish they have. One wishes for the earth, the other wishes for heaven. The desire of one takes him to the heights of spiritual progress, the desire of the other takes him to the depth of the earth. Man is great or small, man is wise or foolish, man is on the right road or on the wrong road according to the desire he has. Now coming to the question of the opposing forces: according to the Sufis there are Qaher and Qadr. Qaher is the universal Will, universal power; Qadr is the individual will and the individual power. No doubt the individual power in comparison with the universal power is like a drop compared with the sea. It cannot stand against the sweeping waves of the sea that come and destroy it. Nevertheless, the drop, being from the same source as the sea, has also a certain amount of strength, and the individual will also has a certain strength if it wills to hold against opposing forces. If we want to make the individual will and the universal will more clear, it is in small things that we can do so. When a person is walking in the street and says, “I feel hungry, I should like to go to a restaurant and have a meal” that is individual will. Another person goes in the street and sees a poor man, and says, “Ah, this man—he seems to be poor, he must have something; can I not do something for him? I want to see him looking happier.” As soon as he thinks of the good of another person, at once his will becomes the universal will. The reason is that the boundary that limits the will of an individual is the thought of the self. As soon as one has forgotten the thought of self, as soon as one thinks of another, that boundary breaks down and the will becomes stronger. The masters of humanity, those who have been able to do great things in the world, where did they get their will from? It was their own will which was extended by the breaking down of the boundaries of the thought of self. It does not mean that one should give up the thought of self, that one must never think of oneself, never think of one's lunch and dinner. The self is there, one has to think about it. But at the same time in order to expand, in order to let the will grow, the more one forgets oneself the more one is helped. There are some who take the path of resignation, neither doing good to themselves nor to another. It is a kind of attitude they have taken to say, “It will come from somewhere. Somebody will do it. If I am hungry somebody will come and feed me”-or, “If another person is in need, somebody will come and help him.” Their wish is inactive, they do not let their wish become a will, they remain where they are, they are passive. No doubt, an intelligent passiveness and resignation can also bring about a wonderful result, but many of these people do it unintelligently. The quality of the saints is to be resigned to all that comes—but then they do not even form a wish. They take all that comes, flowers or thorns; everything that comes, they take it. They look into thorns and see that they are flowers. With praise and with blame they are contented. They are contented with rise and fall; they take all that comes, they take life as it is. That is the intelligent way of doing it. The unintelligent way is to say of anything that is difficult, “Somebody will come and do it.” This is a kind of laziness. They may think it is passiveness, but it is laziness to think, if one has to do something, “Somebody will come who will do it.” In India it is told that a man was lying under a cherry tree and some ripe cherries were falling near him. But he was just lying there. A man came from a distance to whom he called out, “Please come here, will you please put this cherry in my mouth?” There are many to be found like this who out of a feeling of helplessness, of laziness, give in, who have no enthusiasm, no courage. In this way their willpower is broken down and in the end they are helpless. There is no comparison between the saintly spirit and the spirit of the helpless. Although both become resigned, the latter is not truly resigned: he would like to have the cherry in his mouth, but another person must give it to him. The saint does not care if he eats it or if he does not eat it; it is just the same to him. In that case it is allowable. Then there are others who are over-anxious for their wish to come true; it destroys their wish because the strength, the pressure they put upon their wish is too great. It is Just like guarding a plant against the sun and against water; if one guards the plant against the very things that should help it to grow, then it cannot grow. It is the same with the wish; if a person says, “This is my wish and it must come true, no one must think about it, no one must look at it” he is always afraid that perhaps this wish will not come true. He is eager, he is thinking with doubt, fear and suspicion and therefore he will destroy his own wish. Again there is a person who is willing to sacrifice anything, or to persevere as much as it requires for even a small wish which he does not value very much when it comes to value. Yet he gives it every thought and he does everything in his power to make that wish come true. That person is taking the same path as the path of the masters. He must have success, and it is success which brings success. If once a person is successful, his success attracts success. Once a person fails then this failure attracts failure; for the same reason that, if a person is on the path of accomplishment, each accomplishment gives him a greater power to go forward, and when he is on the path that goes downward then every step leads him downward. Now arises the question which desire and wish one must give up and which one must rear. One must have discrimination. If here is no discrimination one will take a wrong way; it may lead to success, but it will be a success in a wrong way. If one rears every desire and wish, and thinks, “This must be accomplished then sometimes it may be right and sometimes wrong. Discrimination must first be developed in order to understand what leads one to happiness, a lasting happiness, a greater peace, a higher attainment. But once a person has discrimination and has chosen a wish, then he should not analyze it too much. Many have formed a habit of analyzing everything every day. If a person holds a wish for ten years and every day analyses it in his mind he acts against it. Every day he looks at it from a new point of view, he tries to find the wrong points of his own wish and so he tries to crush it in every way possible. In ten years' time his wish would have come true, and instead it is broken to pieces. There are many intellectual people, many people who doubt, many analytical persons who are the greatest enemies of their wish. And now comes the question whether it is wrong if a person expresses his wish in prayer, for many people say, “God knows everything, so why should we tell God that such and such a thing should be done. God knows the secret of every heart. Besides, is it not selfish to bring our wish before God? If it is a good wish, it must come true of itself.” The answer is that prayer is a reminder to God, prayer is a song sung before God who enjoys it, who hears it, who is reminded about something. But one thinks, “How can our prayer, our little voice reach God?” It reaches God through our ears. God is within us. If our soul can hear our voice, God can hear it too. Prayer is the best way, because the wish is beautifully expressed, which harmonizes us with God, which brings about a greater relationship between man and God. Then one may ask whether it is good to think about the wish one has. One can never think too many times of the wish one has. Dream about it, think about it and imagine it, keep it in mind, retain it in mind and do everything possible towards its fulfillment-but with poise, with tranquillity, with patience, with confidence, with ease, and not by thinking hard about it. The one who thinks hard about his wish destroys it, for it is just like overheating, or giving too much water to a plant: the very thing that should help it, destroys it. If a person worries about his wish he certainly either has no patience, or he has some fear or some doubt; all these things destroy the wish. The wish must be cherished easily, with comfort, with hope, with confidence and with patience. Doubt is like rust, it eats into it; fear is still worse, it destroys it. When a person has no discrimination and he is not sure whether it is a right wish or a wrong one, whether it should come true or not, one day he says, “I should so much like it to come true”; another day he says, “I do not care if it comes true after a week he says anew, “I so much wish it to come true and after a month, “Oh, I do not care now.” It is just like making a fire and then putting it out, then making the fire again and again putting it out. Every time he extinguishes the fire it is gone, he will have to make it anew. And so, if a person has formed a wish and cherished it for ten years, each time it is broken he has to make it anew. And now comes the question what wish is the most desirable. This depends upon one's own stage of evolution. A person who is only so much evolved that he can make no greater wish than for the need of his daily life, let him do it. He must not think, “Because it is only the need of daily life it is nothing, I must wish for something higher.” He must not think that. If his heart is inclined to the need of daily life, he must think of it first. But if his heart thinks, “No, I cannot wish for this, I can think of something much higher” then he must take the consequences. The consequences will be that he will have to go through tests and trials—and if he does not mind this, so much the better. There are many things in this world which we want and which we need, and yet we do not necessarily think about them. If they come it is all right, and if they do not come we feel uncomfortable for a time, but that feeling passes. We cannot put our mind and thought upon them if we are evolved, because then we think of something else, of something higher; our thought is involved in something much higher and greater than what we need in everyday life. We do not pay attention to what we need and that slips from our grasp. It is therefore that great poets, thinkers and sages were very often hard up for things that one could get in everyday life. With all their power they could command gold to come to their house—and the gold would come, they only had to command it. If they commanded that an army was to come into their power it would come—the army and anything they would command. Yet they could not give their mind to it, they could only wish for something which was equal to their particular evolution. So each person can only wish for something equal to his evolution, he cannot properly wish for something which is beneath his evolution, even if he was told to do so. Very often in order to help a person in a certain situation I have said to him, “Now think of this particular object.” But being much more evolved than that he thought with his brain, his heart was somewhere else, and so it never came true. One can give one's heart and mind and whole being to something which is equal to one's evolution. If it is not equal one cannot give one's whole being to it. Maybe a person gives his thought to it, but what is thought? Thought without feeling is no power. If the soul and the spirit are not at the back of it, there is no power. So this must be understood: that our wish must be different from what we need in everyday life. Never mix it! Always think that what we need in everyday life is one thing: something practical. Though if that be our wish, then it is all right. And then we are to cherish, to maintain our wish as something sacred, something given to us by God to cherish, to bring to fulfillment for it is in the fulfillment of one's highest and best and deepest wish that lies the purpose of life. Question: Is there any way of finding out beforehand if a wish will be good for us? Answer: That is the most difficult thing to say. It can only be done by training oneself, and that training is: always to have a good thought for everyone, a kind thought for everybody, to develop a consciousness of Justice within oneself, to have sympathy, to have goodwill for everyone in the world. If a person keeps this as a principle in his everyday life then every wish that will come to him will be productive of good results. Question: Can we feel the accomplishment of a wish beforehand? Answer: if one can feel the accomplishment of a wish beforehand it means that the wish is secure, that the wish is surely to be fulfilled. If with the wish you have got a feeling that this wish will come true, then it must come true. There is no doubt about it, because when you have that feeling it shows that you have no doubt, that there is nothing opposing it. Therefore that wish of yours is a promise at the same time. Question: When Buddha said that we should have no desire, did he mean that we should have the attitude of a saint? Answer: The Buddha never said that you should have no desire. The Buddha spoke of “the man who has no desire.” it never was the principle of Buddha that you must not have a desire; Buddha was too wise to commit himself like this. What is meant is that we must develop so that one day we may reach to that stage where naturally we shall have no desires. But if we have a desire and say, “Because Buddha has said that we must have no desire, therefore we must throw it away it is working against ourselves. It is just like a man who, having heard that a saint had lived without food for a very, very long time and had experienced exaltation, would say, “Well, I shall give up my lunch every day if I can become spiritual by it.” He may just as well have his lunch because he feels hungry. The one who went without food was not hungry, he had risen above it. We must have principles according to our stage of evolution, and never take principles higher than our stage of evolution, forcing ourselves to abide by them. Question: Does it matter if one has several wishes at the same time? Answer: Suppose one did salt and sweet and savory and pepper all together in the mouth, how would the taste be? It would come to nothing. And so each wish destroys the other. You may have five best wishes at the same time, but one wish will destroy the other; therefore there is not one wish that you will enjoy. Besides, it is only to one wish that you can give your greatest power. Question: The other day you said, “The one who turns his back to the world—the whole world runs after him.” How is this to be understood? Answer: This can be understood by seeing two persons bargaining. For instance a peddler at the dock of Alexandria comes with an object, and you say, “How beautiful. I like it. How much will you take for it? “As soon as you have said this he wants you to give as high a price as he wishes to get from you. As soon as you turn your back and say, “I do not care for it” he comes after you and says, “Will you take it for half the price?” If you go still further and still turn your back, he will give it to you for the quarter of it. Exactly the same is the nature of this world; it is a greedy world. You follow it, it runs from you; you turn your back to it, it comes after you. Destiny and Free Will There are two points of view: very often people either believe in destiny or in free will. Those who believe in destiny do not believe in free will; it is a question of temperament, and it also depends upon the experience they had in their lives. Some people have worked and had some success and recognized it as the outcome of their work. Then they think, “If there is anything it is free will. What we have done shows it: we have achieved results.” And there are others who have worked but did not succeed. In that case they begin to see that something is keeping them back from getting results, and then they think, “There is something destiny—which is holding us back.” Many think, “It is a sort of laziness to be fatalist; after all it is a superstition.” And others think, “Free will is just a name, a conception, an idea a person may have, but really it is all destiny.” Nevertheless, their idea of free will has its meaning and this belief has its peculiar benefit in life, while at the same time the idea of destiny is profound. Whether a person believes in it or does not believe in it, there is always an attraction about it. One who reads the future will always attract the believer in destiny as well as the unbeliever. The believer goes to him with faith, the unbeliever with smiles. Whether they believe that it is true or not, both are attracted to know about destiny because it is the greatest mystery there is. One's own life in which one is most interested always remains a secret, a mystery, and this mystery is greater than any other in the world. No one can say, “I have no interest in knowing about my life, in knowing why I have had that past, why I have this present and what future I shall have.” To know about it is the greatest desire one has. Concerning the idea of destiny one may ask whether a plan is laid out so that every occurrence in life must be according to that plan. And if it is laid out, on what ground? Who has laid it out? If it is God who laid it out, how far could it be just on the part of God to make one happy and another miserable, one great and another small, to let one enjoy and at the same time make another suffer-living under the same sun, walking on the same earth? If it is man's action, is it in the first place the action of the past or is it the action of the present and, if it is man's action, to what degree is he responsible for it? These questions take a person to the depths of life's mystery, and once they are solved a great philosophical problem has been solved. Most often a person has a preconceived idea, and this idea he keeps as a wall before him; content with what he knows about it, he does not try to inquire any further. There is no doubt that a man is born with a plan to be accomplished in life—not only with instincts, with merits or gifts, but with the whole plan of how his life is to be. There is a saying in the East that one can read the life of an infant from looking at its feet; even the little feet of the infant show the sign of the plan that it is to follow through life. There is a story that explains a little more the relation between destiny and free will. A seer was working as a porter in a rich man's house. Now there is a belief in the East that no sooner a child is born than angels come and write on its forehead the whole plan of destiny. But this seer-porter was a wonderful man. At the door, as soon as the angels came, he said, Stop, where are you going? I am the porter here! You cannot go in unless you promise to tell me about the plan.” The angels told him; he was a strong porter, he would not let them go without telling him. And so every time a child was born in that house he took down the notes of what was going to happen. Then the parents passed away. Theirs had been a rich house, but for some reason or other the money was lost. The children were left without shelter, and it fell upon the shoulders of the old porter to look after them with what little means he had. As soon as they were old enough the children went to different countries with what little they had to spend. One day this servant of the house thought that it was his duty to go and see how they were getting on. Also for a seer it is most interesting to see the material phenomenon of the same thing he had seen inwardly as a vision. That comes as a satisfaction to a seer; it is naturally amusing for him when he sees on the outer plane the same things he had felt inside himself. It gives him the greatest fun, the greatest amusement. So the porter went and saw one child of the house working as a horse groom. He was very sorry to see the child of a house, where so many horses had been kept, in this situation. He went to the young man and told him, It could not be avoided, it was meant that you should be so. Only, I want to give you one advice, because it makes me sad to think that you, in whose house were so many horses, now have to work as a horse groom. Here is a little money, take it and go to another city and try to work as a horse trainer. Horses of rich men may be given to you to train them, and I am sure you will be successful.” The young man asked, “Can I do anything else?” “No, that is the only door out. Perhaps you would have been a horse groom all your life if I had not told you this. Anything else you cannot do; this is the only path for you. Do your work in a different way and you will have success.” The young man did so and was successful. The porter then went to the other son and asked, “What is your condition?” “My condition is that I wander about in the forest and bring back some birds. I sell them in the city and hardly get any money to live.” In those days there was a fashion among kings to keep a certain bird as a pet; that bird was called Shahbaz, the king's bird. The porter said, “You must not look for game birds, look for this bird Shahbaz.” The boy replied, “But if I cannot find it, should I then rather starve and die?” “Do you know what your father was and what you are?” “Yes, I had bad luck.” “You will have better luck if only you listen to me. You need not change your profession of catching birds, but catch Shahbaz. You can sell it for millions. That is the bird you ought to catch.” This story makes us realize what the seer does. A definite plan was made for those two young men; at the same time there was scope for free will to work—but within that plan. If one did not think of this scope one would go on in the lines of the plan and continue to live miserably. Seeing changes the scope. It is a great lesson and those who can understand this lesson can benefit immensely by it: seeing there is a plan and at the same time that there is scope to do better, and much better-yet within the plan. Sa'adi, the great poet of Persia, has said, “Every soul is born for a certain purpose and the light of that purpose is kindled in his soul.” Now the question arises if a person is born with what the Hindus call karma: some action of the past, or something he has brought with him on earth, a good influence or a bad influence, something that he has to pay. No doubt there is truth in it and we can see that truth very often: a person is placed in a situation where he has to give, where he has to serve, where he has to sympathize without any intention on his part, as if he has to pay a debt to someone. He may not have the slightest desire to do so-at the same time it falls on his shoulders, he cannot help it. It is as if a higher atonement has determined that it must be so. Whether the person does it willingly or unwillingly he must give his time, thought, sympathy and service to someone else. Then one sees that a person receives money or comfort or love and sympathy from someone else. Whether he deserves it or does not deserve it is not the question to be thought about: one is in a certain situation and cannot help it. Whether people are willing or not willing, there is something that compels them, they cannot help it. This shows that one is born with that relation of give and take, one cannot help it. Among Hindus some people are accustomed to say that to them others are like children who have nothing to pay, just like parents will say, “We have nothing to get from our children.” This makes it clear that man is born with certain obligations which willingly or unwillingly he must fulfill. It also shows that, however powerful and however great a person may be, however good circumstances may seem, when there is to be a difficulty it cannot be helped; the difficulty will be there. And then at other times in life, in spite of all things lacking, a way is open; you have not to do much and it is all smooth. This also shows that there is a plan. It is not only qualification and cleverness that make successful, but a plan is to be accomplished. There are times when you are meant to have an easy life, success and all you wish, and other times when you cannot have these. One may ask, “Is it so that something is born with a person, or is it the effect of a person's action on the earth?” The answer is, “Both.” Suppose an artist first made in his mind a design of a certain picture and then, as he made that Picture, so he was inspired by it. This suggested him to change the design and, as he went along making the picture, it changed to such an extent that it became quite different from the picture he had made before. He had thought of putting two horns on a particular figure and now he made two wings: instead of an animal it became a bird. Even to that extent life may be changed by action. A right action, a good action is productive of power; it is creative and can help much more than man can imagine. Then arises the question to what extent man can help himself The answer is that man has two aspects in him. One aspect is his mechanical being where he is but a machine controlled by conditions, by his impressions, by outer influences, by cosmic influences, by his actions. Everything working mechanically turns his life accordingly: he has no power over conditions, he is just a tool of influences. The more this aspect is pronounced in man, the less evolved he is. It is a sign of less evolution. Another aspect in man is creative, in which he shows the sign of being representative of the Creator, in which he shows that he is not only linked with God but part of God: his innermost self is God. Be not surprised therefore if you hear those amazing stories of sages, masters, saints and prophets whose command worked in the cosmos and by whose will a generality, a collectivity moved as they wished it to move. It is nothing to be surprised at. Outwardly every man is almost of the same size; no man is as high as a camel, or as stout as an elephant. Outwardly men differ little, but inwardly there is no comparison in the size of the spirit, no comparison between the understanding, the power and insight of one man and that of another. One walks, one runs, one flies and one creeps; yet all walk on the same earth, live under the same sun—all called men. Nevertheless, there is no man who has not a spark of this power, who has not the possibility of changing conditions by his free will, if only he realized what he is. It is the absence of this realization which makes man a machine. Now coming to the causes that change man's life, man's destiny: these are not only his own actions, but also the thoughts of another. For instance I have seen many cases where a loving mother was not pleased with her growing child who did not satisfy her. This must always make the child suffer in one way or another; it is never otherwise. He may become a qualified and capable man, but not having satisfied his mother is quite enough for him to quit luck. A keen study will make us understand how these things work, but from childhood we have been so absorbed in our own life and interest that we do not think much about how the thought and feeling of those around us act upon us. A rich man, displeased with his porter or servant, may speak roughly to him or insult him, not realizing at the time that perhaps the feeling of the servant, who is dependent and bound to that particular place, who thinks that his situation keeps him in that position, is hurt. Then, when the rich man goes to his office, to his affairs, he gets that pinprick there; he does not know why. He thinks that he has given a pinprick to a servant who could not return it-but someone else returns it. He feels it but does not know that it is the answer of the same thing he has done. The more we think about this the more we shall believe that God works through all beings-not only human beings but even through animals and birds. And when we are able to believe this we cannot help believing the words of Buddha, “The essence of all religion is harmlessness.” Harmlessness does not mean refraining from killing: one can kill many without killing. In order to kill a person one does not need to murder him; a glance, a word, a thought can kill a person, and that is worse torture than death. It is this experience that will make us say, “My very feet, be conscientious lest you tread on the thorns lying on your path, lest they complain: You have crushed me.” There is no end to consideration once a person begins applying this principle. If there is any religion it is in having consideration for everyone: earnestly to consider what feeling can be touched by a moment's mistake. If there is any abode of God it is in the heart of man. If the heart is touched wrongly it has an effect upon destiny, and we do not know to what extent destiny can be changed by the feeling of another person: it can change it more than our own feeling could. One always wishes good for oneself, no one wishes to be unhappy. Then there are planetary influences, and one may ask, “What are these planetary influences? What relation do they have with us?” The answer is that man also is a planet and, as one planet is related to another, so in the same way planets are related to mankind. Naturally the changing of the condition of a planet and what is produced by it, and what effect is produced by the planet, have an effect upon man's life. One might ask, “Is man so small as to be under the influence of a planet?” Yes, outwardly. Outwardly man is so small as to be a drop in the ocean. If the planet is the ocean, then the individual is a drop. But inwardly the planet is a drop in the ocean of man's heart. As if, the great philosopher says, “My ignorance, the day you will have vanished my heart will be open, and this whole universe will become a bubble in the ocean of my heart.” Smallness and imperfection are the outcome of ignorance and relate the heart to limitation. The day when the heart is open the whole universe will be in it, and the source of destiny, its secret and its mystery will be in the hand of man. What is the manner in which we should believe in destiny and free will? The best way of believing in destiny is to think that all disagreeable things we have gone through belong to destiny; they are past, we are free from them. The way how to look at free will is to think that all that is before us, all that is to come, is the outcome of free will, and to keep before us as a concentration the thought: nothing wrong will touch us, but all that is good for us, all that is best, lies before us. It is wrong to think that worse things are in store for us because destiny has kept our karma and intends that we must suffer, that we have to pay for our karma, for the one who is conscious of his karma will have to pay a high interest; the more he is conscious of it, the more interest he will have to pay. In conclusion we come to understand that there are two aspects of will working through all things in life. One is the individual will, the other the divine will. When a person goes against the divine will, naturally his human will fails and he finds difficulties, because he is swimming against the tide. The moment a person works in consonance, in harmony with the divine will, things become smooth. “But” one will say, “life has not been smooth for great personalities such as Christ.” From childhood there were difficulties; his parents had to flee to the desert, and when the young Jesus was brought among the people there were still greater difficulties. The great saints and sages had great difficulties all through life; all was not smooth for them. Did they work against destiny, against the will of God?” This question shows that to realize the will of God is difficult on the material plane. In the Bible we read, “Thy will be done on earth as in heaven.” This makes us understand that it is not as easy for His will to be done on earth as it is in heaven. And this is a suggestion which teaches us a great lesson: there is a conscious will working and an unconscious will working. That unconscious working is abstract working, but the conscious working is divine working; it may be called divine will. It may have difficulties, but at the same time these difficulties have a meaning. In other words, success or failure of God, of godly power, means nothing: it is success in the end. And the success or failure of man also is nothing: it is failure in the end. If a man succeeds in collecting so much wealth or in attaining such a high position as he wants, what is the end of it? It will belong to someone else who will snatch it out of his hand. Therefore whether we have success or failure in life, if it is individual, in the end it is failure. But in the case of a godly purpose, whether it is failure or success, it is success in the end. It cannot be otherwise; it is only gain that is there. Nanak says, “The grain that takes refuge near the center of the grinding mill is saved.” So is the man who keeps close to God and draws his power and inspiration from God. When his life is directed by that power and inspiration, whether he has difficulties or ease, his way is always smooth and the end is what it ought to be. Free Will and Destiny The power an individual is acquainted with is the power of his free will—or he arrives to experience that his free will is clashing against the free will of another individual. Then he begins to see the clashing between the free will of two persons. If he happens to be powerful he gets the better of the situation; if the other happens to be more powerful then the other gets the better of it. And when they come to think about destiny the one who is slow in believing will say, “I do not know...” but a man with some belief in things of the abstract will say that there is a destiny. He has every proof to convince himself of it. There are many clever and qualified people in business, in professions, in politics, but their cleverness or qualification is not always the reason why they are successful. Very often we will find that a simple person, a person lacking cleverness or lacking qualification is successful. It is not always the rule but very often it is so: a most innocent person in a very high position, and a most clever person perhaps working as his waiter. People in high offices may have a secretary who knows more than they themselves—if not always, very often. And when we ask, “Why does that person stand here with all his cleverness while the other sits in the chair of honor? What is the reason?”—the answer is that destiny is working behind it all, fixing them and adjusting them in their places. There is a saying in the East: “The feet of the infant are to be seen from its cradle.” In other words, what it is going to be you can see from the cradle; it shows signs which promise its future. Then the question arises, “Is destiny the will of God?” And the answer is that in a sense the perfect will of God is that which the godly perceive in its fullness. If it were not so the hint in the Bible, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. “ would have no meaning. It does not say, “Thy will is being done on earth as it is in heaven.” If this was so it would point to destiny, but it is the work of destiny and free will to come in connection in order to fulfill the will of God. It is free will and destiny, the two coming together, which bring about the will of God: but free will in its perfect state, in its fuller meaning. A man arranges something in life—then conditions oppose it. In that case either the will, the will of God, is in that man, or the will is in the conditions. In the end, when one of these opposing forces will fail and one conquer, then the will of God is fulfilled; or when these two different aspects of will work harmoniously then the will of God is fulfilled. There is a Persian saying, “When two hearts become one they can remove mountains.” In other words, when the will of one person and the free will of the other person become one, in other words harmonious, then they become a phenomenon; it works like magic. But when they do not work harmoniously then the will that is done is not the will of God, it is destiny. I will give you a small example. A nice lady had a new maid. In order to entertain a friend, who was coming to visit her, she asked the maid to go and buy a beautiful bouquet of flowers. When the maid went out and asked the price of the bouquet at the florist's, she thought, “How extraordinary on the part of my lady to spend all that money on this. I wish she would have asked me something else to do.” Instead of doing what the lady had asked her she went and bought some cheese sandwiches, and was delighted in her heart thinking, “When I bring these to my lady she will be very pleased.” When the lady saw what the maid had bought she was horrified. While she had expected that her friend would be entertained with flowers, there were cheese sandwiches! This will make you understand more fully that hint in the Bible, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” What man always does out of his will is not always divine will. The divine will is done when man is in contact with the divine Spirit in himself-it is then that he begins to understand the meaning of the divine will. Those who persevere in the path of power are persons of three kinds: the one whose way is uphill and the other whose way is downhill-both arriving at the same end, the first perhaps with greater, the other with less difficulty. The third has the most difficult way, for it is neither upwards nor downwards; it may be called the way of the cross. The uphill way is the way where a person thinks, “I must have it, I must accomplish it.” He spares no effort, no thought, no energy, nothing! He goes after it, in its pursuit till he has obtained it. This is the uphill way, because climbing to the heights of the mountain every step is very difficult and very tiresome. But if his patience helps him, if he continues to persevere, in the end no doubt he arrives at the top of the mountain. This may be seen in great or in small things. If a child tries to make a toy out of wax, and he cannot make it the first time and tries another time without accomplishing it, and the third time, after a week, makes the toy he wanted to make, he has really accomplished something. But if after having tried to make it twice he thinks, “Oh no, I cannot make it he has failed. This path of course is a path of continual struggle. I do not wish to bring into this the right and wrong of the motive, or the good and bad of the striving of a person, because that would take us to the subject of morals which we shall not touch just now. No matter what a person is striving for, if he perseveres continually without fall, he is coming closer and closer to the will of God. Then there is the one who says, “Well, I will be resigned. What will be will be, what will come will come. I am ready to face it, I am ready to take it as it comes. If it happens that I should give I shall give, if it happens that I should take I shall take. Whether it is agreeable to me or not agreeable, whatever is coming, whatever conditions will offer—I will take all that life gives.” This is the downhill way; it asks little effort, just like coming down from the top of a hill does not tire one so much. Nevertheless, the one way is not more difficult than the other. It only depends on what temperament a person is born with. There is the persevering one who will go on striving against all difficulties; for him to go downhill is difficult, for him to renounce, to sacrifice is difficult. He is born with the spirit of attainment, he will go upwards in spite of all difficulties. If he lost his life it would not matter, he will go on in this path. And there is the other one who is born with renunciation. He will be content with all that comes, he is in harmony with conditions, he is in peace with people. Whether they treat him rightly or wrongly he will take it all peacefully, harmoniously, and in the end he will arrive at the same goal, in touch with the divine will. The third way is the way of the cross: it is striving and being resigned at the same time. No doubt that is the most difficult way. The uphill way is the way of the master, the downhill the way of the saint, but the way of the cross is the prophetic way. The prophets, in all ages in whichever part of the world they have come, have striven continually and have been resigned continually to all that comes. On the one hand active, on the other hand passive they progress through life. Therefore their life is being pulled from both sides. When they walk one leg is pulled from the back, the other leg is pulled from the front; there are always two sides to their lives. At the same time either of these qualities can be found in each person as a temperament, and the secret of one's life's success and the fulfillment of one's life's purpose lie in taking one's natural way. If it happens that a man is born with a quality of striving continually, his way is striving. He must not be passive, he must not be resigned, for if he does so he will fall and not accomplish his life's purpose. But if it happens to be his temperament that he is resigned, always resigned to all that comes, then he must take that way. There is nobility of spirit, of soul, in both these ways. But if unfortunately it happens that a person is born with these two qualities at the same time, his problem in life will be the most difficult, for he can neither do one thing nor the other. No doubt if he goes on in this way, in the end there is success-but success in the spiritual sense, not in a material sense. Now the question arises whether destiny is working blindly, or whether it is working intelligently, consciously. Is it working with wisdom? The answer is that to some extent it is always working more or less consciously, but at the same time in its different ways of working its condition is different. For instance, a person has the habit of getting up at night while still asleep; he walks in the room and knocks against the door or the wall because his eyes are closed. That is one way of moving about in the room. There is another way: a person is thinking of his poetry, he does not know where he is going, whether to a corner of the room or to one or an other side; his mind is thinking of the poetry. He is walking but does not know towards what he is walking. His walking has a meaning, and has not a meaning. His walking at that time is a stimulus to his inspiration; it helps him, but it is not conscious walking. Yet he knows that he is walking. And there is a third condition: when a person intentionally goes into a certain corner of the room in order to fetch something; he has a purpose in going there. Destiny works in these ways; the nature of life, of the whole of life, can be understood by studying the nature of man. Question: Is destiny working sometimes blindly, like the man walking in his sleep? Answer: It is for a demonstration that I have tried to put something in words which cannot be put in words. If I were to say that there are only seven notes I would be wrong, and still I would be right too, because there are seven accepted notes. But the gap between each note can be filled, if we distinguish them clearly, by perhaps five, six notes-or more or less. So what we call “blindly” is according to our perception of blindness. When we see this according to the idea of the Absolute, as the one and whole Being, then we cannot say that it is working blindly or unconsciously. It is what it is; it may show its work in different stages of consciousness, but it cannot be blind, it is still conscious. There is still a wisdom behind it, but not that wisdom which we understand as wisdom. For instance, a person walked in his sleep in his room while a thief was trying to take something out of his cupboard, and in his sleep he fell on the thief who then ran away, fearing that the man had got up. Here a purpose is fulfilled without intention. His walking in his sleep accomplished something, although the person did not walk in his sleep in order to fall upon the thief. So all things that happen, whether we understand the meaning or not, have their purpose and by that something is accomplished. Perhaps we know it at that moment, or perhaps we shall know it afterwards. Question: What is the distinction between inertia and the disposition you have characterized as the second path? Answer: Inertia could be understood as a kind of weakness, but this path is a kind of strength. It is a very strong person who can resign; a person who can sacrifice, tolerate and resign is not always a weak person. Yes, it is possible that a weak person out of weakness may tolerate, may sacrifice and may be resigned, but his feeling at doing so is different from that of the brave and courageous soul. The person whose character I described as saint shows the greatest bravery one could show. Is he not brave who patiently takes all things which trouble him, which hurt him, which torture his life, who suffers and endures all? A weak person will give an outlet to these things. For instance there is an artist whose art is not appreciated, who has no place in the world of art, and for some days he has to remain without a penny. If he busies himself in his studio, still working with no bread and butter in the house to eat and if he does not speak about it to anybody, is he not courageous? Is he not brave? Is he not noble? Is this weakness? No, the one who lacks these qualities would go out and say, “Look at me, in what condition I am! “ That would be different. There is great strength in a person who can take all things with resignation. Question: In the end, looking at the events when they have happened, must we not say that all is done according to the will of God? Answer: Well, that is a Sufi way: begin with free will and finish with the will of God. The only consolation when a thing is not done is to interpret is as the will of God. Question: Is the way of the cross the happy and satisfactory way? Answer: If it is happy and satisfactory to you, it is. If it is not so, it is not. Kismet The question is always brought up: Is there a power which rules the universe and controls all our actions, or are we free to do as we please; is our situation the result of our good or bad deeds, or are our actions and situation governed by the influence of the planets? In answer to this I will first mention what contradicts each of these principles. If God makes us act then we are not responsible; then it is all God and we have no responsibility. If we are quite free then I will say that you are your own well-wisher, and no one will be his own ill-wisher. Then whatever you wish for—success, riches or whatever it is-you will have it. It seems however that it is not so. If happiness and good fortune were the result of good actions then everyone would be good, and no one would be bad. But we see that many very wicked people are very fortunate: every day a wicked deed and every day a good fortune while many very good people are always unfortunate and in difficulties. Christ and all the prophets and saints suffered great adversities. If everything is the outcome of the influence of the planets, then I will say that you should stay in your room when there is a planet that is unfavorable to you; you should do nothing. Also when there is a planet that is favorable you should do nothing, because the planet will bring you everything by itself Having told you the contradictions I will now tell you the truth of each principle. There are four great powers that govern the world: Qadr and Qaher, Jalal and Jamal. Qaher is the power that governs the whole. For instance the king governs the whole country, but power is given to viceroys and to governors. The governor governs a whole province, but power is given to a commissioner. The commissioner governs his district; he knows more about its affairs than the governor knows and the governor does not interfere in his district. Each human being is given a power: beside those of the planet, and the outer influences, also man's will, may be stronger than the planet. On its return journey the soul has also to pass through the planet, the sun and the moon. Free Will—Aphorisms If god gave man free will and so refused to make his decisions for him, no other individual has a right to butt in and attempt to force a man's decisions. So you can only help a person within the scope of his own character. I mean that your capacity to help is limited by his ability to help himself. And that must be the tragedy of God. Every person has his own way in life, and that particular way is most suited for him. Trouble not about the past, worry not over the future but concern yourself with the present, for it is the present which is the picture of the past and the design for the future. Looking at the past and finding one's errors is like cracking nuts and finding a shriveled kernel. Looking at the past and recognizing one's mistakes is like mounting the steps of a staircase. Do not imagine what you do not wish to happen. Do not say what you do not wish to be done. The fatalist makes human beings as chairs and tables. The mystic makes even chairs and tables living beings. In spite of all his limitation a wonderful power is hidden in man's soul. What makes man helpless is ignorance of his free will. Free will is the basis of the whole life. Free will is the mighty power, the God-power, hidden in man, And it is ignorance which keeps man from his divine heritage. When the rocks are asleep leaving Us to use them for whatever purpose We may, when the trees are resigned to Our will to bear whatever fruit We may want them to bear, when the animals are carried along with their passions and appetites, We have made you partner in Our dominion and have given you a share in Our mercy, compassion, wisdom and righteousness, that your heart may expand so that it may rise to Our perfection. I erase the past out of my mind, brighten the present, and build a hope for the future. The Seer Why is one person called a seer when we all have eyes and the power of sight? What else is needed to be a seer than a doctor's certificate that our sight is keen? There are some people who take in everything the contrary way. While everybody stands upon his feet with his head up, in India you may see faqirs and Yogis who stand upon their head with their feet in the air; they wish to know what experience they may have by seeing in this way. Everybody is born with an inclination to certain things, an inclination to sleep, to eat and to drink, an inclination to comfort; in this too these faqirs take the contrary way. They sit or stand in one position for hours and hours; they fast, they do not drink for days and weeks; they torture themselves in these ways. It is not that there is any virtue in this, it is not that God is pleased with their torturing themselves, nor that their self, their ego is pleased with it. It is only that they wish to see what experience they get by this. We all have the tendency to see faults in another; they try to see faults in themselves. They see virtue in sin, and sin in virtue. The world says, “That man is bad, he has done this, he has done that.” They do not call anyone bad, they see what good there is even in the one who is called bad. Therefore Christ, because he was a dervish, did not condemn the sinner. He said to those Jews who thought themselves righteous, “Your father is the devil” that is: the nafs, the ego. In every virtue, in everything appearing in the garb of virtue, there is sin, or at least conceit: “I am virtuous, I am moral, I am religious.” This is the worst of virtue. Therefore Hafiz says, “Show me the way of the free-thinkers. Suitable it appears to me, for the way of virtue and piety seems very far off and long.” We all like to be honored, to be esteemed, to have attention paid to us; these faqirs and Yogis wish to know what experience there is in disgrace. They call the living dead and the dead living. Praise, consideration from people is nothing to them; they think it is praise from the dead, creatures of four days. The plant, the fire, the wall, things that to us are dead, speak to them, reveal everything to them. In the jungle every tree, every stone speaks to them. If there is a chair, a table, a piano in the room, we say there is something; if not, we say there is nothing. To them this space which we call nothing is full of everything; in it is everything. They call everything nothing, and in what to us is nothing they see everything. What is learning without seeing? Christ did not have a degree from a university—he saw. Learned people are always disputing. One says, “There are five elements;” after ten years another comes and says, “No, there are twenty elements;” after twenty-five years another comes and says, “I have discovered the true thing: there are seventy-five.” Seers from the first day till now have never differed in the truth which they all hold. The seer sees more than the astrologer can see; he sees much more; there is no comparison. But the difference is that the seer does not speak about it. If he did so, he would become just like the astrologer. For the seer every person's soul is just like an open letter, but if he would begin to say this his sight would become dimmer every day, because it is a trust given to him by God. If he were to divulge it, it would become dim. With spiritual trust they are entrusted who can keep the trust, who can keep a secret. Does the Consciousness See with the Physical Eyes? Whether the consciousness sees without eyes, or whether it needs the eyes to see, is a question that comes to the mind of all metaphysicians. If the consciousness can see alone, without the help of the eyes, why were these eyes created? There are people who can see things that are happening at a distance of many hundreds of miles and things that will happen many years later. They see what may be happening not only in their sleep but at all times. Some time ago there was in Delhi a Murshid whose name was Shah Alam. One day he was having his hair cut, and was looking in a little looking-glass while the barber was cutting his hair. In India the haircutters use such little looking-glasses. Suddenly-God knows what he saw in it—the Murshid dashed the mirror on the ground so that it broke into pieces. His mureeds who were with him were astonished; the barber also was amazed, wondering what had caused him to throw down the mirror with such violence. At that time one of his mureeds was travelling by sea from Arabia to India, and his ship was in a great storm and in great danger. He called upon his Murshid for help; the Murshid saw his peril and saved him. Afterwards the mureed told the others what had happened. In Hyderabad there was a dervish who had the habit of smoking very strong hashish. When he let the smoke out of his mouth he used to look into it and to answer any questions that were put to him. If someone asked him, “Where is my uncle at present?” he would say, Your uncle? Calcutta... such and such bazaar... now I turn to the left... the second house. Your uncle is sitting in his room. His servant is at his side and his child is standing before him.” Whatever he was asked he answered. Did he see it without eyes? No, his consciousness had not its external self before it and therefore it was able to see through the eyes of another, through the eyes of the uncle or any other. When I was in Russia there was an African, a very ordinary man, not a man of any education. His condition was such that at night when he was asleep, he knew who came into his room, what they said, what they did. This was because his soul was in and about the house and it saw through the eyes of whoever came there. In the same way the universal Consciousness sees through the eyes of every being on earth. It is looking through the eyes of all the millions of beings upon earth at the same time. The thief may steal something, hide it, carry it off and think, “No one sees me.” He cannot escape the sight of that Consciousness which is within himself, looking through his eyes. It is not that God from a distance looks down and sees all creatures upon earth. No, he sees through the very eyes of the beings themselves. The faculty of seeing exists in the Consciousness from the beginning. Therefore among the names of God are Basir the Seer and Sami, the Hearer. Basarat, the faculty of seeing, becomes more definite, exact and concrete the nearer it comes to manifestation. One may ask, “is God not limited by this, made helpless, dependent?” If it seems so to us it is because we deduct from God a part of His Being. We occupy a part of the ground and call it ours, our self. Really it is all God, the One Being. A Hindustani poet has said, What shall I call 'I'? Whatever I see it is all Thou. Body, mind, soul-all are Thou. Thou art, I am not. Seeing One can see, one can look, and one can observe. These three words denote the same action, yet each word suggests something different. By observing we understand something about that which we see, by seeing we take full notice of it; by looking-whether we understand it or not, whether we take notice of it or not—we have at least cast our glance on something. So there are three conditions: looking at a thing on its surface, seeing a thing properly, and seeing a thing with complete observation, understanding it while looking at it. Every person notices things in these three ways. That which interests him most he observes keenly; that which attracts his thought he sees, he takes notice of, that upon which his glance falls he looks at. There are therefore three different effects made upon man by all that he sees: a deeper effect of that which he has observed fully, a clear effect of that which he has seen, and a passing effect of that which he has glanced through. So naturally among all those who live under the sun there are thinkers, there are seers, and there are those who have two eyes. There is another side to this Question: a person who is walking has a certain experience of the way he has gone through; the one who goes the same way in an automobile has a different experience, and the one who flies through the air in an airplane has a still different experience. Perhaps the one who was walking was not able to reach his goal at the same speed as the one in the automobile and the one in the airplane, but the observation he made, the sights he saw, and the experience he had are not to be compared with those of the other two. In this way our minds work: there is one man whose mind works at the speed of the airplane, and there is another man whose mind works at the speed of an automobile. The one whose mind works at the speed of a man walking will perhaps not think as quickly as the other persons, but what he thinks he will think thoroughly, what he sees he will see thoroughly. It is he who will have insight into things, it is he who will understand the hidden law behind things, because the activity of his mind is normal. Of course quick thinking does not always depend upon the quick activity of the mind: sometimes it is a quality of the mind. An intelligent person also thinks quickly, but that is another thing. As there is a difference between two stones, a pebble and a diamond-both stones, the one precious, the other dull—so these are two different qualities of the mind: one person thinking quickly and intelligently, the other thinking quickly and being always mistaken. The latter is mistaken because he thinks quickly, the former has that quality of mind which, even in quick thinking, makes him think rightly. The rhythm of thinking has a great deal to do with one's life. When the three, who have traveled the same way on foot, by automobile and by airplane meet together and speak of their experiences, there will be great differences. And so it is that people who have gone through the same life, who have lived under the same sun, who have been born on the same earth, are yet so different in their mentality. The reason is that their minds have traveled at different speeds. Their experiences are quite different though they have gone the same way. A seer is the one who has not looked, but who has seen. And how has he seen? By controlling the impulse of walking quickly, by resisting the temptation of going to the right or to the left, by going steadily towards the object that he has to reach. All these things make one a seer. There are wrong interpretations of the word seer. Sometimes people say, “This person is a clairvoyant or a spiritualist, he sees fairies, ghosts or spirits.” But that is a different kind of person; he is not a seer. The seer need not see the world unseen. There is much to be seen here in the visible world; for there is so much hidden from the eyes of every man which he could see in this objective world that, if all his life he was contemplating upon seeing in this objective world, he would find sufficient things to see and to think about. It is a childish curiosity on the part of some persons when they want to see something that no one has seen. It is out of vanity that they tell they see something which others do not see; it is to satisfy their curiosity that they see something which is not to be seen in this world of objects. The world seen and the world unseen, both are one and the same, and they are here. What we cannot see is the world unseen, and what we can see is the world seen. It is not that what we cannot see hides itself from our eyes, it is because we close our eyes to it. Then there is long sight, short sight and medium sight. There are some who can see far beyond, far back, or long before things happen. These also are forms of sight. Another person only sees what is immediately before him, what is next to him, and sees nothing of what is behind him. His influence is limited, because everything that stands next to him influences him; he cannot see far behind, nor can he see far before him. There is another person who reasons about what he sees; this is medium sight. He reasons about it as far as his reason allows. He cannot see beyond his reasoning; he goes so far and no further. Naturally when these three persons meet and speak together, each has his own language. It is not surprising if the one does not understand the point of view of the other, because each one has his own sight, and according to that sight he looks at things. No one can give his own sight to another person in order to make him see differently. If in all ages spiritual people have taught faith, it was not because they wished that no one should think for himself and should accept everything in faith which was taught to him. If they had had that intention they would not have been spiritual people. Nevertheless, however clever a person may be, however devoted and enthusiastic, if he is without faith the spiritual persons cannot impart their knowledge to him, for there is no such thing as spiritual knowledge in the sense of learning. If there is anything spiritual that can be imparted to the pupil it is the point of view, it is the outlook on life. If a person already has that outlook on life he does not need spiritual guidance, but if he has not then words of explanation will not explain it to him, for it is a point of view, it cannot be explained in words. However much a person might explain the sight he saw when he was on the top of a mountain to a man who never climbed the mountain, that man will hear it and perhaps refuse to believe all that the other says; or if he has trust in this person who explains to him what he saw from the top of the mountain, then perhaps he will begin to listen to his guidance. He will not see the sight, but he will listen and he will benefit by the experience of the one who has seen it. But the one who goes on the top of the mountain will see it for himself, he will have the same experience. There is still another side to this question, and that is from which height one looks at life. When a person looks at life standing on the ground his sight is quite different from that of a person who is climbing the mountain, and it is again a different outlook when a person has climbed on to the top of the mountain. What are these degrees? These are degrees of consciousness. When a person looks at life as “I and all else that is one point of view. When a person sees all else and forgets “I” that is another point of view. And when a person sees all and identifies it with “I” that is another point of view again. The difference these points of view make in a person's outlook is so vast that words can never explain it. One gets an idea of what is called Nirwana, or cosmic consciousness, by reaching the top of the mountain, and an idea of communicating with God a person gets when he has climbed the mountain, and the idea of “I and you and he and she and it” is clearer when a person is standing on the ground. Spiritual progress is expansion of the soul. It is not always desirable to live on the top of the mountain, because the ground also is made for man. What is desirable is to have one's feet on the ground and the head as high as the top of the mountain. A person who can observe from all sides, from all angles, will find a different experience seeing from every angle; looking at every side will give him a new knowledge, a knowledge different from what he had known before. Then there is the question of seeing and not seeing. This is understood by the mystics. It is being able to see at will and being able to overlook. It is not easy for a person to overlook, it is also something one must learn. There is much that one can see, that one must see, and there is much that one may not see, that it is better one does not see. If one cannot see, that is a disadvantage, but there is no disadvantage in not seeing something that one may not see; because there are so many things that could be seen, one may just as well avoid seeing them. That person lacks mastery who is held by that which he sees. He cannot help seeing it, although he does not want to see it. But the one who has his sight in his hand sees what he wants to see, and what he does not want to see he does not see. That is mastery. As it is true of the eyes that what is before them they see and what is behind them they do not see, so it is true of the mind: what is before it it sees and what is behind it it does not see. And so a person who sees may see one side, while always the other side is hidden. Naturally therefore, if this objective world is before his eyes, the other world is hidden from his sight, because he sees what is before him; he does not see what is behind him. And as it is true that what is behind him a person can only see by turning his head back, so it is also true that what the mind does not see can be seen by the mind when it is turned the other side. What is learned in esotericism, in mysticism, is the turning of the mind from the outer vision to the inner vision. You might ask: what profit does one derive from it? If it is profitable to rest at night after a whole day's work, so it is profitable to turn one's mind from this world of variety in order to rest it and to give it another experience, which belongs to it, which is its own, which it needs. It is this experience which is attained by the meditative process. A person who is able to think and not able to forget, a person who is able to speak but not able to keep silent, a person who is able to move and not able to keep still, a person who is able to cry and not able to laugh-that person does not know mastery. It is like having one hand, it is like standing on one foot. To have complete experience of life one must be able to act and to take repose, one must be able to think, and one must be able to keep silent. There are many precious things in nature and in art, things that are beyond value, yet there is nothing in this world that is more precious than sight, and that which is most precious is insight: to be able to see, to be able to understand, to be able to learn and to be able to know. That is the greatest gift that God can give, and all other things in life are small compared to it. In order to enrich one's knowledge, in order to raise one's soul to higher spheres, in order to allow one's consciousness to expand to perfection-if there is anything that one can do, it is to help oneself in every way to open the sight, which is the sign of God in man. It is the opening of the sight which is called the soul's unfoldment. The Different Stages of Spiritual Development In sanskrit three distinct words are used: Atma which means the soul or a soul, an individual, a person; Mahatma, a high soul, an illuminated being, a spiritual personality; Paramatma, the divine man, the self-realized person, the Godconscious soul. As you have read in the Gayan, “If you only explore him, there is a lot in man” so man—taken as every man—has in the spiritual spheres a very wide scope of development, a scope of development that an ordinary mind cannot imagine. The term “divine man” has always been connected with man, and very few realize that it means Godman. The reason is that certain religiously inclined people have separated so much from God that they have filled the gap between man and God with what they call religion, a faith that stands for ever as a dividing wall between God and man. To man all sins are attributed, and to God all purity. It is a good idea-but far from truth. Now as to the first word that I have used, Atma, which means man: mankind can be divided into three principal categories. In one category man is the animal man; in another he can be the devil man, and in the third he can be the human man. A Hindustani poet has used two different words to distinguish this idea. He says, “There are many difficulties in life, for it is even difficult for man to be a person.” The animal man is the one who concerns himself with food and drink, and whose actions are in no way different from those of an animal, who is content with the satisfaction of his natural appetites. The man who represents devilish qualities is the one in whom the ego, the self, has become so strong and so powerful—and therefore so blind—that it has almost wiped away from him any sense of gentleness, of kindness, of justice. He is the one who takes pleasure in causing harm or hurt to another person, the one who returns evil for good done to him, the one whose pleasure it is to do the wrong thing. The number of those belonging to this category is large. Then there is the human man, in whom sentiment is developed. Perhaps according to the physician's idea he may not be the normal person, but from the point of view of the mystic a person who has balance between thought and sentiment, who is awakened to the feeling of another, who is conscientious about everything he does and the effect it produces upon others—that person is beginning to be a human person. In other words, even for man to be a man is not an easy thing. Sometimes it takes a lifetime. Then we come to the Mahatma, an illuminated soul. This soul looks at life from a different point of view, his outlook becomes different. He thinks about others more than about himself. His life is devoted to actions of beneficence. He expects no appreciation or reward for all that he can do for others. He does not look for praise and he is not afraid of blame. On one side connected with God, on the other side connected with the world he lives his life as harmoniously as possible. There are three categories of Mahatmas. One Mahatma is busy struggling with himself and struggling with conditions before him and around him. One may ask, “Why this struggle?” The answer is that there is always a conflict between the person who wishes to go upwards and the wind that blows him downwards. The wind that blows a person downwards is continually felt. It is felt at every moment by the person who takes a step on the path of progress. It is a conflict with the self, it is a conflict with others, it is a conflict with conditions-conflicts that come from all around, till every bit of that Mahatma is tested and tried, till every bit of his patience is exhausted and his ego is ground. A hard rock is turned into a soft paste—then appears the personality of a Mahatma. As a soldier in the war has so many wounds, and still more impressions which remain in his heart as wounds, such is the condition of this warrior who goes on the spiritual path. Everything stands against him: his friends, who may not know it, his foes, conditions, the atmosphere, the self. And therefore the wounds that he has to experience through this struggle, and the impressions that he receives through it, make him a spiritual personality, a personality which becomes an influence, a power, a personality which is difficult to resist, which is overwhelming. The next category of Mahatma is the one who learns his lesson by passivity, resignation, sacrifice, love, devotion and sympathy. There is a love that is like the light of the candle: blow, and it is gone. It can only remain as long as it is not blown, it cannot withstand blowing. There is a love that is like the sun that rises and reaches the zenith, and then sets and disappears. The duration of this love is longer. And there is a love that is like divine Intelligence, that was and is and will be. The closing and the opening of the eyes will not take away intelligence; the rising and the setting of the sun will not affect intelligence; the lighting and the putting out of the candle does not affect intelligence. When that something which through the winds and storms endures and through the rise and fall stands firm—when that love is created—then a person's language becomes different; the world cannot understand it. Once love has reached the Sovereign of love, it is like the water of the sea that has risen as vapor, has formed clouds over the earth, and then pours down as rainfall. The continual outpouring of such a heart is unimaginable; not only human beings, but even birds and beasts must feel its influence, its effect. It is a love that cannot be put into words, a love that radiates, proving the warmth it has by its atmosphere. This resigned soul of the Mahatma may appear weak to someone who does not understand, for he takes praise and blame in the same way and he takes all that is given to him, favor or disfavor, pleasure or pain—all that comes-with resignation. For the third category of these high souls there is struggle on the one hand and resignation on the other, and this is a most difficult way of progress: to take one step forwards, and another step backwards, and so to go on. There is no mobility in the progress, because one thing is contrary to the other. On one side power is working, on the other side love; on one side kingliness, on the other side slavery. As the great Ghaznavi said in a Persian poem, “I as an emperor, have thousands of slaves ready at my call. But since love has kindled my heart, I have become the slave of slaves.” On the one hand activity, on the other hand passivity. The first example of the Mahatma may be called the master, the next the saint, and the third the prophet. With the Paramatma we come to the third stage of the awakening of the consciousness, and the difference that it makes is this: an ordinary person, Atma, gives a greater importance to the world and a lesser importance to God; the illuminated person, Mahatma, gives a greater importance to God and a lesser importance to the world; but the third person, the Paramatma, gives and does not give importance to God or to the world. He is what he is. If you say, “It is all true” he says, “Yes, it is all true.” If you say, “All is false and true he says, “Yes, it is all false and true.” If you say, “Is it not true?” he says, “Yes, it is not true.” If you say, “All is false and not true” he says, “Yes, all is false and not true.” His language becomes gibberish, you can only be puzzled by it, for communication in language is better with someone who speaks your language. As soon as the other person's word has a different sense, his language is different; it is a language foreign to what you speak in your everyday life. The Paramatma's “yes” may be “ no” his “no” maybe “yes”: a word means nothing to him, it is the sense. And it is not that he has got the sense, he is the sense: he becomes that which the other man pursues. The Buddhistic term Nirvana means the stage where a person arrives at God-consciousness or all-consciousness. It is at this stage that a soul arrives. And why should not man have that privilege? If man has not that privilege, how can God have it? It is through man that God realizes His perfection. As man God becomes conscious of His Godship, and it is in this gradual progress—to begin as a soul and to arrive at that realization which makes that soul a divine soul-that lies the purpose of life. The whole creation is purposed to bring about that realization. It is that realization which is recognized by the name Rasul. You may ask, “If one soul has arrived at this realization, what is it to us?” But it is not the one: it is one and all at the same time. The Prophetic Tendency—The Prophetic Mission I will give an explanation of two questions which I have very often been asked: What was the object of the prophetic mission? Why is it necessary for man to be taught by another, by his fellowman? Why cannot each one find within himself the way to the light, to illumination? The prophetic tendency exists in every part of the manifestation. Among the jinn and the heavenly beings there is the prophetic tendency and also in every part of nature: in the mineral and vegetable kingdoms, among the animals as well as among men. There would be no diamond mines in the earth if there were not one spark of a diamond which causes every other atom of the earth with which it comes in contact to become a diamond. It is the same with the ruby. The diamond wants to make everything else become a diamond; the ruby wants to make every other atom into a ruby. Among the plants in the jungle-not where man has planted and sown, but in the jungle which has not been touched—you will see that if there is one mango tree, it will make a thousand mangoes grow; if there is one fragrant flower, a thousand fragrant flowers will be near it; if there is one sweet fruit, there will be hundreds of sweet fruits. Among the animals there are many instances of this tendency of which I will tell you some cases that I have seen. Sometimes in India the monkeys come to a village from the forest and break down all the roofs of the houses. There is always one among them who is the leader. When he jumps, all the other monkeys jump after him; when he wants to go back to the forest, they all want to go back to the forest. In India there are the Jams; their religion is harmlessness: to be harmless to every creature. When the Jains cook their food, they prepare some for themselves, some always for the priest and, if they can afford it, also a little for the animals. In every street of a town we have dogs, ten, twelve, twenty-five dogs, according to the length of the street. The dogs are fed in this way; everyone is their master, and everyone feeds them. Among the dogs there is always one who is the leader. When a dog from another street appears, the dogs all collect behind their leader and when he barks they all bark; when he attacks they all attack, and so they drive the other dog away. In the Northern provinces near Nainital and in Nepal, at the foot of the Himalayas, there is a jungle in which there are elephants. The people have many ways of catching them, and one way is to dig a small pit and cover it over with branches. Then they hang their swing-like nets up in a tree, and they stay for some days and watch for the elephants. They are happy in the trees, because the climate permits it. Then if a herd of elephants happens to go that way and an elephant puts his foot into the pit, he goes down, he cannot help himself. Then he cries out; the other elephants look on from a distance, but are afraid to come near, and the men have a kind of fireworks with which they frighten them away if they do. Now in a troop of elephants there is always one who walks in front. He holds a stout branch in his trunk and hits the ground with it before every step he takes to see whether there is a pit. He knows a thousand other dangers and he knows this danger too. Then if the ground is safe he goes forward and all the others follow him. They have such confidence in him that wherever he goes they go too. This shows that the tendency to leadership exists among the elephants, the tendency to self-sacrifice. The elephant who is the leader goes first, thinking, “If there is a pit I may fall in, and the other elephants will be safe.” He never goes anywhere where it is not safe, and if some elephant is caught, it is some small elephant which has no sense and does not follow the leader. in Nepal the Maharaja had an elephant who was a leader of elephants. He was in the Maharaja's house and the Maharaja gave orders that no one should ride him but he himself, because he honored the elephant, recognizing his qualities. I have seen this. Whenever Maharaja Bir Shamsher went into the forest elephant hunting this elephant was taken too. The Maharaja had named him Bijill, lightning. He was a very small elephant, but when they failed to make a catch he was sent out and, when another elephant saw him, he at once followed him. So Bijill always came back with another elephant-such was his magnetism. He did not like to catch elephants, because he had the quality of mercy. He would never go unless he was forced by the mahouts, and when he saw the other elephants he turned his head away. Even among the animals there is this prophetic tendency. Sometimes we see this prophetic tendency in parents. Whatever way they themselves may have followed, they wish to train their child the best way for the higher way. Sometimes it is found in a friend. Whatever undesirable way he may have followed himself, he wishes to save his friend from it. It is only the chosen ones, the blessed souls, who have this tendency. It is not in every child's parents that this tendency is found, nor in every friend. To have such parents, such a friend, is the greatest blessing. To come now to the question what was the object of the prophetic mission I will say that the evolution of men was very much nearer to the animals in ancient times than it is now. They thought only of eating and drinking and of taking the best things from another, caring nothing about the result of their actions, unless they were awakened from this animal existence. In India, in the villages and small towns there are watchmen who go through every street, calling, “Awake, awake, lest thieves come!” They call at twelve o'clock, at one o’clock, at two o'clock, at three o’clock, all night. The prophets were sent to awaken. When a person cannot wake up in the morning of his own accord, then the alarm-clock awakes him. The prophets were this alarm. Sometimes power was needed to arouse people; then the prophet was a king, like Solomon. Sometimes beauty appealed most; then Joseph came whose appearance, whose face was so beautiful that all hearts were melted by his magnetism. It has always been the intention of the divine Power to send that prophet whom the time needed. When a venerable life was revered there was Jacob, whose life was so venerable that all bowed before him. When music was most admired David came, who was gifted with a beautiful voice, who played the harp and gave his message in song. Thus every prophet came in the manner that the age could understand. Man is the aim of the creation and the highest being, because it is man alone who knows the purpose for which he was manifested, the reason why he is here. Cats and dogs do not know this, because their intelligence is not developed enough for this, and also because their self is before their eyes. The prophets had renounced their self. That is why they were prophets. When the self is gone, then all the other selves come. When the self is before the eyes, then the soul is blinded. Every other being in the manifestation wants to become man. The jinn want to become man, the rocks want to become man, the plants want to become man, the animals want to become man. If you go to a riverbed and take up the pebbles, how many pebbles do you not find that show the human face. Sometimes the nose is absent, sometimes the lips are absent, but a partial face you will often find; sometimes they have cracks and lines showing it. What a great thing this shows us: everything is striving to become the human face, to become man. But it is not man as he is that the divine power wishes to produce. The man we want is not the man eating, drinking and sleeping like the animals. If man wishes to know what he should be, he should compare himself with the animals: if he eats, they also eat; if he drinks, they also drink; if he sleeps, they also sleep. They have their passions and hatred and anger just as he has. If he has only that, then he is not man. It is only in man that kindness, sympathy, discipline, self-sacrifice, meekness, humility, and such qualities are found. And if we see any of them in animals, in dogs, cats, horses and cattle—such as faithfulness in the dog, obedience and courage in the horse—it is only the reflection of man, their association with man. Then there is responsibility. Man alone has the sense of responsibility. Animals do not have it. About this a Hadith says, “We sent Our burden upon the mountains, and the mountains refused. We sent Our burden upon the plants, and the plants refused. We sent Our burden upon the animals, and the animals ran away at the sight of it. We sent Our burden upon man, and he accepted it.” This means that only man has taken the responsibility for his actions. Then a Sura says, “Verily, man is cruel and foolish.” Foolish, because he has taken upon himself that which is God's. There are many who run away from marriage, because they think that a wife and children are a responsibility. They do not think that wife and children are God's and that He takes care of what is His. Cruel, because he uses his will and strength—which are God's—to harm others. Our will, our strength are God's, and yet we say “ my” and “ mine;” we claim them for ourselves. The watchman calls from night till morning. In the day the alarm-clock is not needed because it is day. The prophets were sent from night till morning. They came with the same message under different names. The same divine wisdom spoke in each of them, but if a Hebrew had been asked, “Do you recognize Krishna and Rama?” he would have said, “I have never heard of Krishna and Rama. I recognize Moses because that is written in my book” If a Hindu was asked, “Do you recognize Moses or Christ?” he would say, “No, I recognize Rama and Krishna and Vishnu and the Vedanta. You may keep Christ and Moses, I will keep Rama, Krishna and Vishnu.” There are some who prefer the Kabbala to the Bible, they recognize the Kabbala. If you ask a Roman Catholic he will say, “If there is any church it is mine; They have all recognized the name, the personality; they have not recognized the truth. They want to keep Krishna in the temple, Christ in the church, and Moses shut up in the synagogue. That is why so many now are seeking for the truth. In each age the message was revealed more and more; in accordance with the world's capacity to hear it-until the last and plainest revelation, the message of Muhammad, the seal of prophecy. After this no more prophets were needed. The world was awakened to the understanding of the true reality. Now is not the time to wait for the coming of another prophet; now is the time to awaken to the truth within ourselves, and if there is a friend who has gone this way before, now is the time to ask his advice. The Sufi's work is not to interfere with anyone's religion, nor to force a belief upon anyone. He does not say, “Believe this.” The murshid is a friend and a guide. He advises, he does not force anything upon you. You may be a Christian-I was not born in a Christian family, but no Christian is more touched than I am by the words of Christ that I read. If they are rightly understood, they alone are enough to make you a saint. They say that in the end he was crucified upon the cross, but I say that from his birth onward every moment of his life was a crucifixion. For the souls of the prophets the world is too rough, their hearts are too tender for it. No Brahmin has studied the Vedanta with more interest than I have. If you know Brahma, if you know God, you are a Brahmin. Whether the Brahmin recognizes you or not is another matter. The Sufi says, “You wish to know about illumination, about revelation? You wish to know about inspiration? This is the way for you to follow: believe as much as your intelligence allows you to believe, as much as you can reach. Do not believe what your intelligence does not allow you to believe.” He recognizes one divine wisdom in all the prophetic messages. He sees the same infinite Being speaking through all in different forms and names through all ages. It is just as if one had the photograph of one's sweetheart at different ages: at twelve, at twenty, at thirty, at forty. The photographs are different, but it is the same sweetheart. Points of View held by Spiritual Persons There are persons who look at life picturing it as a school, and it is true that life is as a school. How much evolved one may be, there is not one day that one does not learn something new; from the most unevolved person to the most evolved one this can be seen. The more one realizes that life is a school, the more one learns from it, and if one does not learn from it then it is a school just the same. In this way one can justify the divine Spirit in letting every soul grow through different experiences: through the path of pain and pleasure there is something to be learned. One must not think that the divine Being does not teach the one who lives in pleasure. Therein is a teaching for him, and for the one who is in pain there is a teaching in pain. Very often those who think that they can correct someone, that they can teach someone, that they can guide a person, that they can direct someone, are apt to forget that they may do quite the wrong thing. If a thief was told by his uncle not to steal, not to go and do his work and if he was held back, that only means that he would go and do it the next week. But if he goes and robs, if he is arrested by the police, if he is taken to prison and stays there for three years, then he has learned his lesson. His uncle could not teach him; it is life, it is circumstances that must teach him. It is the experience through which he has to go that teaches man. Often one feels that it is unjust on the part of destiny to put one into conditions that seem very cruel, and one thinks that it would be kinder on the part of destiny to teach without troubling. But what, after all, is trouble? There are no such things as pleasure and pain; only the comparison between them makes them so. In other words, if there was no pain one would not be capable of enjoying pleasure, and if there was no pleasure one would not be capable of experiencing pain. If that is true, then to the degree to which one is capable to experience pain, to the same degree one is able to experience pleasure. The one who cannot experience pain cannot experience pleasure. The stone has nothing, it has neither pleasure nor pain. It is the relativity, it is the relation, the comparison between two experiences which makes them distinct, but the one cannot be distinct without the other. Therefore there is the necessity of both experiences. Besides, it is very interesting to see that for one person it is necessary to go through pain and trouble and effort in order to come to a certain success or accomplishment, and for another to come to the same experience there is no pain, no trouble, it is easy. One might think, “Why is it easy for one person and why is it so difficult for the other one?” It is difficult because the soul needs that difficulty; it is the need of the soul, it is the want of the soul. There is a belief that the nightingale sits on a thorn in order to cry so melodiously. If you look into the lives of those who go through troubles and sufferings, you will find that unconsciously they seek trouble, they look for it. Not consciously; consciously they would run away from it, but unconsciously they look for it, because it is good for their souls, it is meant for them. If they did not have it, they would not reach satisfaction. It is so interesting to watch how every soul is looking for trouble. It is not so interesting that every person is seeking pleasure, but it is most interesting to see how every one is seeking his pain, looking out for it. Tagore says: “When the string of the violin was being tuned it felt the pain of being stretched, but once it was tuned then it knew why it was stretched.” So it is with the human soul. While the soul goes through pain, torture and trouble it thinks that it would have been much better if it had gone through life without it. But once it reaches the culmination of it then, when it looks back, it begins to realize why all this was meant: it was only meant to tune the soul to a certain pitch. Very often the foolish, those who have no responsibility, who have no sense of duty, who have no ideal, who have no principle, seem to enjoy life more than those with an ideal, with principles, with a sincere heart, with a faithful spirit. Those who desire to do good, those who desire to serve—it is they who go through pain and suffering. This only means that it is not the dead souls who are tried; their time is to come, their time will come. But the living souls are tried and tested according to the degree of their development and they are raised to a higher consciousness—even if it was necessary to stretch the string of their souls. In order to tune the string it must be stretched. Then there is the point of view held by some spiritual persons that life is a puppet show—and that is true also. Today a person is rich, to-morrow he becomes poor; today a person comes to power, to-morrow he is thrown down; today he comes to great fame and position, to-morrow he is despised and forgotten. If we look at this world more keenly and with open eyes, we shall find that it is a puppet show. There is a hand behind it which makes one doll a king, another doll a queen or a servant; it is only a night's play, in the morning they are all dolls. There is a story of a dervish who spoke with a young man who was very interested in his words of wisdom. The young man said, “If I come to your part of the world, I will come to see you. Will you tell me where you live?” The dervish replied, “I live in the place of the liars.” This young man thought, “He is a wise man, he makes such a deep impression upon me. I cannot understand that he lives in the place of the liars. It seemed to me that every word he spoke was truth.” When he went to that country and asked for the dervish, the people said, “We do not know any place of liars, but there is a dervish living somewhere here.” So they took him near the graveyard where the dervish lived. The first question the young man asked was, “Why did you give me a name which is not the name of the place?” The dervish replied, “Yes, this is a place of liars.” It was the graveyard. He said, “Come with me, I shall show you. This here is a tomb, they say, of a general. Where is his sword, where is his power, where is his voice, what is he now? Is he a general? Here, this one was called a prime-minister. Where is his ministry, where is his office, where is his pen, where is his power? in the same ground! This person was called a judge. Whom is he judging now? He is in the ground. Were they not liars? Did they not tell a lie saying 'I am so and so, and I am such and such'?” This is the point of view of those who look at life as being a puppet show. Then there is a third point of view: to look at life as if it was a play going on on the stage, with the actors all dressed up as the king, the servant, the minister, the judge, but when they come away from the stage, they have only performed their part in the story. They are nothing, but while they are on the stage it is their duty to perform the role which they are meant to perform. So one understands that one is performing the role of a king, of a thief or of a judge, of a servant or of a prince. It only means that it is meant so; it is written in the story that it should be performed like this. It is a play that we all perform in the whole universe, and each takes part in this play, a certain part which is given to him—maybe a desirable part or an undesirable part. Only the one who sees it in this light sees that it is a stage on which a play is performed, and the one who does not see it in this light thinks that it is really like this. His life is most difficult. Then there is again another point of view—that of Hafiz-that every soul is drunken. It has drunk its ideal, its principle, its inspiration, its ambition, its thought, its feeling; it is all a drink. A person who despises another one-it is a drink he has in him; that intoxication makes him despise. A person who loves someone-it is a drink, he has drunk that bowl, he is in that intoxication. If one praises someone, one has drunk the bowl of beauty. If a man has revenge against someone, it only means that he has drunk the bowl of revenge. This life is a wine-press; from that wine-press each person takes that wine which is made for him. The one who looks at it all as a cafe where everyone is drinking, that person is called sober. He sees each person intoxicated, and he too chooses his wine—but he chooses it, he drinks the wine and at the same time knows that it is wine. There is another point of view, the point of view of the madzub: that every head has a madness, a certain madness, be it of a higher or a lower kind. Why is it madness? Because it is unique, it is distinct and it is different: every head has a different thought, an idea different from others. We call mad someone who has an idea different from others. But every person has an idea different from others. Knowing this the madzub tries to act as mad, because he thinks, “When I am among the mad, then I too must act as mad.” But the one who tries to act as mad, is not mad; because he is acting as mad it is different. Then there is still another point of view of the spiritual soul, and that is that humanity is to be pitied. The wrongdoer must be pitied for his doing wrong, and the welldoer must be pitied because he does not know how to do better. The foolish one must be pitied because he does not understand better, and the clever one must be pitied because he is not wiser. The spiritual soul thinks that humanity is a process of development of the lower creation, that all that exists in the lower creation is to be found in humanity-passion, anger, wrath, spite, vengeance—and that everyone does not only cause harm to others, but also to himself. One can only enjoy life when one has got rid of all these things and does not harm others by his character. Therefore the one who has this point of view, instead of concerning himself with others, concerns himself with his own being and tries to make himself free of all these things in order to experience the joy that comes from it, proving to the world the teaching of harmlessness. This same principle is followed by some others who look at it in a different light. They think that to please man is to please God, and to please God is to please man. Therefore in speaking, in acting or in thinking they do all they can to avoid causing hurt or harm to another person. In trying to do everything to please and to serve mankind they think that it is a service to God. What is lacking today in the world is idealism. Where does idealism come from? From deep thought. Today life in general keeps man so busy in his occupation, in his profession, in his work of everyday life, that he has no time to think deeply and better; he does not find his ideal. Among a thousand persons there is perhaps one person who has an ideal and knows what ideal he has. All the others do not know it, they do not have an ideal. Besides, it is not only to have an ideal, but it is necessary to know the ideal and to attain to the ideal, to develop towards it, to unfold oneself towards the ideal. It is that in which lies life's fulfillment. Ideals are of five different kinds. There is a certain principle which is a person's ideal, and if he can live that principle he has lived his ideal. There is a certain action which is a person's ideal; if he has accomplished that action then his ideal is fulfilled. There is a belief which is a person's ideal, and if he is able to keep to that belief he has fulfilled his ideal. There is a certain height to which a person wishes to reach, and that mark which he wishes to reach is his ideal. The fifth ideal is a person in whom is a man's ideal, and when all the attributes which that person has are attained then that ideal is fulfilled. But all these five ideals are as five stepping-stones to the shrine of God. The greatest ideal, the highest ideal is the ideal of God. It is not necessary—and yet it is most necessary—that there should be a stepping-stone to go to the altar of God. Without this stepping-stone many are lost. It is often a very rigid soul who will say, “God is my ideal. I do not care for any other ideal.” It comes from his rigidness, for it only means that he does not wish for the ladder; he wishes to jump from the ground to the next floor. The ideal of God is the perfect ideal, and in order to reach it there must be a footstool, there must be a ladder, there must be a steppingstone which leads to it—be it a principle, be it a belief, be it an action, be it a position, be it a person. It is the poetic nature that is inclined to have an ideal; it is the artistic nature that has the love of ideal; it is the musical tendency to look for an ideal. Therefore ideal is attached to higher intelligence. The lower a person's evolution the less he is inclined to an ideal; the higher the person is evolved the more he is inclined to an ideal. If those great ones-kings, generals, writers, poets, musicians—have really accomplished something great and made an impression upon humanity, it was because of their ideal. Without an ideal, whatever one has done is nothing. In the first place one cannot accomplish something without an ideal. If one did so, it would be nothing. A machine has finished something: there is no ideal in it. Ideal therefore is like the breath of life; ideal therefore is the lift that takes you upwards. Then there are some who say, ' 'Yes, I have my ideal in a person, but that person does not come up to my ideal. I am sorry, but I shall turn my back upon him.” It will always be like that. What is a person? A person is limited. The ideal is perfect. Therefore in order to retain your ideal you will have to make the person out of your own devotion, out of your love, your sympathy. Give to the person what is lacking, then that ideal is made. For instance, the great teachers of humanity, Buddha, Muhammad and Christ, what are they to those who do not follow them? Nothing. But to those who follow them they are everything. Why? Because their followers have made them out of their devotion; they have taken the name and then they have made their ideal out of their devotion. When a Buddhist says, “Buddha was God, and Buddha was the Lord, and all beautiful attributes were in Buddha it only means that he has taken all the beautiful attributes of Buddha and has added all kinds of beautiful things. But how much can the idealist add? There is endless beauty. It is only for his own conviction, for his devotion, for his development that he makes his ideal as perfect as possible, and it is the same with the devoted followers of any teacher of humanity. But if people said, “We are going to analyze what the teacher taught. What he said was this.... Another teacher says another thing and a third one says something else; so it is all different.” That again is another outlook. They never have an ideal. Now many study theology in colleges and universities. Do they have that ideal? Never. They say, “What Buddha said is quite right. But there is something else here in the Bible which is different from it. What Muhammad said, well, one cannot apply it to practical life, and he is of quite a different kind.” When they begin to analyze the ideal it is an analyzing of books. Their ideal is no ideal, their ideal is in the books, and one day they will get above it or beneath it. If they rise they rise above it, and if they fall they fall beneath it. But when one comes to the ideal—it belongs to devotion, it belongs to love. It is the same as what Majnun said about Leila, his beloved girl. When people asked Majnun, “What is Leila? She is not so beautiful, she is like any other girl” Majnun replied, “In order to see Leila you must borrow my eyes.” That is what the ideal teaches. Analyzing and idealizing are two different things. If you analyze you are in quite a different sphere. If you analyze something you can say it in words; if you idealize you rise above words. The whole world is going downwards because of the lack of an ideal, and if there is any hope of the betterment of humanity, it is not through better economical conditions; it is not so that, if political conditions were better, the world would be happy. No, never, because that thirst, that hunger for money and that avariciousness will want just the same. If the labor-man came in the place of the government, if the laborer became a capitalist, and the capitalist a laborer, if the whole world became aristocratic, or if the whole world became democratic, that would not take away the trouble of the world. If there is anything that will raise the world, it is the ideal. If the ideal is given in different directions and to different individuals, and if humanity wakens to a higher ideal-that only can be the source of the betterment of humanity. Higher Spiritualism By higher spiritualism we do not mean that which is occupied with occult, curious or magical phenomena. Such spiritualism keeps man away from progress. Higher spiritualism is that in which the soul is enkindled and illuminated. The petals and leaves and thorns of the rose are all different, and yet there is one rose; the spirit of the rose is one, these parts are so many aspects of the rose. In the same way all spirits are different, but are the outcome of the one real Spirit. In reality there is only one Spirit and it is only because of a sense of illusion that there seem to be many spirits; every ray of the sun is accounted as separate from every other. The whole world is wonderful and we need hardly take special steps to find wonders and miracles by going to seek special phenomena. There is no end to the wonders around us! Our life consists of so few days that, if we realized the privilege of life and were thankful for its opportunities, we should devote our time to attaining what every soul really longs for, rather than taking interest in the curious and the occult. After all, those phenomena do not differ from the everyday phenomena we call natural. Human character, human life, the breath we take, our states of pleasure and displeasure, of like and dislike-what are they all but phenomena? The craze for a particular phenomenon leads us to overlook that the whole universe is activity. Christ was not pleased when asked to show a miracle. He did not summon the angels to satisfy the curiosity of his disciples. It was spiritual illumination which was their real need. However good an education may be, it does not follow that the soul is kindled and, unless the soul is illuminated, how can it illumine another soul? When two such souls should meet it is as lighting a candle. But a match will not kindle a piece of iron; it requires very much heat to do so. So souls which are not awake are very difficult to illumine. Persons may quarrel and fight over what they believe and disbelieve, but were the soul kindled such fighting would be found to be of no avail. Forms will always be different; it is the real meaning and essence which is unchanging. Seers are always united in their thoughts because they perceive that the truth is one, and the Spirit is one; other persons have only knowledge of names and forms. When there is only one Spirit and one life, how can there be two knowledges? The spirit of Buddha's teaching, of Solomon's teaching, of Christ's teaching always point to the same meaning, and yet how different their words and how different their lives. Even of one person or of one picture ten persons will have different ideas. This world of variety, always changing as it is, cannot be the basis of unanimity. Only when we come to a knowledge of the One Being can we be led to higher spiritualism. Those souls who have departed from this life in the absorption of the vision of God, the Only Being, who have directed their love towards humanity so as to draw humanity towards heaven-all these are now not only in the vision of God, but they are bestowing their blessing and bliss upon you. All those blessed souls are linked to one another. As from one taper every lamp in the world might be kindled, so from the higher Spirit we call God we derive our life, our light, the life eternal. He is the illumination of all the saints; He is the friend and ideal of all. The light which He directs through all the different spirits runs in one current from the souls of the blessed to the souls of the illuminated ones on earth. There can be no higher spiritualism than this. Since the current is from the one Spirit-even though it reaches us through many, or whether it reaches us from a man, plant, animal, sun or moon, or from whatever apparent source-why seek to differentiate in our search instead of going at once to the source of the current, to the unity rather than among the variety which is illusion? But only those who have reached a certain evolution can realize the next step in this evolution. It is for us to awake only those who are about to awake and allow to sleep peacefully those who are yet fast asleep. They must not be awakened before their sleep is over; they have not had enough, they will feel inclined to awake some other time. It would be like taking a child to a dangerous electric machine. Not only would the child be hurt, but it would spoil the sensitive mechanism of the machine, or it might even destroy a whole factory. The attempt to reform the whole world because one has found out one aspect of the truth is to try and awaken great numbers of people who are not ready to be awakened. Let them sleep on. The ultimate end of the sleepers is the same. They cannot go astray; in the journey through the world of changing experiences they can still know they are going on well. The heart will be enkindled and the torch will be given by which to guide them along the higher paths, and some day all will have found the higher spiritualism when they enter into the joy of the Lord. The Process of Spiritual Unfoldment It is not so that only a certain soul who is meant to unfold evolves. Every soul evolves in its own time; only the rhythm of the soul's progress depends upon the speed with which it evolves. Whether a person is inclined to evolve or not, the inner inclination of his soul is to continue its process of unfoldment. Therefore, if among a thousand persons only one can be seen taking the spiritual path, the remaining ones are evolving just the same. It is before our eyes that we see such distinctions as some people going upwards and some downwards, some going forwards and others backwards; in reality all are going forwards, some slowly, others more rapidly. There are four different ways in which people evolve. One form of evolution is advancing like a drunken man who does not know where he is going, whether he is on the right or on the wrong path. He does not look around, he is enjoying his drink; he is joyful, just passing through life. It is the condition of souls who do not know where they are going and where they have come from. They do not see what is beautiful and what is not beautiful, they do not try to distinguish between right and wrong. Drunken by life's absorption they journey along life's path and, falling down a thousand times, they arrive one day at the same destination. It is wrong to think that sinners and wrongdoers-whom we make so by our man-made laws—are deprived of the bliss of spiritual attainment. They attain it just the same, only they arrive in their own time, and sometimes a drunken man walks more quickly and may arrive before another person who is not drunken. We cannot always judge who is going to arrive first. Nevertheless, the drunken man may have his own joy, the joy of intoxication, but he is deprived of the other joy that the sober one experiences, the joy of seeing all the beauty that can be noticed on the way, and the bliss of taking every step in life with open eyes. Intoxicated with the wine he has taken and caring little for anything else he is deprived of that bliss. Such is the picture of life: many go along the path of life like drunks without admitting it. Even a drunken man will not say, “I am drunk.” He is quite sure of his feet. Another one is taken to the goal while asleep. Imagine! This person was journeying through a beautiful nature, but instead of looking at the beauty he is asleep. He will arrive at the same destination but has not taken the opportunity of enjoying all the beauty there is to be seen. Nevertheless, he will arrive where he is bound to. The third form of evolution is that of the person who goes along this path indifferent to it. He also will arrive at the same destination, but because of his indifference he forgets and is unable to experience many things that he could have experienced with sympathy. Many do not notice the beauty that is to be found in the world. The fourth way is that of the person who journeys with open eyes and heart, enjoying everything he sees. His coming to the goal is a great benefit: he has fulfilled the purpose of life. Therefore it is this particular way that may be called the spiritual path. It is the path one can tread with open eyes and heart, with sympathy and trust. Whether there is sorrow or joy or happiness, one can enjoy all things in life, everything has its beauty. However much a person seems uninclined to spiritual attainment, yet there is a continual craving going on in the depth of his being. When he feels that irritation he thinks, “What is the matter? Perhaps I have not enough money. That is my trouble.” He then goes and works, he wants to collect money in order to be happy. Another one feeling that irritation thinks, “I am lonely, I must find a friend who will make my life happy.” A third one thinks, “I should have a big position, a high office. That is what troubles me. If I had it, I would be happy.” No one of them knows the real reason of that irritation and, as by scratching irritation grows more and more, so by trying to satisfy the craving they feel in their soul—the craving to attain something without knowing what they want-it grows too. They have one thing and another and then see that they are more and more dissatisfied; the further they go in the pursuit of satisfaction, the more dissatisfied they become. This is not the case of one or two persons; there is hardly one person among a thousand who, having realized the pursuit of all these different things and having attained them, feels satisfied. These are perhaps means of going forwards, but they are not the goal, they bring no satisfaction. Do you think that a poor man, if money was left to him, would be contented? His irritation would grow more and more in some way or other, because it is caused by something else: it is the craving of his soul to attain a harmonious condition. There is a story in Arabia of a dervish who came before Alexander the Great asking, “Will you fill my little cup with golden coins?” Alexander thought the little cup was a small thing to fill with gold coins. He asked his treasurer to fill it, but as the treasurer began to do so, the more coins were poured into it the wider the cup appeared. It seemed that it would never be full, always a place was left open to be filled. Alexander was much surprised and thought, “If this continues all my treasure will be taken.” He asked, “Oh dervish, what magic cup do you have here? What is it?” The dervish answered, “This is the cup of the desire of man. This cup is always empty and the more you fill it the more empty it becomes; it is never filled.” Desire for wealth, power, position, for pleasure and comfort, for all things belonging to this world, is continuously there. The irritation felt in the soul man attributes to desire, thinking, “The restlessness, the dissatisfaction I feel comes from lack of this or that” and so he spends his time going on from one thing to another. He is wrong, for wherever he arrives, whether he is successful or not, in both cases the irritation never ceases. It continues when a person begins his progress in the spiritual line. Many people may say today, “Oh, but I am practical which means that they do not believe in dreams or in anything spiritual. Yes, they can say it today, but tomorrow they will not say it. It is a condition; one says it when one is drunk, when one is intoxicated, but the moment a person becomes sober he begins to feel a craving which remains unsatisfied. Have I not seen during my travels throughout the whole world how scientists-after having made a great name and after having seen much of the world-understanding the realm of reason and logic were still trying to discover something they did not know, some experience they had not made, to find something they had not explored? There is a beautiful story of an old scientist who never believed in God, but whose wife had religion. When the scientist became ill and old and his reasoning faculties and the stiffness he had against spiritual things became loosened, he said to his wife, I wonder if there is anything. I will not believe it, but I should like to know if there is anything else. You never lacked religion, do you think there is something? You are so happy. “ She said, “I am happy in the belief I have.” I cannot have that belief” answered he, “but I have you and what I can share is your happiness.” If one cannot believe directly, belief is taken indirectly. Not only mankind but even birds and beasts are attracted to an illuminated soul. A soul who radiates spirituality, who has realized the meaning of life, can impart his conviction even to the unbeliever who has never believed in soul or hereafter. Even the soul of the unbeliever becomes satisfied, even such a soul is blessed through contact with a person who has realized truth. When the time comes that the intoxication of life begins to diminish and man begins to look at life differently, what comes first is a kind of depression, a kind of disappointment in things and beings. He thinks that all he had considered valuable has lost its value and importance. He begins to see falsehood behind all he had thought was so real and a kind of depression, of disappointment and bitterness begins to come over him. Be not surprised if a thoughtful person shows disappointment and changes his point of view about things he once considered valuable and important. His looking at things from a different point of view is natural. No doubt those who surround him begin to say, “These are the dishes you enjoyed so much, these the things you valued so much a few months ago. What has happened? Some change has come over you!” It is so, a change has come and the person has taken a step forwards. This change, this sort of disappointment he may show more or less. The more thoughtful the person the less he shows it, and the less thoughtful the more he shows bitterness: it is according to his evolution. One person shows his disappointment in tears, another in smiles. The one who shows it in smiles is superior; it is the way one should take in life. Another step leads to the stage of bewilderment. He who has arrived at that stage is no more depressed or disappointed, but amazed at things about which ordinarily no one would be amazed. He is amazed because his eyes are open. Others see the same things, but their eyes are closed, so the same experience does not touch them. This person feels it and wonders about it. There is a continual bewilderment, and what causes it most is human nature, every aspect of human nature, its every turn and twist and its many phenomena. He looks at life, and it becomes so interesting. He need not seek solitude, he stands in the midst of the crowd and yet may enjoy every rub and knock. Every experience, all things amaze him and only make him smile and wonder. All such words as kindness, goodness, love, infatuation, connection have a different meaning for him. One might ask, “Does he become critical and cynical?” No, since he understands, he is much beyond cynicism and criticism, but there is bewilderment, continual amazement at his every experience from morning till evening. Then there is a third stage: as the soul evolves further a man begins to see reason behind reason. So he sees several reasons, one hidden behind the other. There is a reason for everything, whether agreeable or disagreeable, right or wrong. Naturally he then can no more blame one soul in this world; he cannot blame the worst sinner, behind everything he sees its reason. If he sees a thousand reasons in support of someone, whether it is right or wrong, there is nothing for him to say. This makes him naturally tolerant, compassionate, forgiving—not because he thinks that it is kind to forgive, or good to be compassionate or because it is his principle to be tolerant. He is obliged to be so, his inner inclination cannot help being compassionate, cannot but forgive, as in the case of Jesus Christ. When people brought those who were accused of wrongdoings according to the law before the Master, he said, “God will forgive you.” There is not one instance in the life of Christ when he took revenge on anyone, or blamed a person. When a man has understood the reason of all things and develops still further, then comes the realm of sympathy. Then naturally he has no blame for anybody, and that attitude culminates in harmlessness. Buddha says, “The essence of religion is harmlessness, and the moment you have become harmless, you have understood religion.” What is harmlessness? People know so little about it. They think that being harmful means killing someone. But everyone has a meaning of his own for every word. There was a soldier who heard people speaking about kindness and asked, “What is kindness?” They explained to him that it is an attitude and he said, “Once I practiced kindness; my horse was ill and I killed it. A feeling of kindness came over me and I killed it.” When one rises above this realm of forgiveness there comes a natural outpouring of sympathy. At that time a person becomes really sympathetic, for then to feel sympathy is no more his moral, it is his nature; it is not felt intentionally but automatically. There will be an outpouring of sympathy towards everyone who comes into the radiance and atmosphere of such a person. Many people say, “is it not a weakening of the character to become so gentle and sympathetic? Is it not against practical life where we have to be vigorous, hard and crude in order to stand the hardness of life? is it advisable to be so fine, kind and gentle that everyone can get the better of us?” Education today is quite contrary to this idea. The tendency of education is not to let our affairs or ourselves be shaken by the selfish ones of this world among whom we move and who might get the better of us. This is right, but at the same time if each person prepares himself in this way and harms others, without intervention it must end in battle. The manifestation is not made for battle, but we have made it a battleground. The meaning of Adam's exile from paradise, when he was sent into the world of toil, is the same. Man was born to enjoy the harmony and beauty of life, to experience what life means, but he has made paradise into a battlefield, into this world of conflict. It is not so that Adam was exiled, Adam turned paradise into a battlefield. Is it not so that we have made life difficult for ourselves? Is it the pleasure of God that life should be so difficult for us? In professional life, in the life of science or art, of business, commerce or politics, in all aspects there is nothing but continual struggle. If one looks with open eyes, one sees that every new born child will have to find this trouble. It is a struggle! There will come a time before long when it will be difficult to live in this world. Only some few people, very well equipped for strife and struggle and most inclined to conflict, will be able to exist. When today we look with wide-open eyes we see this aspect more keenly. There is no direction of life where it is smooth; it is more and more difficult every moment of the day. There is nothing but competition and conflict, and when there is one manner of action and one rhythm going on throughout the whole of manifestation, those few cannot help having to go through this same way, because life in the world is a mechanism; we have to run in the same way. Besides, even if we know how disadvantageous life proves to be at the present time, do you think that we can strike another line? Life is put into a mechanism; we cannot make another way out of it. The number of lives that has been made miserable and disturbed is so enormous that if we thought about it we would be most unhappy to see their condition. There are many who think that a better time may be brought about by making unions, communities and different brotherhoods. But this cannot be brought about by small efforts. Besides, in such unions and parties struggle again begins, one being against the other. What is most necessary at this time is spiritual awakening of the generality, and every effort should be made to awaken this ideal, to lift the spiritual ideal, to bring peace that will remain and last. It is a mission that can be worthwhile. Everyone of us can do it if we think sufficiently about it. In our own lines-be it in business in politics, or in education-whatever small service we can do we should always render. The main thing we can do is to awake; to awaken ourselves and those around us to a high ideal, to a greater realization of life, and a deeper understanding of truth. The Awakening of the Soul There is an awakening from childhood to youth and from youth to mature age and during this development one's point of view, one's outlook in life changes. Also sometimes in one's life, when one has gone through an illness or a great suffering, at the end of it the whole outlook on life has changed. One also sees that a person who has taken a long journey after having come back has quite changed. Also after a friendship, after a pupilship, after a marriage a sudden change comes in the outlook of a person, and we find that there are some cases where the change is so great that we may say that he is an entirely new person. Seeing this we can divide such changes which may be called developments into three classes. One class pertains to the physical development, another is connected with the development of the mind and the third class with the development of the soul. There are instances in the lives of many—who rarely will say or admit it—that they can recollect experiences in their childhood when in one moment's time their whole outlook on life changed. As ripening is a desired result, it is the result of every object in life to ripen and to develop. Therefore the fulfillment of life's purpose is to be expected in the awakening of the soul. One may ask what are the signs of the soul's awakening. The first sign of this awakening is just like the birth of an infant. From the time of its birth the infant is interested in hearing something, any sound that comes, and in seeing something, a color or light, whatever it be attracted to. And thus a person whose soul has awakened becomes awake to everything he sees and hears. Compared to that person everyone else seems to be with open eyes and yet not to see, to be with open ears and yet not to hear. There are many with open ears, but there is rarely one who hears, and there are many with open eyes, but there is hardly one who sees. It is therefore that the natural seeing of the awakened soul is called clairvoyance and his natural hearing clairaudience. In English there is the simple word “seer” which explains that this person not only has eyes, but together with eyes he has sight. The moment the soul has awakened music makes an appeal to it, poetry touches it, words move it, art has an influence upon it. It no longer is a sleeping soul, it is awake and it begins to enjoy life to a fuller extent. It is this awakening of the soul which is mentioned in the Bible, “Unless the soul is born again it will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Being born again means that the soul is awakened after having come on earth, and entering the kingdom of heaven means that this world, the same kingdom in which we are standing just now, turns into heaven as soon as the point of view has changed. Is it not interesting and most wonderful to think that the same earth we walk on is earth to one person and heaven to another? And it is still more interesting to notice that it is we who change it; we change it from earth into heaven, or we change it otherwise. This change comes not by study, nor by anything else, but only by the changing of our point of view. I have seen people seek after truth, study in books about it, write many books on theology, and in the end they were in the same place where they were standing before. This shows that all outer efforts are excuses. There is only one thing that brings us before reality and that is the awakening of the soul. All tragedy of life, all misery and inharmony are caused by one thing and that is lack of understanding. Lack of understanding comes from lack of penetration. The one who does not see from the point of view from which he ought to see becomes disappointed because he cannot understand. It is not for the outer world to help us to understand life better; it is we ourselves who should help ourselves to understand it better. Then there is a further awakening which is a continuation of what I have called the awakening of the soul. The sign of it is that the awakened person throws a light, the light of his soul, upon every person and every object and sees that object, that condition in this light. It is his own soul which becomes a torch in his hand, it is his own light that illuminates his path. It is just like throwing a searchlight upon dark corners which one did not see before, and the corners become clear and illuminated again. It is like throwing light upon problems that one did not understand at first; it is like seeing with x-rays persons who were a riddle before. Since life becomes clear to the awakened soul it shows another manifestation: every aspect of life becomes communicative with him. The idea is that life is communicating, the soul is communicating, but they do not communicate until a person is awakened. Once a soul is awakened it becomes communicative with life. As a young man I had a great desire to visit the shrines of sages, of great teachers. With every desire of hearing something of them or of asking them something I always held my tongue back. I sat quiet in their presence and had a great satisfaction and felt a greater blessing by sitting quiet there than if I had discussed and argued and talked with them; for in the end I felt that there was a communication which was much more satisfactory than these outer discussions and arguments of people who know not what they discuss. It was enlightening, it was refreshing and it gave that power and inspiration with which one can see life in a better light. Those who are awakened become lights, not only lights for themselves but also lights for others. These may not know it but their light, their presence itself helps to make the most difficult problems easy. This brings us to realize the fact that man is light, as the Scriptures have Said, a light whose origin, whose source is divine. And when this light is raised then life becomes quite different. When the soul is awakened furthermore its condition is then as that of a person sitting in the midst of the night among hundreds and thousands of people who are fast asleep. The picture is that he is sitting among them, standing among them, he is looking at them, hearing of their sorrows, miseries and conditions-hundreds of them moving about in their sleep, in their own dreams, not awake to the condition of the other one who is next to them. They may be friends or relations or acquaintances or enemies; whatever be their relationship, little they know about one another, each one absorbed in his own troubles. This awakened soul standing among them all will listen to everyone, will see everyone, will recognize and realize all they think and feel, but his language no one understands; his thoughts he cannot explain to anyone; his feelings he cannot expect anyone to feel. He feels lonely and nothing else can be felt. No doubt in that loneliness there is a sense of perfection, because perfection is loneliness. When it was said that the apostles knew all languages at the descent of the Holy Spirit, it did not mean knowing the languages of all countries. They knew the language of the soul; for there are several languages which are spoken in different lands, but numberless languages are spoken, as each individual has his particular language. That brings us to realize another idea of very great importance: the outer language can convey only outward things and feelings to one another, but there is an inner language, a language which can be understood by souls who are awakened. It is a universal language, a language of vibrations, a language of feeling, a language which touches the innermost sense. Heat and cold for instance are different feelings which are called by different names in different countries, but inwardly they are the same feelings. So there is love and hate and kindness, harmony and inharmony which are all called by different names in different countries, but their feeling is the same experience for all men. When in order to know the thought of another we depend upon his outer word then no doubt we fall to understand, for perhaps we do not know that person's language. But if we can communicate with him soul to soul we can certainly understand what he means, for before he says a word he has said it within himself, and that word reaches us before it is expressed outwardly. Before the word is spoken the expression says it; before the thought has formed, the feeling speaks of it. And this shows that it is a feeling which forms a thought, a thought which comes as speech. Even before this a feeling existed, and even there it can be caught when one is able to communicate with the soul. This is what may be called communication: to communicate with the innermost being of a person. But who can communicate? The one who knows how to communicate with himself, the one who in other words is awakened. The personality of an awakened soul becomes different from every other personality. It becomes more magnetic, because it is a living person who has magnetism; the dead corpse has no magnetism. It is the living person who brings joy, and therefore it is the awakened soul who is joyous. Never for one moment imagine, as many do, that a spiritual person means a most sorrowful, dried-up, long-faced person. Spirit is Joy, spirit is life, and when this spirit has awakened all the joy and pleasure that exist are there. As the sun takes away all darkness, so spiritual light takes away all worries and anxieties, sufferings and doubts. If spiritual awakening were not so precious what would be the use of seeking it in life? It is a treasure which nobody can take away from you, a light that will always keep and will never be extinguished. That is called spiritual awakening which is the fulfillment of life's purpose. Certainly, the things a person once valued and considered important become less important. They lose their value, and things which are beautiful lose their color. It is just like seeing the stage in the light of the sun; all the big palaces and decorations on the stage mean nothing. No doubt this takes away the slavery to which everyone is put by the things of this world; the awakened person becomes a master, and at the same time he need not give those things up. Optimism develops naturally, but an optimism with open eyes. Power increases, the power of accomplishing things. Then as long as a person has not accomplished something he will go after it however small it is. It is very difficult to judge an awakened soul, as they say in the East, for there is nothing outwardly to prove to you, “this person is an awakened soul.” The best way of seeing an awakened soul is to waken oneself. No one in the world can pretend to be awake when he is still asleep, as a little child by putting moustaches on his face will not prove himself to be a grown-up man. All other pretences may be accepted but not the one of being an awakened soul, for it is a living light which no one can pretend to be. If there is any truth it is in the awakening of the soul, for truth is born in this awakening. Truth is not taught, truth is discovered. Very often people make an effort—but in vain—to awaken a friend or a near relation whom they love. But in the first place we do not know if that person is not more awakened than we ourselves, and we may be trying in vain. And the other point is that a person may be asleep and needs that sleep. Waking him would be a sin instead of a virtue. We are only allowed to give our hand to the one who is turning over in his sleep, who desires to awake. Only then a hand is given. This giving of the hand in esoteric terms is called initiation. No doubt outwardly a teacher who is acquainted with this path may give a hand to the one who wishes to journey, but inwardly there is the Teacher who gives a hand who has always given and always gives a hand to awakening souls, the same hand which has received the sages and masters of all times in a higher initiation. Verily, the seeker will find sooner or later, if only he keeps steady on the path till he arrives at his destination. The words waking and sleeping are familiar to us as we use them in expressing different conditions of life. Really speaking, when we look at it from the point of view of the soul, we sleep and are awake at the same time. For instance when we are looking at a certain thing and our mind is fully absorbed in looking at it, we do not hear things at the same time. And if we are hearing something, absorbed in what we are hearing, when our sense of hearing is focused, our eyes may be open and yet we are not seeing. If that is true it explains to us that when one sense is fully awakened the other senses are asleep. In the same way, when we experience a sensation through the mind the body is absent. The more we look at sleeping and waking from a psychological point of view, the more we shall come to the conclusion that they are not as we understand them, but that every moment of the day and the night we are awake and asleep at the same time. To give another instance: when a person is asleep and experiencing a dream, he is awake to something and yet asleep to the outer things. To one world he is asleep, to the other awake. So one is always asleep and always awake. Sufi Teachings According to the ideas of the mystics there are five stages of consciousness which make one asleep to one stage and awake to another. One state of consciousness is our experience through the senses. In this condition—as we are just now, our eyes ready to see, our ears hearing-we are wakeful to the outside world. This is one aspect of wakefulness. Apart from this aspect which we alone recognize as wakefulness there are four other aspects. The second aspect of wakefulness is when a person is asleep and yet is experiencing life exactly as he does on this plane of the physical world. This is the dream state. We call it dream when we are awake, when we have passed that dream state. At the time of dreaming that state is as real as this state in the physical world; we do not think it is a dream. Nothing that we can find here is lacking in the dream, and even things we cannot find here on the physical plane we can find in the dream state. All the limitation, all we find lacking in this life is provided for in the dream state. All that we are fond Of, all that we would like to be, all we need in our life is easier to find in the dream than in the wakeful state. If we say that after waking up we find the real life and call the other state a dream, and say therefore that it was an imagination without reality, we think that on this physical plane we are awake, that it is real. But is yesterday as real as today? When we look back upon our childhood, from the moment we came on earth all is yesterday; only just now is today. All that is past is yesterday and if it is not a dream, what is it? We need not only recognize what we see in the dream as a dream; all that is past is nothing but a dream as well. It is the “Just now” which gives us the feeling of reality. What we are experiencing-that becomes real to us; what we are not experiencing, what we are not conscious of even at this moment does not exist for us. Only what our senses are conscious of is all the world, is life to us, and all we are unaware of means nothing, does not exist for us. In this way each person has his own life and his own world; we all live in the same world, and each has his own world. Man's world is that of which he is conscious and in this way every person has his heaven and his hell made by himself. He need not wait for heaven and hell afterwards, he has already there what he has made for himself, what he is conscious of. If he is conscious of sorrow and depression, tortures and sufferings, pains and agitations, he lives in all that. He has made a fire for himself and is standing in it; he need not wait till death comes, he is already there. The one who lives in beauty, compassion, affection, forgiveness, appreciation for all that is good and beautiful, has heaven here; he need not wait for afterwards. This again shows that we are in the world to which we are awake, and to the world to which we are not awake we are asleep. We are asleep to that part of life which we do not know. Another experience is that of a man who lives in music, whose thoughts are music, whose imaginations compose music, who enjoys it, to whom music is a language: he lives in the world of music. He lives under the same sun as everybody else, and yet his world is different. It is said that Beethoven who could no more hear with his ears, very much enjoyed the music he read and played, while perhaps another man with good hearing did not hear it. The soul of Beethoven was in music; the music he was playing was in himself, he lived in music and enjoyed it. There is one experience which we make through our five senses, and that is one world, one plane of existence. Then there is another existence which we experience in the dream, and that is a world too. It is a separate world, its law is separate. Those who consider a dream only as a dream do not know the importance, the greatness, the wonders of it. The dream plane is more wonderful than the physical plane, because the physical plane is crude, limited and poor, subject to death and disease. The other plane which one experiences in the dream is better, purer, one has a greater freedom there. Dreams can be divided into four different classes. One dream is a confused repetition of the same experience which we had during the day in wakefulness. However confused the dream may be, whether it be a repetition of all we have done or said in our daytime life, yet this repetition has a meaning, a great meaning. It has an influence in life, it has an effect, as every thought and imagination has an effect. We must not believe that what once we think or imagine is lost. Every thought ever born lives without our knowing, whether good or bad, harmonious or inharmonious. Once it is born it is created and left in the world of thought to live and to have its effect. A dream also is a thought and is as living, or even more so, as is thought in the wakeful state. Therefore every dream, however confused it may seem, once it has appeared before us has a meaning and a certain effect upon our lives. Also the dream in connection with someone else in our lives in one way or another has something to do with that person. There is a second aspect of the dream and that is the contrary dream. It is just like the mirror in which you look short when you are tall, and tall when you are short: just the contrary of what you are. In the same way, if there is unhappiness, weakness waiting for you, you will see yourself in that dream in great glory, and when happiness is awaiting you, you will see yourself in misery. It is a kind of upset condition of the mind that produces quite the opposite to what is going to happen. The third kind of dream is symbolical and it is most interesting to study this aspect of the dream. If a poet has a symbolical dream it is in the poetical realm. If a fine person has a symbolical dream it has fine symbols, for a rigid person it has crude symbols; it is all according to a man's stage of evolution. The more one studies this aspect of the dream the more one marvels at the phenomena of dream-land. The fourth kind of dream manifests from the spirit and is exactly the picture of the future. It may be a picture of something going to happen the next day, next month, next year, or perhaps ten years later. The law of these dreams is that first a person sees a picture of what is going to happen after twenty years. When he advances this comes closer and closer: something going to happen after five years, after one year, after six months, and so on. And then he sees to-night what is going to be to-morrow. That is the realistic dream. The first kind of dream explains the condition of everyday life. That dream comes to a person who is engrossed in his work and has no concentration of mind. He is just like a machine working all day long, and at night he sees his work reproduced before him. The second kind of dream, showing the opposite of what one is, comes to the person whose mind is upset, confused, troubled and puzzled. The third kind of dream, the symbolical dream, comes to a person who is intelligent, intellectual, etherially evolved. The fourth kind of dream comes to someone who is already evolved, spiritual, devotional, loving, kind, forgiving by nature, tenderhearted, of gentle nature. This again tells us that man's reward and punishment is not to be anticipated after death, but given to him every day, every hour of life. Now coming to the third stage of consciousness—this stage lies between spirit and matter. It is this state of consciousness which we experience as the condition of sleep which we call fast sleep, deep sleep, when we do not even dream. There is so little said about it and very few think about it. Once a person studies this question of sleep he will find that it is the greatest marvel in the world. It is a living phenomenon. The rest and peace, vitality and vigor, intelligence and life that come to a man during that time of sleep is beyond explanation. Yet man is so ungrateful, he is never thankful for this experience given to him every day. He is only unhappy when he has lost it; then nothing in the world can satisfy him. No wealth, no comfort, no home, no position, nothing in the world can replace that experience which is as simple as sleeping, which means nothing and yet is everything. The further we study the phenomenon of deep sleep the more we shall come to understand the mystery of life. It gives a key to the mystery of life, because it is an experience of consciousness which divides our spiritual consciousness between the physical and the spiritual world. It stands as a barrier between two experiences: one in this world and one which is reached by spiritual attainment. Our great poet of Persia, Rumi, who has inspired millions of people and whose works are considered in the East as the foundation of higher knowledge, has written about sleep, “0 sleep, it is thou who makest the king unaware of his kingdom; the suffering patient forgets his illness, and prisoners are free when they are asleep.” Imagine how all pains and sorrows and limitations of life, all the tragedy of life, all sufferings and agitations are washed away when one experiences that deep sleep. It is a great pity that the mechanical and artificial life we live today in this world is depriving us of that natural experience of deep sleep. Our first fault is our gathering and living in one city, all crowded together. Then there are motorcars, there are houses of twenty stories shaking every moment of the day and night, every vehicle shaking it. We are a race at the present time which is unaware of the comfort and bliss of the life known to the ancient people who lived simply, who lived with nature, far removed from this mechanical and artificial life. We are so far away from natural life that it has become our habit; we do not know any other comfort except the comfort we can experience in this kind of life we live. At the same time it shows that the soul is capable of attaining to greater comfort, pleasure and joy, to greater peace, rest and bliss only by living naturally. These three stages of consciousness, physical, dream and deep sleep, are each nothing but an experience of the soul in an awakened state. For instance, when a person is awake outwardly he is conscious of the outer world; when he is fast asleep he is awakened to that particular plane while asleep to both dream-land and the physical state. Now you may ask, “If a person who sleeps deeply is awakened to a certain consciousness, why does he not remember it? We think that he is asleep, for if he was awake he should know something about it; if he remembers nothing it means that he was asleep and certainly not awake. To be awake means experiencing something; during deep sleep one does not experience.” When we are looking at a bright light and that bright light is shut off then we see darkness. In reality there is no darkness. If there had not been bright light first there would not be darkness but light; it is the comparison that makes it darkness. Therefore the experience we have in our deep sleep is an experience of a higher and greater nature. It is so fine, so subtle and unusual-our consciousness being accustomed to the rigid experiences of the physical world that the experience we have in that state is too fine to be perceived, too fine to be brought back to the physical world. Every experience can be made intelligible by contrast. If there were no straight line, we could not say high and low, right and left; it is the straight line which makes us recognize them as such. If there were no sun we would not be able to say south, north, east and west. Therefore with every conception there must be some object to focus upon which helps to form our conception. In order to understand deep sleep we have nothing in the physical existence to compare it with and therefore that experience of deep sleep remains only as a great satisfaction, joy and upliftment, as something that has vitalized us and has created energy and enthusiasm in life. This shows that there is something we receive; we do not come empty-handed from there, we have attained something we cannot get here from the physical plane. From there we receive something that we cannot interpret in everyday language-more precious, more valuable and vital than anything from the physical and mental planes. There is a still higher plane or experience of consciousness, different from these three experiences which everybody knows more or less, and this fourth experience is that of the mystic. It is an experience of seeing without the help of the eyes, of hearing without the help of the ears, and experiencing a plane without the help of the physical body—an experience similar to that of the physical body and at the same time independent of it. As soon as one arrives at this experience one begins to believe in the hereafter, for it gives one the conviction that, when the physical body is thrown Off, the soul still remains-independent of the physical body and capable of seeing, living and experiencing even more freely and fully. Therefore this stage of experience is called the consciousness of the mystic. Perhaps you have read in books of Eastern philosophy the words nirvana and mukti, and you have become frightened! Nirvana means to become nothing. You may say, “I do not want to become nothing.” Everyone wants to become something, no one wants to become nothing. Those who want to be something-although that can be taken for nothing!—are so frightened of that idea. I have seen hundreds and thousands who were interested in Eastern philosophy, but when it came to being nothing they found it a difficult idea to grasp and they found it frightening to think, “One day this “I” shall be nothing.” But they do not know that it is the solving of this question which allows one to be; for what man identifies himself with is a mortal thing that will one day expire, and he will no more find himself to be as he had thought himself to be. Nirvana therefore is the fifth and highest consciousness which I am explaining now. The experience of this consciousness is of a similar kind to that of a person in deep sleep. But in the deep sleep one is asleep outwardly, which means in the physical and in the mental body, while in the condition of nirvana, or highest consciousness, a person is conscious all through: he is conscious of the body as much as of the soul. Then the consciousness is so evenly divided while yet he keeps to the highest stage-that at that time the person lives fully. To conclude: what does the soul's awakening mean? The body's awakening means to feel sensation. The mind's awakening means to think and to feel. The soul's awakening means for the soul to become conscious of itself. Everyone is conscious of his affairs, of his conditions of life, of his body, of his mind, but not of his soul. In order to become conscious of the soul one has to work in a certain way, because the soul has become unconscious of itself-, by working through its vehicles—body and mind—it has become unaware of its own freedom, of its own beauty. In the East there is a custom and a belief that the one who sleeps must not be awakened. This is symbolical. Those whose soul is asleep may just as well sleep. If one awakens them they will be sick. It is not their time to awake. If they awake too soon they will be confused, they will act wrongly, speak wrongly. It is therefore that an untimely education of the philosophy of truth always proves to be undesirable. The other day in London a friend of mine came from Ireland. I told this person to stay in a pension near my place which was a pension of the Theosophical Society. My friend came next day to me very surprised and troubled. She said, “I am quite confused. In that pension someone came to me and said, “in my last incarnation you were my aunt.” Then someone else came and said, “You were my sister.” Everyone there was my aunt, or friend, or somebody in a past incarnation, and everyone is claiming to have been a king. No one wishes to have been a poor man.” I said—you know that Indians like humor-”They must have committed a great sin to have come this time as simple people.” That shows how, when we give untimely philosophical education, everything of subtle nature is made simple and is spoiled. Do you think that they speak very much in the East? They have respect, they do not talk, do not argue. All that is of a sacred nature, aspirations that belong to a higher world, they keep among some few who understand them and do not speak about these things. Therefore there is that custom never to awaken those who are asleep. When their time comes then you can give them a hand and they will awake. The first stage in the awakening of the soul is a feeling, “is there not something else that I could know.” He feels dissatisfied with all he knows, with all the knowledge he may have, science, art, philosophy, or literature. He comes to a stage where he feels, “There is something else I must know that books, dogmas and beliefs cannot teach, something higher and greater that words cannot explain. That is what I want to know.” It does not depend upon the age of the person. It may be a child who has that inclination or one who has reached age—and yet does not feel like it. It depends upon the soul. Therefore in the East they call a child an old soul when it begins to show that inclination, when it is not satisfied with the knowledge of names and forms and wants to know something else, although it may not know what it is. Then there comes a second stage, and that stage is bewilderment. imagine, an evolved person being more bewildered than an evolved one! And yet it is so, for he begins to see that things are not as they seem to be but as they are. So there comes a kind of conflict: “What shall I call it: this or that, good or bad, love or hate?” There comes a time when all that was accepted in his mind, all that he believed to be so, appears to be quite the contrary to what it seems to be. His friends, his relations, those whom he loved, wealth, position, all things he had followed, change their appearance and sometimes become quite the contrary to what he had thought. I will give you a little example of this bewilderment. The other day in Chicago a lady came to see me, trembling, in a very sorrowful state of mind. I asked her what was the matter and she said she had had an accident. The house in which she lived had been burnt, she had had to break a window in order to get out, she had hurt her hand, and it had all made a great upset in her life. But then she said, “It is not all that which makes me so upset.” I asked, “What else?” She said, “The way how all my friends and neighbors whom I loved and liked acted at the time when the fire was on, has impressed me so that the whole world is quite different now.” What does this mean? That friendship, relationship, love, devotion may not be the same as they appear when it comes to the time of test. Then there comes a time when a person begins to look at things differently. This reminds me of a word from the Prophet Muhammad, who says in a kind of poetic form, “A witch followed me in the hereafter and I was frightened. I asked, What is this, Lord, that is frightening me? And the answer came, It is the same world that once you adored and worshipped and pursued and thought so much of.” That shows that our consciousness changes our outlook in life; it changes as soon as our soul has opened its eyes. Our whole life changes. We live in the same world, and yet we do not; it is quite a different world then. The next stage after this bewilderment is the stage of sympathy. We begin to appreciate things more and sympathize more, for so far we had walked on thorns and did not feel them, but in this stage we begin to feel them. We see that others are walking on the same thorns, so we forget our pain and begin to sympathize with them. The evolved ones therefore develop sympathy, a natural outgoing tendency. Troubles, sufferings, limitations everyone has to go through, everyone has to face the same difficulties. Not only the good ones, the wicked one has a still greater difficulty: he lives in the same world with his wickedness, he has a great load to carry. So naturally the evolved one becomes forgiving and sympathetic towards him. As one goes further in the soul's unfoldment one finally arrives at the stage of revelation. Life begins to reveal itself, the whole of life, each soul becomes communicative—not only living beings but each thing. They say that the twelve apostles knew all languages. It does not mean that they knew English, French and Italian, but that they knew every soul's language, as every soul has its own separate language. They began to perceive vibrations and so every evolved soul will feel the vibrations of every other soul, and every condition, every soul, every object in the world will reveal its nature and character to him. Sa'adi, the Persian poet, has said, “Once a soul has begun to read, every leaf of the tree becomes as a page of the sacred book of life.” 3The word awakening is merely used for convenience, to make you see it more clearly. In reality the soul is always awake, the soul is never asleep. Day and night are two diverse conditions, they are not conditions of the sun. The sun neither rises nor sets. It is our conception; it is more convenient to speak of the rising and setting of the sun, but if anything rises and sets it is the world, not the sun. So day and night are not conditions of the sun, they are conditions themselves. When the world turns its back to the sun it is night, and when the world turns its face to the sun it is day. It is the same with the soul's awakening. The soul is always awake, but what is it awake to? Someone may be looking with open eyes, but what is he looking at? Upwards or downwards or sideways? He is looking in a certain direction and is conscious of that direction. To speak of the soul's awakening therefore is for the sake of convenience. What part in us is it that may be called soul? Is it our body with its flesh and bones and veins and blood? Is it our mind with its thoughts, imaginations, feelings and emotions? Neither of these. Then what is it? It is something which is beyond the body and beyond the mind. When one asks, “Is it conscious the answer is that it is, but its consciousness is not as we understand it, for we know it as intelligence, as being conscious of something. Everyone does not know what consciousness means, but everyone knows what he is conscious of. For instance, a mirror with a reflection in it is not only a mirror, but it is a mirror in which something is reflected. This means that it is occupied, it is not empty. When a person says “consciousness” he does not think of the original condition of it; he thinks only of the consciousness which is conscious of something. As soon as we distinguish between consciousness and that which it is conscious of we separate them, we see them as two things, just as we can separate the mirror from what is reflected in it. As soon as we realize this we will come to the conclusion that the soul of the wise and the foolish, of the sinner and the virtuous, is one and the same. The wickedness of the wicked and the goodness of the good, the ignorance of the foolish and the wisdom of the wise are apart from the soul; the soul is only conscious of it. At the time when the soul is conscious of it one says, “Here is an ignorant soul” but the soul is the same. It is not the soul which is ignorant or wise; what is reflected in it is ignorant or wise, wicked or virtuous. At the same time we should know that if an elephant looks into a mirror, the mirror is not the elephant, but one can see an elephant in the mirror. If a man does not know what a mirror is he can say, “Here is an elephant” but it is only its reflection; free from this reflection it is only a mirror. The moment the reflection is removed, the mirror will be a mirror as it always has been. So it is with the soul. Man makes it miserable, wicked, ignorant, wise or illuminated by being conscious of these things. The soul is neither the one nor the other. The soul is only soul. However there is the difficulty that very often people, having a certain conception of the soul, do not see the idea of the mystic and say, “a wicked soul, a bad soul, a foolish soul.” But the soul cannot be that, the soul is the soul, it is beyond any attributes. Now one will ask, “Where does the soul come from? If it is conscious what is it then?” And the best explanation that can be given is: the soul is the essence of all things, it is life—but not life in the sense we understand it. What we call life is a suggestion of life. The soul is the real life. The reflection, which is only a suggestion of the soul, we call life and one who moves and sees and hears and acts we call a living being, but what is living in him is the soul. The soul is not seen, therefore life is not seen. Life has touched the person; so one sees the effect of that touch in the person and one says, “He is living, it is life.” But what we see is a suggestion of life which appears and disappears. Life is life, it never dies. When one asks, “What is intelligence?” we have the same problem as with consciousness. One knows intelligence as something which is intelligent, but there is a difference between intelligence and intelligent. The intelligence which has the reflection of a certain knowledge becomes intelligent. But intelligence need not know: it is the knowing faculty; just as consciousness need not be conscious of anything: it is consciousness itself, it cannot witness it. For instance, if one keeps a person in a dark room with beautiful colors and pictures he cannot see them. His eyes are open, his sight is open, but what is before him is not reflected in his sight. What is there is sight, nothing reflected in it. So it is with consciousness, and it is the same with intelligence: intelligence which is consciousness, and consciousness which is the soul. Why do the materialistic and spiritualistic view differ? A materialist today says that even biology shows how man comes from the animal kingdom. There is a gradual awakening of matter to become conscious and through the awakening to consciousness matter becomes fully intelligent in man. So far science goes. A mystic does not deny this. He says, “It is quite true, but where does matter come from, and what is matter?” Matter is intelligence just the same, there is only a process. Just like the seed—which is the root—manifests within the heart of the flower, so in man intelligence manifests through the development of matter. But intelligence which is intelligent begins with intelligence and finishes in intelligence.* Spirit is the source and goal of all things; if matter did not have spirit in it, it would not awaken, it would not develop. Matter shows that life unfolds it, that life discovers it, that life realizes it: that consciousness which was so to speak buried in matter for thousands of years. By a gradual process it is realized through the vegetable and animal kingdoms, and in man it unfolds itself and takes its original condition. The only difference is that in this finishing of the spirit, this fulfillment of the spirit which manifests in man, there is variety: such a large number of human beings, millions and billions—and in their origin is one being. Spirit is one when unmanifested, and many in the realm of manifestation. Therefore the appearance of this world of variety gives man first the impression of many lives-which produces what we call illusion and keeps man ignorant of the human being. The root from where he comes, the original state of his being, man does not know. He is all the time under the illusion of the world of variety which keeps him absorbed, interested and busy, and at the same time ignorant of his real condition as long as he is asleep to one side of life and awakened to the other, asleep to the inner and awakened to the outer side of life. Awakening of the soul is what the mystic calls awakening to the source; it is the condition to awaken to the reality of life. You may ask how one awakens to this reality, what makes one awaken, and whether it is necessary for one to be awakened. The answer is that the whole of creation was made in order to awaken. This awakening is chiefly of two kinds: one kind is called birth, the birth of the body, when a soul awakens in a condition where it is limited in the physical body. This is one awakening and by this man becomes captive. There is another awakening, which is to awaken to reality, and that is called the birth of the soul. First is the birth of the body, next the birth of the soul, as it is said in the Bible. One awakening is to the world of illusion, the other to the world of reality. One must know that for everything there is a time, and when this is not considered one makes a mistake. When one wakens a person at two o'clock at night his sleep is broken; he ought to sleep all night, it was necessary for him. Not knowing this, people very often try to wake a person up, their wife, husband, friend or relation, their child or father. They are very anxious to awaken the other; often they feel too lonely and think, “This person is close to me, he should be awakened too.” It is the same with the one who smokes or drinks: he likes others to have the same experience, just as it is too dull for a person in a cheerful mood if the other one is so dull that he cannot laugh and see the joke. Naturally therefore the desire, the tendency of those who awaken to the higher life is to awaken others. They cannot help it, it is natural. But very often one is too impatient with people and unreasonable. Very often we make great mistakes wanting to awake a person before it is time—when he ought to have a sleep. Also we sometimes presume to be more awake than another, while in reality the other may be more awakened. There is a story of a wife who was religious and devotional. One day she arranged a feast and her husband asked, “What is it for? is it a religious day?” “It is more than a religious day” she said, “it is the greatest day in my life. There was something which always kept me anxious and it has left me now.” The husband asked what that was, and she said, “Since I married you I thought that you had no inclination to anything spiritual or religious.” “Then what makes you think otherwise? asked the husband. She said, “Today I have realized, now I understand, that you are spiritual.” “Do you? How do you know?” “Well.” she said, “do not ask me.” “No, tell it to me.” She then told him, “I heard you say the name of God while turning over in your sleep.” “Did I” said he, “Alas.” He fell down and died instantly. The mystery was too sacred to him, something he could never say in words. His feeling of devotion and worship was so great that no church could contain it, it was vaster than any church, greater than the universe. When that mystery was broken it was as if a sacred seal was broken. He could not stand it and died. The other day I was touched to see a play in which a student of the light of the higher ideals says the Word, the sacred Word, and dies. The beautiful part was that there was a prophet in the play who saw it and said, “He saw beyond and died.” What does death mean? Turning. The soul is always awake, so it is always living. What is death? Death is turning: the soul turns from one side to another. If a beautiful voice comes from behind to which it wishes to listen then it turns, it is attracted to another direction. This is called awakening, awakening to a certain sphere to which it was asleep. It is no use trying to awake everybody; everyone is awakening to something—if not to higher truth, then to lesser. The one who has the privilege of being awake can give a hand to the one who is trying to awake—to whatever plane it may be. In the language of the mystic giving a hand is called initiation. In order to get a clear idea of awakening I should like to bring to your thought the condition which we call a dream. Many give little importance to it. When one says, “This person is dreamy” it means that he is conscious of something which is nothing. But is there really anything which we can call a dream? The real meaning of dream is that which is past. Yesterday is as much a dream as the experience of the night: it is past. When a person is dreaming, does he think that he is in a dream? Does he think that it is unimportant? At that moment does he give it less importance than his everyday life? He looks at it as a dream when he is awakened to the other sphere, but while in the dream sphere he will not call it a dream. When a person is asked, “What about the experience of yesterday?” he will say, “It was a dream, everyday life was a dream.” The more one thinks of it, the more one glances into the hereafter, and the more one will realize that what is behind the veil of death, is awakening to another sphere as real as this, even more real than this. What is real? Real is the soul, the consciousness itself. What is past is a dream, what will come is hope. What one experiences seems real, but it is only a suggestion. The soul is real, its aim is to realize itself. Its liberation, its freedom, harmony and peace, all depend upon its own unfoldment. No outside experience can make the soul realize the real. Why cannot we see the soul? We can see the body and from our thoughts we can think that we have a mind, because thought manifests to us in the form of a mental picture. Why do we not see the soul? The answer is that as the eyes can see all things but themselves so it is with the soul. The soul is sight itself, it sees all, but the moment it closes its eyes to all it sees then its own light makes it manifest to its own view. It is therefore that people take the path of meditation, the path by which they get in touch with themselves, with their soul. They realize the continuity of life which is immortal life, they realize the independence of life by getting in touch with their soul. Now one may ask, “What about those who come in this world in a miserable condition, while others come in good conditions? Is it not something innate in the soul?” No, it is something that the soul has carried along with it like the load on a camel: it is on its back, not within it. So it is with the load of the soul. Another question is, “if the soul is awakened, how does it awake, and who awakens it?” We see that the time for nature to awake is the spring. It is asleep all winter and it awakes in the spring. There is a time for the sea, when the wind blows and brings good tidings, as if it awakes from sleep; then the waves rise. All this shows struggle, it shows that something has touched it and makes it uneasy, restless; it makes it want liberation, release. Every atom, every object, every condition and every living being has a time of awakening. Sometimes there is a gradual awakening, and sometimes there is a sudden awakening. To some persons it comes in a moment's time—by a blow, by a disappointment, or because their heart has broken through something that happened suddenly. It seemed cruel, but at the same time the result was a sudden awakening and this awakening brought a blessing beyond praise. The outlook changed, the insight deepened; joy, quiet, independence and freedom were felt, and compassion showed in the attitude. A person who would never forgive, who liked to take revenge, who was easily displeased and cross, a person who would measure and weigh, when his soul is awakened, becomes in one moment a different person. As the emperor of India Mahmud Ghaznavi has said in a most beautiful line, “I, the emperor, who have thousands of slaves awaiting my command, the moment love has sprung in my heart consider myself the slave of my servants.” The whole attitude becomes changed. Only, the question is what one awakens to, in which sphere, in what plane, to which reality. Sometimes after one has made a mistake, by the loss that mistake has caused, the outlook becomes quite different. In business, in one's profession, in worldly life, a certain experience just like a blow has broken something in a person and with that breaking a light has come, a new light. However, one is not always to be awakened by a mistake. No doubt awakening very often comes by a blow, by a great pain, a painful condition, but at the same time it is not necessary to look for a blow. Life has enough blows for us, we need not look for them. There is a story of a peasant girl who was passing through a farm while going to another village. There was a Muslim offering his prayers on his prayer-rug in the open. The law is that no one should cross the place where anyone is praying. When this girl returned from the village this man was still sitting there. He said, “0 girl, now what terrible sin have you committed!” “What did I do?” asked she. “I was offering prayers here, and you passed over this place.” The girl asked, “What do you mean by offering prayers?” “Thinking of God” he replied. The girl said, “Yes? Were you thinking of God? I was thinking of my young man whom I was going to meet, and I did not see you. Then how did you see me while you were thinking of God?” That shows what awakening means, what sleep means. She was asleep to the Muslim and awake to the one she was going to meet. And he was awake to something else than to the object of his prayer. He was asleep to his object and she was awake. One's heart is where one's treasure is. If it values a treasure it is awakened to it. If it is not awakened to a treasure it may be awakened to some misery. If its treasure is on earth the heart is awakened rather to the earth than to something else. In spiritual awakening the first thing that comes to man is the lifting of a veil and this is the lifting of an apparent condition. Then a person does not see every condition as it appears to be, but sees behind every condition its deeper meaning. Generally man has an opinion about everything that appears before him. He does not wait one moment to look or to have patience, he immediately forms an opinion about every person, about every action he sees; whether wrong or right, he immediately forms an opinion without knowing what is behind it, ready to contempt. It takes a long time for God to weigh and measure; for man it takes no time to judge! But when the veil of immediate reason is lifted, then one reaches the cause, then one is not awakened to the surface but to what is behind the surface. There comes another step in awakening when a man does not even see the cause, but comes to the realization of the adjustment of things: how every activity of life, whether it appears to be wrong or right, adjusts itself. By the time he arrives at this condition he has lost much of his false self. That is what brings him there, for the more one is conscious of the false self, the further one is removed from reality. These two things cannot go together. It is dark or it is light; if it is light there is no darkness. As much as the false conception of self is broken up, so much more light there is. On this path therefore a person sees life more clearly. Another form of awakening is the awakening of the self-, one begins to wonder, “What does my thought mean, what does my feeling mean, what does wrong and what does right mean? What is it after all?” A man then begins to weigh and measure all that springs within himself. The further he goes the more he sees behind all things, not only living on the surface of life, but attached to all planes of existence. This is a new awakening. Then a person has only to be awakened to the other world; he need not go there. He need not experience what is death, but he can bring about a condition where he rises above life. This brings him to the conclusion that there are many worlds in one world. He closes his eyes to the dimensions of the outer world and finds within his own self: “You are the center of all worlds.” And the only thing necessary is turning; not awakening, but turning. Man has become motionless, stagnant by fixing himself to this world in which he is born, in which he has become interested. If he makes his soul more subtle in order to turn away from this world he can experience all that is said of the different worlds, of the different planes of consciousness. He will find the whole mystery within himself only by being able to make his soul so subtle that it can turn and move. One may ask, “How can we make the soul subtle?” The character of the soul is like water. By being stagnant it becomes frozen like ice which does not move, and so it is with the soul bound to the world of which it is conscious. It is not unable to move, but that consciousness holds it; it is like captivity. A Sufi poet shows the way out of it when he says, “You yourself have made your self a captive, and you yourself will try to make your self free.” The Dance of the Soul One often wonders what it is in the lower creation, in a horse coming from a good race, in a peacock and more animals, which gives them the tendency to dance. What we generally call a beautiful horse is a horse which shows that tendency and those who understand the qualities of animals judge them by their tendency to dance. Once I was looking at a procession of the Maharaja of Nepal. When the whole of the procession had passed and the horse of the Maharaja approached, it seemed as if the horse by his dancing tendency was answering the eagerness of the people to see the Maharaja and pay homage to him. A person standing near me made the remark, “It seems as if the horse were conscious of his master.” In that remark lies the secret of the dance. This tendency is found throughout the lower creation, although it be an unconscious one; it is as it were the rising of the deepest part of being. If there are two horses, one with an inclination to dance every moment, the other with an inclination to stand still like a log of wood, we may say that the deepest self of the latter is covered and the deepest self of the former is open and wanting to express the vibration which animates it. The desire to dance arises in the peacock because it is impressed by beauty, which it also shows in its own wings and feathers. The whole nature expresses its deep touch with its own source. Life is a swing; there is one swing where life touches its innermost being and brings that out to the material world, striking every heart. In the waxing and waning of the moon, the changing tides of the sea, the alternate seasons there is a period when nature breathes downward and dives up something that is most beautiful and appealing to the heart. When we consider the human race we find that the whole nature represents itself in an individual being, and this individual being reflects the whole nature. The infant has moments of smiles when it is happy and moves its hands and legs while there seems to be no reason why it should do so. Although every man is not a philosopher, every soul is a philosopher, and in the East it is said that when a child smiles it sees the angels. As the sun gives joy by its reflection, so that inner spirit when reflected in a human being produces JOY and happiness. By that smile of the infant everybody is drawn; it is a magic for everyone who looks at it. Words can never explain what the child feels. Grown-up persons lose that touch through their artificial life, yet they are drawn to the child's happiness. As the infant grows into a child it still has its moments when it is moved to sing and dance, not knowing where that tendency comes from, but enjoying paradise on earth. It wants a mind that is in touch with the infinite to perceive that Joy invaluable in comparison to all other sensations of life in this world. There is a Sura in the Qur'an which explains this a little, but few understand its true meaning: “Have you known the night of power? During that night angels descend, spirits are attracted, trees and mountains fall in prostration, submitting to the divinity of God.” From the beginning to the end of that night there is inexplicable joy and profound peace. The prostration of trees and mountains means that they do not exist for the soul at that time. The soul has risen above them, from all worries and anxieties the mind is empty. Then the night of Joy comes. An artist may paint pictures all his life, but there will only be a few moments when without making any effort his brush does what the soul wants it to do. The greatest musicians like Beethoven, Bach, whose music always has a living influence on the heart of man, did not create their music from the brain; it was not merely a play of technicality, there was something else. They are the musicians who caught the moments of the dance of the soul and responded to it. In a musician the soul dances in the realm of music, in a painter the soul dances in the realm of colors, in the poet it dances in the realm of poetry. In sculpture and architecture we also find that it was the dance of the soul which produced it; the Taj Mahal in India for instance was a product of the dance of the soul. In all these aspects the soul shows its beauty, and in all these different realms the dance of the soul is one and the same. When one bell is rung, by the sound of that one bell other bells will also vibrate. So it is with the dancing of the soul; it produces its reaction and that again will make other souls dance. How can we get to the secret of this dance? We want the key to be able to wind the soul to make it dance. A story of Tansen, the singer of king Akbar, tells that Akbar said to him, “You are such a great musician. I wonder how great your teacher must be.” Tansen answered, “There is no comparison, My Lord, we are different. He is infinitely greater.” Akbar was very much inclined to hear this master's music, but Tansen told him that his master lived in a cave, that it was a very long journey, and even then he did not know if his master would sing before a king. Akbar however was persistent and arrived with Tansen at the cave. The master saw who was his visitor but did not mind, and when he felt moved he began to sing. As he sang Akbar and Tansen went into ecstasy and both lost their consciousness. The master disappeared and they found themselves alone and as in a dream. When they had recovered their senses they went home. Akbar asked, “Why has the master disappeared?” And Tansen answered, “So that next time you might not know him.” Akbar then asked Tansen to sing again the song of the master, but Tansen was not able to produce the same effect. He explained this to Akbar saying, “While I sing to thee, my master sings to God” This explains our condition of today. In music, in painting, in poetry man’s first thought is, “How will it take? What will the people say of it?” When inspiration is sacrificed to the material world how can the soul ever dance—for the dance of the body is death to the soul. In his absorption in the external world man has lost touch with his own self. Looking at this subject from a metaphysical point of view the soul is dancing when it is charged with the battery of infinite life. In the life of the infant, of the bird, free from responsibility, we find the natural life which is in touch with the battery of infinite life, and they become charged by it. As man grows, the more he is successful in worldly affairs, the more he loses contact with his inner being; he is kept in the spider's web he spun himself. Inharmonious conditions, the artificiality of life cause unrest, man is confused and knows not where lies his happiness. The battery which is the depth of every life may be called the divine Being, or divine Life. Every soul is connected with this battery, but when it is not responding to it, not conscious of it, it loses its chance. In Krishna's dance, spoken of in every house in India as it is considered a sacred story, the secret of this philosophy is hidden. Krishna was a most charming youth, popular in his village. Every girl wanted once to dance with him and he promised that on a full moon night he would dance with everyone of them. When the night came all the girls arrived at the place where they were to dance and the miracle is told that really Krishna danced with every girl, for so many girls as there were, so many Krishnas appeared to dance. Krishna is the innermost spirit whose life rises and dances through the artist. The different minds are represented by the gopis, the girls, and Krishna is the source of life within the individual. The different minds are considered as gopis, because the mind must already have its own beauty to be able to reflect that greater beauty. For instance, if a man had no idea of language and his soul began to dance no gopi would be there, no possibility for poetry to flower from him, as his mind was not prepared. Our souls are only created to dance; it is their nature to dance and it is the tragedy of life when the soul is kept from dancing. Our craving for comfort and outward satisfaction, our ambition, our desires are nothing but the longing to experience that dance-as we know it. Paradise is pictured by every teacher as a place where there is music and dance. Music itself is dance, poetry is the dance of words, singing the dance of the voice. Only when inspiration comes naturally it is a life coming from the depth of the individual. The Hindus speak of Indra as the king of paradise; the dancers in his court are called apsaras. A much loved story in the East tells us of a dancer of the court of Indra who loved a being of the earth and brought him with her to heaven. Indra's wrath was aroused; he separated them and they were sent into the desert. The reason is that the dancers who were especially for Indra were not supposed to neglect their duty for the love of other beings. Our souls are dancers to God; born to dance to God they must enjoy beauty in its perfection. When we forget that dance in our absorption in earthly joys we neglect our duties for which we were created. The object in the life of the Sufi is to keep his heart like a compass pointing to one goal, the center, Indra for whom every soul is created to dance. We need not go to the forest or the wilderness; we can be in a crowd, but we should be like the compass, always pointing to the one goal of our existence. Studies and practices are given to prepare the pupil to look at that goal. It is known to many that there are people in the East who for thousands of years have given their whole life to the search of the truth. The Sufi message represents that thought which can draw East and West together in the understanding of life. An opportunity has been given to the friends of these thoughts to bring man home to this secret of life. We see in the life of an infant that there comes a moment when it smiles to itself and moves its little feet and legs as if dancing, bringing delight to the one who looks on and creating life in the atmosphere. What was it that sprang into being in the heart of the tiny infant, ignorant of the pains and pleasures of life? What is it that suddenly springs from its heart, that gives expression to its eyes, that inspires its little movements and voice? In ancient times the old people said, “This is the spirit coming.” They thought it was an angel or fairy speaking to the child, but in reality it is the soul which at that moment arises to ecstasy which makes all things dance. There are many delightful experiences in life, but Joy is something greater and deeper than delight, it springs from the innermost being. There can be no better description of the springing of joy than the dance of the soul. One finds in the life of every person, sorrowful or happy, wise or foolish, that there are moments when he begins to sing or move. Joy may be expressed also by a smile, it may even be expressed in tears of joy, but in one and all it is the dance of the soul. This heavenly bliss is not only for mankind, it comes to all beings. Man lives his life in an artificial world and seldom has a chance to see the beauty of nature. This ecstasy is to be found in the forests, in the wilderness where the great Yogis, sages, saints, seers and prophets received their inspiration. If you could only see what is called in the East the dance of the peacocks, the peacocks expressing the impulse of joy, inspired and blessed by the sublime beauty around them. Birds and animals all have their moment of joy, and in these moments you can hear their words, their song, but the greatest expression is in their dance. To nearly every animal there come moments when the blessing of heaven descends upon them, and they respond in dance. This blessing is revealed in every aspect of life, even in inanimate objects, in trees and plants; even there we see in the spring the rising of life. Flowers and plants are but different expressions of the one life, the source of all beauty and joy and harmony. Someone asked the Prophet for a definition of the soul, and he answered in one sentence: “The soul is an action of God.” There could be no more expressive words to explain this philosophy. It is the action of the inner or divine Life, and when this shows itself in any form it is the reaction to the action of God; it is this which may be called the dance of the soul. It is this which has inspired the great musicians and poets. Why do the music of Wagner or Beethoven and the words of Shakespeare live so long and continually give new joy and inspiration? Why has not all music and poetry the same effect? Because poetry is one thing, and the dance of the soul another. The dance of the soul is beyond mere poetry, and when music expresses itself as the dance of the soul it becomes something higher than music. Man becomes so accustomed to external knowledge! He wants to learn and understand this thing and that, but beauty does not come so naturally because beauty is beyond all knowledge: it is intended to prepare man to express his soul. How often do we confuse these two things, inspiration and education. Education is the preparation for inspiration. Education prepares the mind to be a better means for the: expression of the natural spring in the heart. When education becomes a hobby and inspiration is forgotten then the soul becomes choked, and where there is no life man is mechanical, unreal. He may write poetry, compose music and paint pictures, but they are all lifeless, for he himself is a machine. The soul in itself is life, knowledge and beauty. As an instance I will speak of two poets in India. Kalidasa was the most learned poet of the Sanskrit age and was never educated. As far as language goes Kabir's language was most ordinary and yet, when the people in India who laid importance on the delicacy and convention of Hindi heard his words, they forgot conventions, for his poetry brought life, it sprang from the soul, it was spirit. Grammar was faulty, but nevertheless the verses made that impression. Why? Because the words were living, the soul was dancing. The purpose of life is to become more living, to allow the soul to live more, and that is the limit given by Christ when he says, “Raise your light high.” This means allowing the soul to express itself. It does not matter what your life is, what your pursuit is; in order to fulfil the purpose of life you need not be in a temple or a church. Whatever your life's pursuit—art, poetry, sculpture, music, whatever your occupation may be-you can be as spiritual as a priest or clergyman, always living a life of praise. Your work in life must be your religion; let the soul express itself in every aspect and it will surely fulfil the purpose of life. The soul's life comes naturally if we open ourselves for the spirit to rise. There is an old story in India that expresses this philosophy. In the belief of Hindus there is a heaven or paradise called Indraloka where the God Indra is king, and there are angels or fairies whose work is to dance before Indra. There was a fairy from Indraloka who once descended on earth and loved an earthly being. By the power of her magic she brought this earthly being to paradise. When this became known to Indra she was cast out from paradise and they were separated. This legend is symbolic of the human soul, which originally belonged to Indraloka, the kingdom of God, the sphere full of peace, joy and happiness. Life there is nothing but Joy, it is a dance. Life and love come from God and raise every soul till it dances. It is therefore that the Yogi term atma means the soul of man as Joy itself. In its pure condition it is a joy, and when it is without joy its natural condition is changed: it depends upon the names and forms of the earth and is deprived of the dance of the soul. Therein lies the whole tragedy of life. The wrath of Indra, the God of paradise, is nothing but breach of law, as it is natural that the soul is attracted to the Spirit and that the true joy of every soul is the realization of the divine Spirit. Absence of realization keeps the soul in despair. In the life of every poet, thinker, artist or scientist there come moments when ideas or words are given to him; they are given at that moment and at no other. This is the moment when unconsciously the soul has an opportunity to breathe. Man does not usually allow his soul to breathe; the portal is closed up in the life of the earth. Man closes it by ignorance, he is absorbed in things of much less importance. So when the door opens and the soul is able to breathe even one breath, it becomes alive in that one single moment, and what comes out is beauty and joy making man express himself in song or dance. So heavenly beauty comes on earth. The things that catch man's mind are always living things. The poems of Rumi which are called Masnavi, have lived for eight hundred years, they are living, they bring joy and ecstasy whenever they are sung or recited. They are everliving life, expressing an everlasting beauty. It is the power of God, and for man ever to presume it possible to produce that by study is a mistake. It is impossible. It is the power of God above which brings out the perfection of beauty. Man can never make the soul dance, but he can make himself a fit instrument for the expression of his soul. The question is, in what way can he so fit himself? It appears that the soul is the Spirit of God, and the Spirit of God lives within the shrine of the heart; this shrine can be closed or it can be open. There are some things in life that open it and some that close it. The things that close the heart are those which are contrary to love, tolerance and forgiveness, such as coldness, bitterness and ill-will, and a strong element of duality. The world is more upset today than ever before; in many ways man seems to go from bad to worse, and yet he thinks that he is progressing. It is not lack of organization or of civilization; both these things he has. What he lacks is the expression of the soul. He closes his door to his fellow-man, he closes the shrine of the heart and by doing so he is keeping God away from himself and others. Nation is set against nation, race against race, religion against religion. Therefore today more than ever before there is a need for the realization of this philosophy. What we need is not that all religions should become one nor all races; that can never be. But what is needed is undivided progress, and making ourselves examples of love and tolerance. By talking about it, by discussing and arguing it will not come, but by self-realization, by making ourselves the examples of what should be, by giving love, taking love, and showing in our action gentleness, consideration and the desire for service for the sake of God in whom we can all unite beyond the narrow barriers of race and creed.