The Way of Power by L. Adams Beck (feel good books to read .txt) đź“•
I asked, "How did you explain it?" and the captain answered, "I couldn't. It couldn't have happened, but all the same he made a lot of us see it."
"But that kind of mass-hypnotism could be almost as wonderful as the reality," I suggested. "A really ter
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So runs the creed of the great Romans. And this is the only safe and eternal way to the true occult—to the Land concealed by the dazzling phantasmagoric show of the senses. That there are by-paths none can deny and they must be stated in any honest study of the occult, but there is only one safe way, and it is encouraging to remember that all the faiths have marked that truth on their charts however they may have differed in matters of less importance. The type of man thus produced is the only hope of a race worthy to inherit the universe in the sense of developing the higher consciousness which alone can save us from our blunderings in the darkened cave of the senses in which we live. Do we breed such men in our teeming cities? Have not even the revelations of science based on the material and physical helped to rivet our fetters more closely by making self-indulgence and “pleasure” more attainable to the many as well as to the few?
I am not preaching a sour austerity,—many of the pleasures of life are lovely and innocent and lead directly to the doors of the true occult. But they are the simple ones.
Often in Japan for instance I have watched the crowds who stream out to share in the delight of the seasonal blossomings—unconsciously drinking in the occult and mystic influences of nature. I recall a day in autumn in a beautiful place beyond Kyoto when the maples had broken into their utmost glorious conflagration of russet-red, rose-red, fiery red, burning far away over the hills and reflecting themselves in a lake and a little river as if the very earth could not contain their splendor and they flung it on into a purer element.
Many hundreds of Japanese families had come out to see the wonder, not in any noisy or drunken way of enjoyment but simply to sit and absorb it quietly. Whole families from children to grandparents. It was impossible to avoid a feeling of envy for one’s own country in seeing that sight and the evident feelings it produced. I remembered those who knew and who had said to me, “Every Japanese child is a potential artist.” That is a glittering generality which like others may not be wholly true, but I myself believe it to be very largely true, and such things as I have described confirmed me in the belief. And if it be true, let it be remembered that art, not misused, is a straight highway to one of the gates of the Land behind the Looking Glass.
Thus, as I have quoted above, what is seen is one with him who sees, and, in the words of a Chinese thinker, “the secret of art lies in the artist,”—and all art, all beauty, all the true roads to the Land behind the Looking Glass must begin with entire self-obedience and forgetfulness of the ego that it may recognize itself as a part of the whole. That condition is the Guardian of the Gate and those who search for realization of the true occult know this with passion.
Hear the cry of Blake—he who was among the greatest of occultists, who was free to come and go in the Land behind the Looking Glass after his fashion:
“I will go down to self-annihilation and eternal Death,
Lest the last Judgment come and find me unannihilate
And I be seized and given into the hands of my own selfhood.”
There is indeed no darker hell for, while it persists, the very psyche of man is shriveled in its flames and the five senses hold him with the five red-hot fetters of ignorance. Very poor foreshadowings indeed are the unconscious flashes of revelation set beside the steadily ordered purpose of a lifetime, building by the tools of discipline step by step before a man the upward way upon which the feet may be planted in safe foreseeing certainty. Only such a man, after such a preparation, conscious in this life, forgotten but evolved in preceding lives, is fit to be trusted with the hidden powers. And that this is true the long history of aberrations and crimes in the occult witnesses, together with the longer history of ruin under the influences of drugs, especially of narcotics.
(_In the four following chapters I quote largely from studies of their faith written by great Indians ancient and modern_.)
It is taught in India that there are four roads, by each of which Yoga may be attained: perfect Yoga being understood to signify the concentration on or union with the universal Self which produces Realization, release from ignorance, liberation of the soul, and the powers. They are the Way of Action, the Way of the Intellect, the Way of Love and Devotion, and the Royal Yoga, which leads directly to the possession of the supernormal powers. A little should be said of each of the first three before passing on to the last, for it is not everyone who can, even if he would, devote himself to the hard discipline there prescribed, and there is a way for all—even for the very simple or the highly intellectual—to approach the knowledge of the powers latent within himself. I have thought that the well-known parable of the Christ referring to the men who possessed the talents alludes to this very thing, for all have this mine within themselves if they care to dig for the silver, gold or diamonds it contains, each in their relative value. One man is condemned by the Christ because he hid his talent in a napkin and did not trouble himself further; the others made varying uses of theirs, and the moral drawn is the necessity of diligence in the pursuit of the real Wisdom.
There is a beautiful Indian parable illustrating the truth that each of these Yogas or disciplines leads straight to possession of the supernormal powers of body, mind, and spirit:—
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A king in India used to demand of every great ascetic who possessed all the occult powers, “Which is the greater man—he who gives up the world to attain them or he who lives in the world and performs his duties as a householder?” Some said, “He who gives up the world.” But when he demanded proof they could not prove this and he compelled them to marry and become householders. There came one day an ascetic with a face of wisdom, and on the king’s questioning him he replied:
“The householder and he who forsakes the world are equally great: each in his own way. Come with me and I will prove it.”
And the king agreed.
So they went on a long journey to the chief city of another kingdom and there was all the rejoicing tumult of a high festival, for the beautiful princess, daughter of the king, was to choose her husband according to the ancient custom of India. Amid the assembled court and in view of the people she would throw a garland about the neck of her choice and none would question her will. And the king and the ascetic stood to see what she would do. Near them stood a young ascetic of such amazing beauty that the eyes of all followed him, and when the princess was borne in, radiant in loveliness, she too saw him, and cast her garland about his neck, thus choosing him for her husband. And the crowd rejoiced, for his was a heart-winning and spiritual beauty. He took the garland from his neck and gave it to her, saying with calm:
“My heart is fixed on other things. To me this is nothing.” And he left the assembly, making his way to the great forest, leaving behind him love, beauty, wealth and a kingdom, as if all were dross.
The princess sprang from her jeweled throne and followed him on foot, drawn by Love, the great Seducer, but he neither turned nor looked at her and so going steadfastly onward was lost in the forest; and there the king and his teacher, when they followed, found her sobbing and alone. And it was late in the evening.
So, taking pity, they said to her:
“Here is a great tree. We will all rest under it and tomorrow we will restore you to your father.”
A bird’s nest was in the tree where he lived with his wife and three nestlings. And looking down he saw and said:
“Wife, what must we do? Here are guests and it is winter and they have no fire to warm them.” So he flew away and finding a small burning stick dropped it before them, and they lighted a fire.
Still watching, he said:
“Wife, they have no food. On us lies the duty as householders and hosts of providing it. I must do my part, I will give them my body.”
And he flew down into the flame and was killed, and the bird-wife seeing this, said:
“Here are three persons and only one little bird for them to eat,—it is not enough. Also it is my duty to second my husband’s endeavor.”
So she too flew down into the fire, and the little ones accepting it as their duty also followed the example their parents had set them and fulfilled the guest-right, going cheerfully to death.
The princess, the king and the ascetic could neither eat nor sleep in beholding the action of the creatures who showed such high nobility. And next morning the two men restored her to her father. Then said the sannyasin (ascetic) to the traveling king:
“You have now seen that each is equally great in his own place. If you live in the world, hold yourself ready like these birds at all times to sacrifice yourself for the love of others. If you renounce the world resemble that young man whom neither love nor beauty nor wealth could tempt from the straight way of the spirit. But remember this always: The duty of the one is never the duty of the other.”
And the king went home, comprehending. So ends the parable.
Now this first means of approach to the true occult is so simple as to be within reach of all who have the faintest glimpse of desire for progress and power in the only world that is real—the world of the Hidden, the Beautiful, the True—the universe of Power. It is called the Yoga of Action. And the first instruction is: Consider your ideal,—the self which you would be if you could choose. Consider it even from the point of view of the so-called palpable world about you, and having considered proceed to realize it in yourself. It may be very far from a perfect ideal but at the moment it is your best and therefore it clearly indicates the path along which you must travel to the Land behind the Looking Glass. No two ideals can be, or indeed ought to be, the same, and this was recognized in India in the four great divisions of caste to which I must not diverge at present.
The first definite rule is that a man must labor steadfastly at the duties he has chosen or that have chosen him, and that, doing this faithfully, the results must not trouble him. They are not his concern. Example. Benefit others in so far as it is possible, but do not let the question of their gratitude or ingratitude trouble you. Accomplish to the limit of your powers, but if they attract the world’s notice set no value on the fame they bring. That
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