Author: Hālau ʻĀha Hūi Lanakila

 All seekers must seize the teaching which refers to taking the first crucial step on the Path. One may begin with a genuine feeling of gratitude for all one’s gifts and advantages in life. Every limitation and setback could be seen as an invaluable opportunity for learning the lessons of life as well as the mysterious workings of karma. Such an attitude of mind is assuredly helpful for any person trying to gain an initial self-understanding before treading the Path. At another level, it is even more important to realize what The Voice of the Silence calls the ‘priceless boon of learning truth, the right perception of existing things, the knowledge of the non-existent’. Nachiketas is an archetypal seeker, a Golden Age figure who lived at a time when many people were aware that nothing was more precious than the sacred teaching about immortality and the Supreme Self. Men and women searched all their lives and went through many trials and tribulations simply for the sake of coming closer to anyone who served the secret Brotherhood of Bodhisattvas, Rishis and Mahatmas. Now, in Kali Yuga, the Iron Age of Darkness, only those who have devoted many lives to the Path can know the magnitude of what has already been given to mankind. It would be a sad mistake not to take full advantage and make the best possible use, within one’s own situation and spiritual limitations, of the golden opportunity to respond gratefully and reverentially to real teachers of Divine Wisdom, Brahma Vach. This can only be authentically achieved through honest attempts to live by and for the sacred teachings. Though the initial responses may be faltering and even fearful, the moment a seeker begins to nurture a holy resolve whereby one will neither remit nor run away from the sacred task to one’s last breath, even a modest effort at the start will be charged with meaning and depth by the unconditional nature of the soul’s affirmation.

 The value of the first step is much enhanced when a person, instead of starting off with a shrunken conception of individual success and personal failure, thinks instead of human need, human pain and ignorance. The stakes are high for multitudes of souls in our time, and immense could be the harvest from seeds sown in the right places with a wise detachment toward results. Souls, galvanized by spontaneous love of their fellows in dire need, can be sustained till the last breath by a steadfast determination to persist and never abandon the quest. When the seeker truly wakes up and stands firm, then he or she may seek spiritual instruction from those who bear witness to the Master-soul within. The neophyte can thus increase the possibilities of conscious, constant access to Sat (truth), Chit (ideation) and Ananda (bliss), which abide as a luminous triadic force and feeling within the still depths of the spiritual heart. Even if one may feel, in times of stress, that one can never be wholly attuned to the Krishna-Christos within, one must continually seek and yearn, keeping alive the Nachiketas flame of devotion.

 To comprehend this teaching in terms of the spiritual heart, one must start from the cosmic and descend to the human. The pulsating rhythm of noumenal life can never be perceived until a person begins to inhabit those higher planes which permit a conscious and compassionate use of subtle supersensuous substance, in relation to which the physical body is like a coat of skin or a garment of gross matter. The Upanishads  teach that for a wise man death is not an event. No one would think that the shadow is alive in the same sense in which the body is. For the sage, the body is like a shadow of that which is subtler and which it dimly reflects. The subtle body in turn is a shadow in relation to something still more supple which it partially mirrors. The dialectical method of the Hermetic fragments and the neo-Platonic mystics requires us to keep rethinking our view of light and shadow at many levels as we travel inwards and upwards. One may approach the vast mystery of life by sensing the visible sun as a great heart which is constantly beating. There is a systole and diastole to the cosmic heart of the invisible sun, without which no single heart could beat. The thrill of life in every atom and mineral, in every plant and animal, and in every human heart, is merely a derivative expression of perpetual motion in the ceaseless, rhythmic breathing of the hebdomadic heart of the invisible cosmos.

 Everything is sevenfold and acts upon seven planes. Descending by analogy and correspondence to that miniature solar system which is the individual human being, one discerns an outwardly disordered and harmonious system. But this is only true apparently, not fundamentally. Each and every person consists of a multi-faceted hierarchy of dynamic and complex systems, among which the most invisible are the most ordered and harmonious. What is most visible is the most disordered, being the most heterogeneous and entropic. On the external plane there are many obscurations and many violent, discordant movements. It is thus difficult to grasp the majesty and grandeur of the proposition that every human being is a microcosm, a miniature universe. But the core of the teaching of Buddhi Yoga is that each human soul is capable, out of the region of the disordered and disharmonious, of coming closer through a series of progressive awakenings to that realm wherein one spontaneously affirms the mantram of Jesus Christ, “I and my Father are one.” Manifested consciousness may be yoked to the unmanifest consciousness of the unembodied Self — the miniature Spiritual Sun in the heart of each and all, ever abiding in a proper relationship to every planet and to the subtlest vestures of the soul.

 Anyone may begin by releasing the highest feelings of which he or she is capable. This unravels the paradox, for Gupta Vidya is the only key by which souls may unlock the sacred chamber of the deepest wisdom, which by definition must be secret, as suggested in the Upanishads and their best commentaries. The word upanishad itself implies secret, direct teaching from Guru to chela, Master to pupil. Gupta Vidya or the Heart Doctrine must be felt before one will be ready to use freely the sacred teachings about the inner analogues — in the realms of ideation, emotion and vital energy or volition — of the circulatory, respiratory and other systems and sub-systems in the human frame. A beautiful Sanskrit word for the heart occurs in the Upanishads: — guhya, ‘that which is hidden, that which is in secret’. It is like the sanctum sanctorum of an old Hindu cave temple, with its suggestive analogies to the human body. Even if one goes into the temple, and even if one is admitted into the sanctum sanctorum, there is nevertheless a mystery beyond that which is seen and heard, tasted and smelt and touched. There is a sixth sense of supersensuous touch, sound and hearing, and a seventh sense, analogous to the mathematical concept of limit, whereby one senses that one will never quite arrive at the end, the sense of the ineffable and infinite, invisible, inaudible and intangible.

 The wise know that this is the deepest symbolism of the temple: even if one presses into the darkest place in the sanctum sanctorum of the temple, it is only a point of entry into subtler states of consciousness and beyond, to the deepest depths of eternal duration and perpetual motion and boundless space. The term guhya refers to what anyone who grows self-consciously in regard to the various subtle sheaths of the human constitution is going to discover — the astral brain and astral heart, and beyond them their noumenal antetypes. There are subtle senses, and those who develop them can experience their tremendous range and reach, along with appropriate problems which would not be intelligible in terms of the physical plane. So too with the brain and the heart. There would be a progressive series of discoveries of correspondences at different levels in the different sheaths of the Supreme Self, in an ascending order of closeness to their cosmic analogues.

 Anyone who feels that there is a divine spark in every human soul, about which one could silently think and with which one could inwardly commune, taps the potential wisdom of the hidden fire within the spiritual heart. Those who at some level begin to live this truth in every thought and feeling-impulse that they generate, deepen their inmost feeling for the sacred cause of the spiritual elevation of the human race, the deliberate pursuit of self-knowledge for the sake of all souls. The more they can light up and rekindle, deepen and sustain this heart-feeling as a constant flame of devotion, the more they can take what might look like thin, frail candles and light up their hearts. In time, the Nachiketas flame blazes up and is established on the square platform of the altar in the sanctuary of the spiritual heart. There it can shine in its resplendent glory as a hidden regenerator of the sacred temple in which the immortal soul abides, and which is its share in the seven kingdoms of Nature. Thus the true beginning is in the sphere of soul-feelings. Until and unless one’s inmost heart can vibrate with the generosity and compassion, even a fraction of the immense heart-pulsation behind invisible Nature and the mighty host of hierophants — those Rishis and Mahatmas who recorded the Vedas and bequeathed the Upanishads — one will not be able to light up one’s own pathway to conscious immortality. This heart-light can take the persistent and patient seeker from the broad plains to the entrance to the secret Path, of which it has always been true that ‘many are called, but few are chosen’.

Raghavan Iyer
The Gupta Vidya II

 A hundred and one are the heart’s channels; of these one passes to the crown. Going up by this, he comes to the immortal.

Katha Upanishad

 Viraga — indifference to pleasure and pain, illusion conquered, truth alone perceived — marks the beginning of the razor-edged Path. For reasons connected with the cosmogony of Gupta Vidya, human beings find the first step on the Path most difficult. They must come to an initial standpoint of detachment from the world, with its false values, its fickle glamour and attractions, its febrile nightmares and anguish. Indifference simply means perceiving no essential difference between pleasure and pain because both arise from compulsive cerebral reactions to sensory stimuli. They are alike devoid of intrinsic meaning for that impartite Self which sustains its own transcendent conception of spiritual growth. Two individuals, from seemingly identical experiences of pleasure or pain, may come to contrasting conclusions and derive radically different implications. Consider two persons who enjoyed identical dinners, containing ingredients guaranteed to produce an acute stomach-ache, such that both suffered severe gastric pains the next day. Similar facts yield no insights into the diverse meanings that persons might ascribe to their experiences. This points towards the philosophical basis for self-reference and voluntary action. Man is a reality-assigning, value-assessing and meaning-ascribing agent, who needs minimal freedom from titillation and disturbance induced by pleasurable or painful experiences. Once this initial standpoint of philosophical detachment is established even to a small extent, one will soon find out for oneself that it shows the spiral Path of inward growth.

 When one averts attention from the chaos of external events, through the dawning realization that ascribing meaning and assessing value is one’s own task (svadharma), one rapidly confronts a host of unresolved elements (unappeased devas and devatas) — repressed longings, fears and fantasies — within what is often wrongly called the ‘unconscious’. Once they are set in motion, one risks slipping into alternating euphoric and terrifying states of mind, losing hold over the real world of supernal light one seeks as well as the public domain of shared sensory impressions. To dare to face oneself fully is difficult, if only because the more illusions one strips away, the more illusions crop up, like a hydra-headed monster. The protracted and painful, self-reinforcing nature of mundane illusions is boringly familiar, but they must be firmly cut through. Sufficient detachment helps one to glimpse the central but undiscovered truth of transcendental Selfhood, shining behind and beyond the world of maya. This truth about the hidden SELF is also the truth about the secret Path, which must be trodden in solitude. Only by taking each step is the next revealed. Like a winding mountain path which cannot be discerned from a hazy distance, it cannot be traced without treading it.

 One must foster steadiness, determination and constancy, remaining fixed in the recognition of the spiritual insignificance of the passing panorama of the lunar subconscious and the supreme value of the single truth one now partly sees and wholly seeks. When a willing resignation (vairagya) is sustained at this level, one is ready to experience greater fearlessness (abhaya) and penetrating insight (prajna). Viraga is ‘the Gate of Balance’. Repeatedly, at different levels of inward growth, through daunting trials at successive stages of spiritual life, one needs to establish a stable fulcrum in consciousness, reflecting a mentally renewed standpoint of calm steadiness and cheerful balance. Though seemingly complicated, this is not unlike walking, or balancing on a bicycle, or standing on a tightrope. One only knows for oneself that it is possible to maintain balance, or that it is necessary to preserve absolute faith in one’s strength of mind and soul-wisdom. A tightrope walker cannot mechanically teach a doubter how to balance and perform delicate maneuvers upon a very thin, taut wire. The experienced acrobat can take all the appropriate security measures in regard to the wire, but it is the apprentice learner who must not move one iota from an absolute, immovable conviction that he can both maintain and restore balance, and that even if he experiences a sudden loss of balance, he can still bring himself back to a steady state of balance. Existential equilibrium cannot be taught to someone who is not whole-heartedly engaged in the elusive quest for balance amidst ceaselessly shifting variables and parameters. Yet, the more one gains proficiency in the practice of viraga, the more it becomes as natural as breathing.

 One must be yoked through raja yoga, by regular meditation (dhyana), deep self-study (svadhyaya), unconditional devotion (bhakti), sustained reflection (dianoia) and sagacious equanimity (sophrosyne) to the universal and indwelling Self (Avalokiteshvara) of Krishna-Christos. That Self is veiled rather than revealed by compulsive speech and chaotic thought-vibrations. One must sustain in the daily round of duties a secret spiritual discipline which no one else can discern from peering at perfunctory externals. This ‘divine discipline’ has to do with fidelity to that sovereign standpoint which steadily sees the unmanifest Self behind the mental furniture of the world and manifest selves. What is at first a simple exercise in repeated restraint and resilient balancing can become, after a while, a rhythmic mental breathing as natural as physical breathing, leading to a state of inmost tranquillity. The Voice of the Silence enjoins the lanoo or disciple to be ready to find “thy body agitated, thy mind tranquil, thy Soul as limpid as a mountain lake”. It is certainly feasible to realize this fully within oneself, to abide constantly in those depths of spiritual self-awareness (svasamvedana), wherein there are no waves or ripples, but rather a sublime experience of serene limpidity, crystalline clarity and radiant translucence, which are all intrinsic to Alaya, the universal Paramatman. This state of self-awareness must be brought down into the realm of the higher mind in a manner that makes for steady self-tranquillization and self-regeneration, which is compatible with vigorous incarnation in the sphere of active duty. Like all subtle delineations of spiritual detachment, these helpful lines from The Voice of the Silence have a hallowed, archetypal significance. These are vitally relevant at the very start, but they presage the sweet efflorescence at the end, and they have crucial applications all along the ancient Path.

 The Katha Upanishad teaches that once one hears of the secret Path to enlightenment and conscious immortality, one cannot pretend life will be the same again. Once the flashing insight has torn away ‘the loathsome mask’, the blazing words of truth cannot be set aside as if they were never heard. All who enter the sacred orbit of Great Teachers and true gurus are self-condemned: they will never again be able to nestle in the soft folds of delusion, for the ‘Hound of Heaven’ will pursue them to the bitter end. Not to recognize this is either naïve ignorance about oneself and the cosmos, or bovine perversity in the face of the precarious incarnation of supernal light within the imperfect vestures and inherent limitations of the deceptive world of samsara. Since supple balance in motion requires both vision and verve, when one is in right earnest about treading the Path, one will find that one cannot keep one’s feet on that arduous Path without the sustained practice of spiritual archery, taught in the Mundaka Upanishad. This requires the repeated realignment of mental vision, symbolized in archery by the correct relation of eyesight to the distant target, allowing for the trajectory of the arrow, the texture of the bow, wind and weather. AUM is the sacred bow, the arrow is spiritual resolve, and the fixed target is the indestructible, invisible, formless, supreme Self (Paramatman), mirrored in the embodied Self (Jivatman), the divine Triad within and beyond one’s manifest identity.

Raghavan Iyer
The Gupta Vidya II