Part Three. Writings from the Arya (1914 – 1921 The
Question of the Month
The Universal Consciousness
I have encountered in my life several examples of
people living or trying to live in the universal consciousness and it seemed to
me that it rendered them less compassionate, less humane, less tender to the
sufferings of others. It seems to me that if it is necessary not to remain in
the individual consciousness when it is a question of our own sufferings, it is
otherwise when it is a question of sympathising with the sufferings of others.
In my opinion we feel more keenly the troubles of our brothers in humanity if we
remain in the individual consciousness. But I may be mistaken and ask only to be
enlightened by you on this point.
Is it certain that such people are living in the
universal consciousness? or, if they are, is it certain that they are really
less humane and compassionate? May they not be exercising their humanity in
another fashion than the obvious and external signs of sympathy and tenderness?
If a man is really insensible to the experiences of
others in the world, he is not living in the full universal consciousness.
Either he has shut himself up in an experience of an individual peace and
self-content, or he is absorbed by his contact with some universal principle in
its abstract form without regard to its universal action, or he is living
inwardly apart from the universe in touch with something transcendent of
world-experience. All these states are useful to the soul in its progress, but
they are not the universal consciousness.
When a man lives in the cosmic self, he necessarily
embraces the life of the world and his attitude towards that world struggling
upward from the egoistic state must be one of compassion, of love or of
helpfulness. The Buddhists held that immersion in the infinite non-ego was in
itself an immersion in a sea of infinite compassion. The liberated Sannyasin is
described in the Gita and in other Hindu books
as one whose occupation is beneficence to all creatures. But this vast spirit of
beneficence does not necessarily exercise itself by the outward forms of
emotional sympathy or active charity. We must not bind down all natures or all
states of the divine consciousness in man to the one form of helpfulness which
seems to us the most attractive, the most beautiful or the most beneficent.
There is a higher sympathy than that of the easily touched emotions, a greater
beneficence than that of an obvious utility to particular individuals in their
particular sufferings.
The egoistic consciousness passes through many stages
in its emotional expansion. At first it is bound within itself, callous
therefore to the experiences of others. Afterwards it is sympathetic only with
those who are identified in some measure with itself, indifferent to the
indifferent, malignant to the hostile. When it overcomes this respect for
persons, it is ready for the reception of the altruistic principle.
But even charity and altruism are often essentially
egoistic in their immediate motive. They are stirred by the discomfort of the
sight of suffering to the nervous system or by the pleasurableness of others’
appreciation of our kindliness or by the egoistic self-appreciation of our own
benevolence or by the need of indulgence in sympathy. There are philanthropists
who would be troubled if the poor were not always with us, for they would then
have no field for their charity.
We begin to enter into the universal consciousness
when, apart from all individual motive and necessity, by the mere fact of unity
of our being with all others, their joy becomes our joy, their suffering our
suffering. But we must not mistake this for the highest condition. After a time
we are no longer overcome by any suffering, our own or others’, but are merely
touched and respond in helpfulness. And there is yet another state in which the
subjection to suffering is impossible to us because we live in the Beatitude,
but this does not deter us from love and beneficence,– any more than it is
necessary for a mother to weep or be overcome by the little childish griefs and
troubles of her children in order to love, understand and soothe.
Nor is detailed
sympathy and alleviation of particular sufferings the only help that can be
given to men. To cut down branches of a man’s tree of suffering is good, but
they grow again; to aid him to remove its roots is a still more divine
helpfulness. The gift of joy, peace or perfection is a greater giving than the
effusion of an individual benevolence and sympathy and it is the most royal
outcome of unity with others in the universal consciousness.
and in other Hindu books
as one whose occupation is beneficence to all creatures. But this vast spirit of
beneficence does not necessarily exercise itself by the outward forms of
emotional sympathy or active charity. We must not bind down all natures or all
states of the divine consciousness in man to the one form of helpfulness which
seems to us the most attractive, the most beautiful or the most beneficent.
There is a higher sympathy than that of the easily touched emotions, a greater
beneficence than that of an obvious utility to particular individuals in their
particular sufferings.