Jnani and Bhakti Introduction to jnani and bhakti The term jnani means seer, or one who has pursued spiritual growth through wisdom or insight. It is used as a noun to describe a type of person, or an individual like Siddhartha Gautama (the Buddha), and is also used as an adjective to indicate the concepts and practices of a particular path. In India the term is often contrasted with the term bhakti, meaning devotee or devotion. 'The understanding of the differences between jnani and bhakti is vital in one's spiritual journey, and also in understanding the sometimes bewildering diversity of the spiritual life' The real significance of jnani and bhakti is as a personal orientation to the spiritual, though we can often describe a whole religion as having either a jnani or a bhakti emphasis. Jnani individuals: make their initial response to the spiritual through the mind; their attitude is one of enquiry and doubt; their stance is aggressive in that they wish to penetrate the divine; their instinct is to understand. Bhakti individuals: make their initial response to the spiritual through the heart; their attitude is one of love and trust; their stance is passive in that they wish to be penetrated by the divine; their instinct is to surrender. Note that care has been taken to point out that these are initial responses. The jnani grows in love just as much as the bhakti grows in understanding. These are preliminary definitions which will be expanded upon and illuminated with examples in the various sections of this site. The significance of jnani and bhakti can be vividly seen in the life of the great 19th century Indian saint, Paramahansa Ramakrishna. Romain Rolland, Ramakrishna's biographer, quotes him as saying: "Greeting to the feet of the Jnani [seeker on the path of awareness (knowledge)]! Greeting to the feet of the Bhakta [seeker on the path of devotion]! Greeting to the devout who believe in the formless God! Greeting to those who believe in God with form! Greeting to the men of old who knew Brahman! Greeting to the modern knowers of Truth. " This quote captures the breadth of Ramakrishna's vision, a breadth that is aspired to in the contents of this website. However it is the specific interaction between Ramakrishna and fellow seeker Tota Puri, and between Ramakrishna and his disciple Vivekananda that most vividly illuminate the distinction between jnani and bhakti (see 'selected Masters / Ramakrishna' for an account of this). Amongst religions we can cite Christianity as having a mainly bhakti emphasis, and Buddhism as having a mainly jnani emphasis. Hinduism, being such an ancient and eclectic religion, incorporates both orientations, for example showing a pronounced bhakti emphasis in Krishna-devotion, and a pronounced jnani emphasis in the Advaita tradition of non-dualism. The social, the occult and the transcendent It is valuable to make simple distinctions in order to understand the wide range of spiritual phenomena that one encounters. While the distinction between bhakti and jnani seems to be one of the most important, a few more are needed. It seems in particular that the spiritual impulse can take one's spiritual life in one of three major directions: the 'social', 'occult', or 'transcendent'. 'There are three spiritual impulses: the social, the occult, and the transcendent. The deepest spiritual impulse is the transcendent, because this returns one to one's true self' The 'social': all those spiritual phenomena, activities and experiences that arise in a group or social situation. These include the outward forms of religion, the major and minor faiths and sects, practices such as prayer or meditation in a group, moralities and the practice of good works, and all the rituals of life that are consecrated through religion. The life of Mahatma Ghandi is an example of this spiritual impulse in action. The 'occult': all those spiritual phenomena, activities and experiences that arise in the context of the disembodied life. These include any kind of access to or experience of spirit worlds, any supernormal powers, and any esoteric knowledge thus gained. The life of Rudolf Steiner is an example of this spiritual impulse in action. The 'transcendent': all those spiritual phenomena, activities and experiences that arise in the context of transcending the self or ego. This includes (in Western terms) union with God, and (in Eastern terms) liberation or nirvana. The life of the Buddha is an example of this spiritual impulse in action. The subject matter of this site is focused on the transcendent, using this set of distinctions. Jnani and bhakti are seen as equally valid routes to the transcendence of self, though as traditions they become part of a social phenomenon. The occult, seen by some as an obstacle to the transcendent, is so intertwined in the lives and teachings of the great Masters that it needs to be examined in order to better understand the transcendent. The categories defined here are of course arbitrary to some degree, and serve only as a rough guide. The 'social' is discussed further when looking at how the concept of jnani and bhakti can illuminate the teachings and history of some of the major religions. The 'occult' is discussed further in the sections called 'jnani and the occult'. The jnani profile In this section we start to build up the understanding of the jnani spiritual personality by looking briefly at two examples from recent and ancient history, Jiddu Krishnamurti (1895 - 1986), and the Buddha (precise dates uncertain but born in the 6th or 5th C BC). It can be better to start with contemporary Masters and use their lives and teachings to understand those of the past, than the other way round. Why? Because living or near-contemporary figures are well-documented, and suffer less from mythologising and formulising (reduction of their teachings into formulae or dogma). The great Masters of antiquity are hard to unearth from the mounds of speculation heaped on their lives and writings, though credible portraits can sometimes be reconstructed using contemporary templates. 'Some of the earliest recorded jnanis are Pythagoras and Heraclitus in the West, and the Buddha and Lao Tsu in the East. However, by exposure to more recent jnani Masters like Krishnamurti, one is more likely to encounter a teaching that has not been partially lost or misrepresented.' We have an extensive literary canon in respect of both Krishnamurti and the Buddha. Krishnamurti wrote books, and there are also numerous transcripts of audio and video recordings of his talks and dialogues with contemporary figures, including scientists, religionists and philosophers. The Buddhist canon is more problematic, because two rather different traditions (Theravada and Mahayana) claim their texts as the Buddha's authentic word. Scholars however generally agree that the Theravada or Pali canon is more likely to be reliable about the historic figure. (It is the Buddha as revealed in the Pali canon that will be discussed here, though this is not to dismiss the spiritual insights conveyed by later Buddhist traditions.) What then, in these two men, separated by two and a half millennia, are recognisable in common as jnani traits? Firstly: they both taught awareness, silence of the mind. Secondly they both taught independence, questioning, doubt. Thirdly they placed no emphasis on the devotional, either devotion to themselves or to any other principle. The Buddha's teaching is summed up in his adoption of the term nirvana, meaning extinguishing (of the separate self, or ego). Krishnamurti's teaching is summed up by the term he often used: choiceless awareness. The Buddha was often referred to as the 'Conqueror', or as a 'lion roaring in the forest'. Krishnamurti was in his own way just as powerful a figure, as shown in the masterful way that he directed dialogues with distinguished and erudite visitors. The two Masters had other things in common: they were both were iconoclasts, and taught and travelled for upwards of forty years (this makes a difference: for example Christ's three year stint was too short to leave behind reliable witness). The jnani profile can be absorbed by immersing oneself in the respective canons of these two men (see Bibliography section), but also by encountering the other great jnanis of history. These include: Pythagoras, Heraclitus, Socrates, Lao Tsu, Mahavira, Plotinus, Patanjali, Milarepa, and more recently: Ramana Maharshi, Douglas Harding, and the great living teacher, Andrew Cohen. (There are too many to list them all here!) It was pointed out in the introduction that the jnani seeker approaches the divine through the head, or mind , as an initial response. The development of spiritual love follows behind, or is hidden from view (this was Vivekenanda's formulation: that he was all jnani on the outside but all bhakti on the inside, while his Master, Ramakrishna, was the reverse). Another way to look at it is that the jnani's work is to progressively illuminate all the dark corners of the mind with spiritual love, while the bhakti's work is to progressively illuminate all the dark corners of the heart with spiritual intelligence. More detailed accounts of the great jnanis, both living and dead, are to be found in other sections of the site. The bhakti profile In this section we will start to build up the understanding of the bhakti persona by looking briefly at two examples from recent and more ancient history, Ramakrishna from 19th century India, and Richard Rolle from medieval England. Ramakrishna's devotion to his chosen deity, the female goddess of destruction Kali, was extraordinary in its intensity and expression. He would dance and sing, and weep in front of her shrine, and often pass into devotional ecstasies. One of the few photographs we have of him shows him being supported by a disciple in a trance-like state during such an ecstasy. 'Bhakti is familiar to us in the West through Christianity, which is mainly taught as a devotional religion. Some have even called Christian prayer the bhakti-yoga of the West' The life of Ramakrishna epitomises that of Hindu devotionality, but we can find a similar passion in the great 14th century English mystic, Richard Rolle (for example). As a young man Rolle ran away from home to become a monk, inflamed by what he called 'the fire of love' (which is also the title of his major work). Like other great devotional mystics such as Jelaluddin Rumi (13th c Afghanistan) and Kabir (15th c India), Rolle speaks in terms of his 'beloved', naming him as God, Christ, or his 'maker'. The language of spiritual devotion is full of the imagery of romantic love, and this has developed quite independently but in parallel in different cultures including Christian, Muslim, and Hindu. Sometimes the imagery is mistaken for that of human relationships, so Rumi for example has been mistakenly called a homosexual because of his love and devotion to his spiritual teacher Tabriz. It is a valid question to ask whether the transcendent reality seen and attained by the great bhaktis is the same as for the great jnanis. The eminent scholar of religion, Georg Feuerstein, is quite sure for example that when yoga is to be understood as 'union' it is not the same 'union' as for the Christian mystics with their God (he states this in his translation of the Yoga Sutras). However, a study of the life and sayings of Ramakrishna should convince even the most sceptical that, whatever the differences in appearance, the two orientations are quite equivalent in their highest expression. The subject of bhakti is introduced here to make clearer the meaning of jnani and in no way is it suggested that one is superior to the other. As discussed earlier, the work of the bhakti can be understood as a progressive illumination of all the dark corners of the heart with spiritual intelligence. One only has to encounter the extraordinary eyes and spontaneous wit and humour of Ramakrishna to see a great intelligence at work, a phenomenon that was known to conquer even the greatest scholars he encountered. More detailed accounts of the great bhaktis, both living and dead, are to be found in other sections of the site. Which am I? It is helpful on whatever spiritual path one follows to ask the question: am I in the first instance a person with a jnani orientation or a bhakti orientation? It is sometimes possible to be a person with a jnani orientation who is involved with a mainly bhakti religion, Master, or teaching; or vice versa. The understanding of this mismatch can be a way out of an apparent spiritual deadlock or crisis. Ultimately however it is important to understand that the distinction disappears. 'We are spiritually 'gendered' as either jnani or bhakti. In the beginning it may not be clear, and in the end it may make no difference, but for most of the spiritual journey it is vital to know the distinction' The gender analogy: it may be obvious from the definitions of bhakti and jnani given in the introduction to this section that a gender or sexual analogy can be useful. Be warned that an analogy is only an analogy however! In this analogy the jnani orientation is masculine, while the bhakti orientation is feminine. There is no correlation with physical gender however. The use of sexual metaphor in the spiritual literature abounds in both East and West, and has led to misunderstanding by the lay public. Both Rumi and Kabir used the metaphor of the lover (God) and his mistress (the aspirant); both were great bhaktis, and both were men. For bhaktis the sexual metaphor implies that the devotee is feminine — Kabir for example talks of preparing the bed for the lover — while the divine principle is masculine. In traditionally bhakti religions the feminine nature of the calling may cause problems for the men in that tradition; for example Christian nuns are sometimes called 'brides of Christ', but no equivalent term can be found for Christian monks. Another problem arises when the spiritual love of a male disciple for a male Master is misunderstood by the lay public as a homosexual love, though of course the two forms of love could coincide in the same relationship. Socrates, Rumi, Walt Whitman and Ramakrishna have all been misinterpreted because of their spiritual relationships with men, and in an increasingly secular world other interpretations are losing currency. The sexual analogy is useful however because in contemporary Western thinking one's sexual orientation is not a matter of choice, but somehow a deep part of one's personality, if not necessarily physiology. There is also a conscious effort in the Western mind to extend equality to both genders and all sexual orientations, and there is an equivalent need in spiritual thinking. For many intelligent and educated individuals the bhakti orientation may seem a lesser road than the jnani orientation. This assumption is to be resisted as fiercely as outmoded views on gender and sexual orientation. Which am I? This question may already be answered in your mind, or you may find that the material in the rest of the site guides you towards the answer. Osho (Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh) used to say that if, after some enquiry and reflection, you still cannot decide, then know this:— you are probably jnani! Why? because doubt and uncertainty are characteristics of the jnani in the early stages. The Guru Principle The Guru principle: Introduction To encounter a living Master is worth more than all the books and websites in the world. Why? Because the essential message of the transcendent cannot be put into words, as the Buddha well knew when he started teaching. The problem with the living Master is one of authority however. History confers authority on figures such as Jesus or the Buddha all of whom started out at the street corner, pulpit, or soapbox just like contemporary Masters, but history persuades us of their validity. When we encounter a contemporary teacher we have to make up our own minds without the conventional sanctions of mythology and tradition. 'The presence of a living Master is more important than any words they say, or any words to be found in print through history. Study of the words is an adjunct, particularly for the jnani aspirant, but cannot replace the Master' The direct impact of a living Master on one's spiritual journey can be incalculable, but the cultural climate of the Westernised world is hostile to this precious encounter: stories of negative encounters outweigh stories of positive encounters by ten to one. This may be partly due to a spiritual wound in the collective psyche of the West that remains unhealed: the experience in Europe and America of the Inquisition. Note that the expression 'Guru principle' is taken from the book In Defence of the Guru Principle by Andrew Cohen (see Bibliography). This book is a defence against well-researched volumes such as Anthony Storr's Gurus: Feet of Clay, which set out to expose bad practice amongst spiritual teachers. The next section looks in more detail at the risks and rewards of involvement with a spiritual teacher. The Guru principle: Risks and Rewards Risks The risks of entering the guru/disciple relationship with a spiritual Master are often overplayed in the West, while the rewards are largely unknown. The increased emphasis on individualism in the West since the 17th century makes the relationship more difficult, but we also find a greater naiveté about the potential rewards than in the East. The apocalyptic nature of the Judaeo-Christian tradition seems to be deep in the Western psyche, and the phenomenon of cult suicide seems pretty much restricted to this tradition. The risks then seem tremendous : that we can not only lose our individuality, but all sense of proportion, leading to the point where we could even lose our lives. 'The risks of involvement with a Guru seem obvious, while the rewards seem obscure. This perspective is partly due to the apocalyptic religious instincts of the West, which have led to so many tragedies. It is time to see apocalyptic messages for what they are : immature fantasy' Rewards But what about the rewards? The benefits and purpose of involvement with a living Master can be summed up in a single Hindu word : darshan. It means simply to be in the presence of the Master. The actual form that darshan can take is varied, in that it may or may not involve ritual or ceremonial, and it may involve the Master speaking or being in silence. What is required from the aspirant is some intuition that the Master's state of being is in itself significant, regardless of what they say or do. The Master lives from a space that is available to everyone, but very few ever find it, hence the mere presence of the Master acts as a continuous reminder of what is possible. The Master embodies wholeness, a state of being where the divisive nature of the mind and the resulting anguish has been transcended. The Right Master The rewards of being with a Master cannot be overstated, even if it is for a short piece of time. It is the single greatest piece of good luck in one's life. The risk then lies not with the Master-disciple relationship itself, but with false Masters. The sobering truth however is that the aspirant is always drawn to the teacher that best reflects his or her existing ideas, which by definition, because the individual is an aspirant, are mainly muddle-headed. However in the West, because of our shared intellectual heritage, one can make some generalisations about the most likely kind of false Master that will attract aspirants. This type of Master will inevitably have an apocalyptic kind of teaching, involving a coming disaster which only they have predicted, and which only they can help one survive. Avoid them like the plague. The Dancing Analogy If we were to draw an analogy with dancing, then one could imagine the strange situation of individuals or even a whole society which had never danced, although they had read about it as a cultural activity from history books. To then see a dancer would be a revelation, but most would deny the phenomenon; alternatively the credulous would assign 'dancing' to all kinds of fake systems of movement. For a few individuals however, in the company of a real dancer, there would arise in them a sympathetic movement, a resonance with the dance teacher. No words could cause this sympathetic resonance, though they could then help to explain the details or externals of the dance. The sympathetic resonance that can take place between an aspirant and the spiritual Master is a little like this, but a whole order of magnitude more difficult, because there is no external activity in the Master analogous with dancing. The metaphor is still useful however, because the nature of the transcendent spiritual experience has some similarities with dance: it is creative, fulfilling, yet sufficient in itself (anyone who likes to dance will know that the hours spent in the club or dance floor are not to be seen in terms of other social purposes, though these might also exist, but simply as something sufficient in itself). There was of course in recent history a great jnani Master who also happened to be a dancing teacher: G.I.Gurdjieff (more of whom later). Gurdjieff also happens to be one of the spiritual teachers often cited amongst those considered suspect, and his case will help us to explore some of the risk/reward issues. The Question of Surrender Still a valid concept? The question that any aspirant will come up against in a Master-disciple relationship is the problem of surrender. In earlier times this was not a difficulty for a religious person, but, with the collective experience of the Inquisition behind us, it is now problematic indeed. Krishnamurti attempted to solve this problem by appearing to invert the Master-disciple relationship, but the reality was that even the most eminent of his partners in dialogue were placed in the role of supplicant. Why is this? Because the Master has destroyed every false notion of what it is to be a human being within him or herself, whereas the rest of humanity lives from imaginary values and concepts. However erudite or knowledgeable an aspirant may be, the job of the Master is to strip away all false notions of self. To surrender oneself actively and willingly to this process is to gain Enlightenment in a very short time. However, most surrender is of a passive nature where the aspirant is merely hoping that the Master will fulfil one of their imaginary goals. These imaginary goals usually have little to do with the Master's real work. 'Surrender can be active or passive. An active surrender means taking responsibility for everything that happens, while a passive surrender means putting the responsibility elsewhere, which is a guarantee of not only failure but possible abuse.' In the Gospel of St Thomas Jesus says: 'my yoke is easy, my Lordship light'. To the modern mind this conveys an archaic idea, and certainly the imagery of 'Lordship' belongs to feudal times. But to see this statement in that light is to miss the point that the genuine Master is gentle, and the discipline is easy, joyous in fact. All genuine Masters know this, but such is the nature of many seekers that some Masters seem forced to invent a plethora of daunting tasks to engage them. Another important element to understand in this relationship is that it is often short. A great Master's natural instinct is to teach as many as possible, because they know that their gift is precious and that is rarely available. Hence they are looking for new aspirants all the time, and it often becomes physically impossible to minister to the needs of everyone. Hence if the discipleship has been successful the Master will send the disciple away at the first opportunity, which has historically been seen by some as a betrayal. It should be seen more that the Master wants those who have attained to teach others, and to make way for those who still need guidance. Sometimes the Master will send an aspirant away because everything possible has been done and no progress has been made. The best reason for the relationship being short however is that the aspirant is intelligent enough and with sufficient humility to 'get it' quickly. All the men and women in the great Buddhist text 'the Elder's verses' seem to have fallen into that category. 20th C Masters The 20th century saw a number of great Masters who were able to make use of the global perspective and communications systems. They lived, as far as the West was concerned, in the most secular if not atheistic age yet known. The breakdown of conventional religion (acknowledged by Nietzsche in his famous 'Haven't you heard? God is dead') gave rise in the early part of the 20th century to a renewed interest in some sections of the population in all kinds of unconventional teachings. Hence we see the rise in interest in Theosophical, Anthroposophical and Gurdjieff's teachings, and a host of other movements and teachers throughout the century. '20th century Masters are the best documented in history. Ironically, due to the secular nature of the age, they benefited from the minimum of popular attention, and so their message is the least adulterated.' Here are a few of the great 20th C Masters: Ramana Maharshi G.I.Gurdjieff Jiddu Krishnamurti Bapak Subuh Osho (Rajneesh) Douglas Harding These will be looked at in more detail in the 'selected Masters' section. These individuals had their roots in Hindu, Sufi, Muslim, Buddhist, Jain, or Christian traditions, though they varied in the degree of eclecticism and iconoclasm that each one showed. While it may be helpful to associate with only one living Master at a time, it is highly educational to immerse oneself in the teachings and lives of all the above Masters. Because the transcendent is so subtle, and because such different metaphors are used in its presentation, one needs to continuously 'triangulate' across the different perspectives provided by such teachers in order to find the common ground. Living Masters Living Masters are problematic because they represent a challenge to any attempt at studying them. Once Masters have died one only has the recorded word, whether printed, electronic, or on audio or video media, and study can proceed without being contradicted by the Master himself or herself. Conversely the chances of a living Master having a direct impact on their disciples is in inverse proportion to their fame. This means that for most seekers their best chances are with relatively unknown teachers. Only two living teachers are included in this section at this point, but it is hoped that in time this section can expand through the contributions of visitors to this site. 'The best chance of experiencing the true Master/disciple relationship is with a relatively unknown teacher. Unfortunately this also means taking the biggest risks, as one has a limited scope for knowing the teacher's track record.' Here are a two living Masters: Mother Meera Andrew Cohen There are links and bibliographical suggestions for these and other contemporary teachers. The Internet is a good place to search for living Masters, and several of the suggested links contain personal experiences and arguments for and against living teachers around the world. Like falling in love in the romantic sense, involvement with Masters may bring all kinds of problems, but if one has a sense of spiritual urgency in one's quest, then one needs to take risks. The next section gives a few pointers about the organisations that grow up around Masters. Cults and Organisations It is inevitable that an organisation will grow around a Master. Some Masters take a direct initiative to create an organisation for the promotion of their teachings, others allow one to grow up around them, while a few actively discourage any organisation to grow in their name. It is important however to understand that one mark of the true Master is an intense desire to teach. Many make it clear that their principle enjoyment in life is to reach out to others and bring them the divine, through whatever methods they have developed. In comparison, their interest in food, sex, and wealth are often greatly diminished. The Buddha's case, as best as we can understand it from the Pali Canon, is instructive. He was initially so overwhelmed by his insight that he thought that it would be impossible to impart it to others. On reflection (legend personifies his deliberations as being with a deity, but it is more likely that they simply represent the reflections of an honest and sincere man) he decided that if he even only found one individual so close to Enlightenment that his encouragement would precipitate their attainment, it would be worth becoming a teacher. His next act is consistent with a man trained to be a leader: he went back to his previous companions in the spiritual life and announced his status as teacher, telling them decisively that they were not to call him 'friend' or to call him by his name. Over the following years he attracted many disciples and organised them into a 'sangha' (religious community), issuing rules of conduct which survive to this day. Other great Masters may never assume such an elevated position for themselves, teaching informally to a group or to individuals, this being mostly a matter of temperament. 'Organisations inevitably grow around good teachers of the transcendent. Participating in such a spiritual community can bring great benefits, but it is important to be realistic about the dynamics of such organisations.' Whatever the teacher, it is important to recognise that if an organisation does surround them, that certain dynamics inevitably come into play: The faster the organisation grows, the less likely that the normal democratic checks and balances can grow alongside. The bigger the organisation the more likely that one will be taught mainly by leading disciples. These rarely come close in understanding to the Master. The bigger the organisation the more likely that the Master, and possibly the leading disciples, will lose touch with ordinary life. The Master will only meet seekers, and rarely ordinary or secular people. This may not be a problem at all, but is bound to colour the Master's thinking. The bigger the organisation and the less the provision for democratic checks and balances, the more likely it is that abuse of power will take place. Many individuals who would not gain responsible positions in conventional society are put in charge of large budgets and large numbers of people, and they are sometimes not mature enough for it. As pointed out before, if the teachings of the Master have an apocalyptical element, its potential for harm can be amplified through a badly-monitored organisation. Despite this 'health warning' many spiritual communities are wonderful and supportive places to be in. If one is concerned, then make discreet enquiries within the organisation, or contact some of the helpgroups that exist to provide information on cults, spiritual communities and organisations. The 'Links' section suggests some sources of information and support. Via Positiva Introduction This section continues to delineate the meaning of jnani by introducing two more concepts: via positiva and via negativa. The distinction between via positiva and via negativa (positive and negative paths) is borrowed from Christian theology, but given a different, though related meaning. So far jnani has been presented as a spiritual orientation of the transcendent, that is a way to transcend the limited sense of self via an orientation that includes enquiry, doubt, the will, and understanding. In examining the jnani Masters and traditions it seems that there are two ways whereby the narrow sense of self is overcome (or to put it another way, whereby one attains mystical union): via positiva: mystical union through identification with the whole, following a progressive identification with more and more of the manifest world. via negativa: mystical union through dis-identification with the whole, following a progressive disidentification with more and more of the manifest world. 'via positiva is radical because it goes against the bulk of religious history. Most spiritual teachers have taught renunciation of the manifest world. Why? Because it is easy to persuade people that the world is wrong.' In Christian theology the terms via negativa and via positiva are ways of worshipping God: either by denying him any attributes, as in the 'Divine Darkness' of Dyonisius the pseudo-Aeropagite, or by attributing to him all goodness, as in the more conventional theology of the Catholic Church. The use of the terms via negativa and via positiva to describe spiritual paths that may or may not be God-centred (theocentric) is an expansion of the older meaning. For example, although Therevadan Buddhism has no God or gods, it is clearly via negativa, at least in the form originally proposed by the Buddha. Hinduism has two terms which sum up the difference between the two paths: 'thou art that' for via positiva, and 'not this, not that' (neti, neti) for via negativa. 'Thou art that' (a motto adopted by Osho to sum up his early teachings) indicates the state in which the usual ego-state of separation is lost, and one become all things. 'Not this, not that' sums up the renunciative path where one disidentifies with one's body, mind, and past, and hence also loses the sense of separation with all things. As with the distinction between jnani and bhakti, the distinction between via positiva and via negativa is about paths that lead to the same spiritual goal. However it may be that one can exercise more informed choice over the two paths than over the two orientations. Again, as with jnani and bhakti, the two paths are not separable, at least in their fulfilment. The Positive Path Via positiva, in the sense intended here, is a radical proposition because the association between the spiritual life and renunciation is very fixed in popular consciousness. However in more ancient traditions, including what is now called Shamanism or Paganism, there seems to have been a better balance between renunciation and participation. As religion developed from what were essentially Shamanistic religions growing up around the world with Stone Age man, they became more symbolic so the elements of nature were represented as gods (polytheism), and then developed more recently into monotheism. With this development of religion (categorised here as the social dimension of the spiritual life) came a greater emphasis on renunciation. Extreme forms of this are found in all parts of the world, alongside a view of life that is essentially pessimistic. The Gnostic and Manichaean traditions of the West for example view all matter, and especially the body, as corrupt, and the birth of a human being as a 'fall' from a spiritual state into a corrupt one. The practices and world-views associated with such a spirituality is defined here as via negativa. However, as in the Christian use of the term, it does not necessarily imply a negative outlook, and for any spiritual aspirant there are times when via negativa in its more constructive sense is vital. 'via negativa is not necessarily pessimistic, rather it is an active withdrawal. However, it is via positiva that needs a modern reinterpretation, as the old association of spirituality with renunciation is so deeply entrenched.' It is via positiva that needs a new articulation however. The proposition made earlier is that one can transcend the narrow sense of self by either dis-identifying with the elements of the manifest world, or by identifying with the whole. The Buddha's teachings are via negativa in this sense, and his first Noble Truth (life is suffering) points to an immediate problem with via positiva: that it implies an accommodation with suffering. The Buddha taught dis-identification with the ego (he used the term calming or extinguishing) and offered the end of suffering as the goal of this process (later Buddhism shifted the emphasis so that the end of suffering was for all sentient beings). As many are drawn to the spiritual life because of pain, loss, or suffering, the Buddha's message has an immediate appeal. To reverse the strategy seems almost perverse, yet it will be shown here that via positiva is more appropriate to contemporary life than via negativa. At the very least a balance, one that existed thousands of years ago, needs to be restored. The problem of suffering To seriously consider via positiva as an option for the spiritual life brings up two immediate problems: firstly, how does one deal with suffering, and secondly, where are the teachers and teachings of this path? The question of suffering has to be dealt with first, and it is not an easy one. It is of course an ancient problem, and the Gnostics, Manichaeans and some early Christians simply assumed that the world was 'fallen' or corrupt. The doctrine of original sin implies that from birth we are destined to suffer. It is partly these pessimistic views that have led to the abandonment of traditional religion, as men and women in the modern era looked at their natural instincts, particularly the sexual, and found them quite acceptable. At the same time there is a blind belief in 'all the suffering in the world', leading to the question: if God is so good, then how does He allow this suffering? In other words for the well-fed Westerner the old religions are doubly wrong : 'original sin' is clearly an inappropriate concept, and so is the idea of a loving God. 'via positiva is hard in the beginning but easy in the end. Via negativa is easy in the beginning but hard in the end. Via negativa has appeal because we are more inclined to take note of loss than gain, so we more easily identify with suffering. In the end however it becomes difficult because our natural instincts are profoundly in favour of life'. To even contemplate the via positiva then we need to set out a different view of suffering. Firstly it is useful to consider it in two parts: pain and loss. There is no doubt that life involves physical, emotional and mental pain in different degrees, yet it seems that no-one is prepared to look dispassionately at the proportions of our lives spent in pain compared to non-pain. It is actually a very small proportion as an average if one takes all the people who have ever lived, but this detached perspective is of course an inappropriate response when we actually encounter pain, particularly in others. This kind of pain is associated with disease and is due to the integrity of the organism (taken as a physical, emotional and mental whole) coming under attack. Pain indicates dis-integration of one kind or another, and in the extreme case leads to death, i.e. complete disintegration. The natural response as a human being is to do whatever is possible for oneself and others to alleviate pain. For oneself as a spiritual seeker however pain is also a challenge and a teacher, and even with a minimum of experience of meditation one can find ways to face it that are constructive for spiritual growth. Loss is a different matter. Again to speak lightly of another person's loss is inappropriate, but for the spiritual seeker loss has a particular challenge and opportunity. We identify with so much of our immediate world, our loved ones and our possessions, that loss always appears to diminish one. What is rarely taken into account is that our gains are all gifts from existence itself, even if we believe that we have worked hard for them. After all where did the means and the will for that hard work arise? Did we somehow pay in some kind of cosmic currency for our life on this planet? Did we book up ahead at great expense? Hardly. Everything that we take for granted is actually a gift, so every loss merely takes us back a little nearer to where we started. This unusual view is the key to via positiva. Another way of looking at it is that a true gratitude to creation marks the spiritual emphasis of this path. However, the view of life as 'wrong' in some way or other, or that our existence is irretrievably tainted with suffering, is deeply entrenched. The problem of suffering is one of the most profound in the spiritual life, and it takes hard work and a mature soul to grapple with it successfully. To go a little deeper into via positiva we first need to take a closer look at Nature and our place in it as humans: half animal, half divine. The poets of via positiva The great proclaimers of via positiva in the West include Thomas Traherne, William Blake, and Walt Whitman. We will look at older traditions that incorporate some of the via positiva outlook later on, but these poets of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries arrived at their views without supporting tradition. All three were intensely spiritual men, whose orientation was jnani by our definition here, and who were anything but renunciates. While Whitman may have found some inspiration in Blake, he had a very different spirituality, finding no interest in the occult worlds depicted in the poetry and art of Blake. Neither men were influenced by Traherne, because his work was not discovered until the 20th century. What all three have in common, and which William James could not accept, was a conviction in the essential goodness of life. 'Energy is eternal delight' says Blake, which both Traherne and Whitman would have assented to. Traherne taught the acquisition of the 'infant eye', the ability to see even a pebble as a treasure, let alone the wonders of the human body, 'the azure veins in an infant's limbs'. These lines of Whitman may represent one of the best summaries of via positiva: I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots, And I peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good, The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good. (Song Of Myself, v. 7) 'Whitman says: I am not contained between my hat and boots. This is a jnani statement, showing that identification with the merely personal is transcended. In Whitman's case his path and his teachings were via positiva, but the great Masters of via negativa would not disagree with the statement either'. The usual accusation against the poets of the via positiva is that they are naïve, and Traherne's 'infant eye' could support that view at first glance. On closer inspection however we find a great maturity, an ageless wisdom, that William James was quite unaware of. Whitman tells us this: No dainty dolce affettuoso I, Bearded, sun-burnt, gray-neck'd, forbidding, I have arrived, To be wrestled with as I pass for the solid prizes of the universe, For such I afford whoever can persevere to win them. (Starting from Paumanok, v. 15) Biographers of Whitman bear out this view of Whitman as a man, recording President Lincoln as saying just that, with that emphasis, about Whitman after seeing him pass the window of the East Room in the Whitehouse. Whitman's point in the poem is more significant, however, because he is declaring himself as spiritual teacher, a fact of Whitman's life quite lost to history (see 'selected Masters / Whitman'). Whitman, in contrast to Blake and Traherne, has had an entirely secular legacy, which raising an interesting point. Can a jnani via positiva teaching be presented in the West as a secular system of thought with no explicit reference to the spiritual? William James's objection is valuable however, in that it shows the obstacles to accepting the via positiva as a valid spiritual path. James was a psychologist, and even taking into account the transpersonal tradition in psychology of Jung, Hillman, Wilber and Maslow, it is fair to say that the psychologists are generally interested in the pathological mind. This is no accident, nor is it confined to the profession, it is simply part of human nature. However it was not always so, as a look at more ancient spiritualities show. via positiva and ancient traditions We have suggested that religions evolved in prehistoric times as forms of Shamanism, a form of Nature religion that saw the elements of the world as spirits. The priest, or Shaman, communicated with the spirits and interceded on behalf of the population, he also made sacred the everyday world (through 'sacrifice', meaning to make sacred, but now corrupted to mean only sacrificial killing). In time the spirits were personified as deities, leading to the many polytheistic religions of ancient history, the Greek religion being a good example. These religions evolved into or gave way to monotheistic religions, which can be seen as close to a religion of transcendence. Contemporary Hinduism is unique in that it contains elements of all these three categories of religion. The Shamanistic and polytheistic traditions have little emphasis on renunciation, so we we would expect to find material in support of via positiva from these sources. Unfortunately there is little written material associated with Shamanism, its study and understanding undertaken mainly by anthropologists, whose frame of reference is rather different to ours here. The Greek polytheism is largely optimistic, but then it is hardly a religion of transcendence. It is in some of the ancient Hindu texts, particularly the Upanishads, that we find a mixture of via positiva and via negativa that form the kind of balance being promoted here. Another Hindu tradition which later entered Buddhism is that of Tantra, where we find a transcendent spirituality that makes explicit use of all the dimensions of human activity, including sex. Saraha's 'Royal Song' is the classic Buddhist Tantric text, prescribing transcendence through activities that were explicitly prohibited by the Buddha in his teachings as described in the Pali Canon. 'India always seems to provide the deepest analysis along with the greatest contradictions. How else could the via positiva practices of Hindu Tantra become an integral part of a branch of Buddhism, that religion that is via negativa par excellence?' In Taoism and Zen we can also find Nature elements and via positiva elements, popularised through such activities as calligraphy, the Zen garden, or sporting activities such as archery and other martial arts. We should not of course always place the emphasis on traditions with a textual basis. If one has a chance to encounter any pagan, Shamanistic or Earth religions through their present representatives then one can study at first hand how the spiritual life is compatible with a deep acceptance of life, the body and Nature. Such encounters are rare, so we turn instead to two great areas of human endeavour, art and science, and see how they can be interpreted in terms of via positiva. via positiva, art and science We saw that to find via positiva in the West we had to turn to a group of poets. What then does poetry, Nature Mysticism and via positiva have in common? Creativity. We have no difficulty recognising poetry as a creative act, and for the Nature mystic both the beauty and the terror of nature are related to its endless creativity (for as we pointed out, without death creation would quickly grind to a halt). 'While we have energy we have creativity, so let our path be via positiva, let us do art, science or whatever. As our energies fade in old age there will be plenty of time for via negativa. What is more it will have a beauty from knowing that while we had the energy we fully participated in the manifest world, seeing it as the manifestation of the divine. Let us not return to the old error of seeing via positiva and via negativa in opposition.' What about science and jnani? If the jnani spiritual orientation is one of enquiry, doubt and a will to penetrate the mysteries of existence, does this not sound like a description of a scientist? The answer is that, yes indeed, there similarities of temperament but profound differences also. We could say that science is a systematic and open enquiry into the deep structure of the objective universe, while jnani represents a systematic and open enquiry into the deep structure of the subjective universe. Such a claim is perhaps controversial, even in the way that it is phrased, in a postmodern era where a Khunian view of science is so influential. This idea will be explored in much greater depth in the section 'jnani and the West', but the next section will look at another kind of 'science', the occult. One more point is worth making in the context of art and science. We saw with Walt Whitman that one is forced to reconsider the distinction between secular and spiritual, as his jnani via positiva can be pursued with no reference to conventional spiritual ideas or traditions (this is explored in more depth in 'selected Masters / Walt Whitman'). We will also find that one of the great jnani Masters of the 20th century, Douglas Harding, has a teaching that can be located in an entirely secular context. There are many who feel that art and science are spheres of endeavour that are ideally suited to the goals of jnani via positiva without the spiritual baggage of the past. Hence we will find that the secular / spiritual distinction is worth considering in more detail, and will be discussed again in Part Two of this site. Jnani and the Occult Introduction If jnani is a path of enquiry, then its central question is, who am I? As the occult presents some possible answers to that question it is worth investigating. The subject of the occult is a tricky one, partly because the term has different connotations for different people. It is defined here as dealing with any aspect of the disembodied life, including spirit worlds, the panoply of deities, angels, fairies, goblins, devils, demons, etc.; the range of supernatural phenomena usually referred to as 'miraculous', and paranormal gifts such as clairvoyance, prophecy, telekinesis and so on. What then is the relationship between jnani and the occult as defined here? If jnani is about a particular route to the transcendent, i.e. the loss of false notions of the self, does the occult help provide true notions? If jnani is about dis-identifying with the manifest world, either through via positiva or via negativa, then is the occult a helpful context for this? If jnani is about the question, who am I?, then does the occult provide an answer this? 'Encounters with the occult may arise in the spiritual life. All the great teachers seem to warn against the occult as a distraction from the transcendent, but perhaps the best advice is simply to ask oneself the question : which is my real interest?' This section is intended to help the seeker delineate the occult from the transcendent. The occult seems to offer the same or a similar goal because it involves the transcendence of the physical body, eternal life (in the spirit world) and the possibility of evolving into higher and higher beings, either as an individual or as a race. One might assume that the occult tends to be a preoccupation amongst the more credible of personalities, and therefor associated with bhakti individuals and traditions. The surprising fact is that reference to the occult is widespread in the jnani traditions, though this may be partly due to a greater literature, or a greater tendency of the jnani to seek knowledge and explanations. It is also surprising how many scientists, who, despite publicly holding materialist beliefs, are privately both credulous and fascinated with the occult (in Newton's time his scientific and occult interests were not seen as contradictory). Some scientists of today hold an irrational hostility to the occult, irrational because the broader evidence is substantial. The Buddha seems very clear on the subject however : disembodied beings may spend aeons in either heavenly states as a reward for personal sacrifice and exemplary behaviour, or equally long periods in tormented states as a result of bad actions. Eventually however, all souls are reborn in the human form, that unique form given the unique potential for liberation, denied to both animals and gods. So what does it mean to live in the spirit world, to have access to it from this one, or to be granted occult powers? One could see this simply as an extension of the manifest world, with all the potentials for joy and suffering that so-called 'normal' reality possesses, but with a wider scope. As a clairvoyant once remarked: 'just because a spirit is without a body, does not mean it is any smarter than when it did have a body.' The Buddha's point is reiterated : the human embodied form is the most precious, so use the opportunity wisely. In the rest of this section we will look in more detail at what the occult entails, and why it is helpful to see it as a separate kind of spiritual life to that of the transcendent. jnani and spirit worlds Throughout history only small numbers of individuals have claimed the ability to enter or to have communication with spirit worlds, and their accounts vary enough to raise the question, are they all describing the same thing? On balance the evidence suggests that the answer to this question is yes. If we examine the writings of the mystical Qabalah and esoteric Yoga, or those of Emanuel Swedenborg and Rudolf Steiner, to take just a few examples, we find substantial correlations. We also find that the occult is presented as a science, that is a systematic enquiry into the domain (of the spirit world), with a body of knowledge and practice. These four occultisms just mentioned have large followings, though followers rarely have the ability to directly verify the propositions in the teachings. The significant propositions of all occult science can be summed up as follows: beings inhabit the spirit world in a 'disembodied' form or with a non-material body, the spirit world is 'better' than the material world, knowledge from the spirit world can inform and guide us in the material world, either through disembodied beings (angels for example) or through embodied humans who have occult gifts (a man like Steiner for example). humans enter the spirit world upon death of the physical body (and my return to a new physical body at a later date), 'The disembodied life is not the same as the transcendent. However, the occult has undeniably enriched human existence, as the work of Rudolf Steiner demonstrates. To engage with the occult may be more a matter of temperament, or seen as part of via positiva. As Ram Dass put it, all is grist to the mill.' Let us examine these four propositions for their significance to the jnani perspective. One could see the idea of a 'disembodied' life as a form of transcendence, because the body at least is transcended. This is probably the most common reason to confuse the occult and the transcendent, or to deny any significant distinction between the two forms of spiritual life. It provides in fact a valuable opportunity to refine the concept of transcendence, as used here. For the jnani the transcendence is of all manifest phenomena, that is a direct engagement with the unmanifest or imperishable (a possibility denied by Mahatma Ghandi for example, but at the heart of the teachings of all the great Masters of transcendence). The disembodied life, according to all occult traditions is not a disengagement with the manifest, but a shifting of one's engagement to a different world or plane of being. For the serious jnani it may be best left at this: that the occult life simply involves a different type of body (some occultists call it the 'body of light'), but possibly just the same emotional and mental life. In other words not a transcendence at all. The second point, that the spirit world is 'better' than the material world, is also worthy of debate. If we look at the writings of Emanuel Swedenborg for example, we find descriptions of extraordinary beauty, with heavens made of light, rainbows, or precious stones. The most appealing part of his account is the all-pervading quality of love to be found in these spirit worlds. Surely love alone is a transcendent quality? No simple answer can be given, though perhaps the appeal of these spirit worlds depends on one's instinct towards via positiva or via negativa. William Blake attacked Swedenborg's teachings on the grounds that they contained only angels and no devils, meaning perhaps that without the risks and dangers of the material world, there could be no real meaning to these heavenly realms. For the Nature mystic, any forest, wood, or even a small clump of trees and bushes is heaven enough, and all the more poignant because it contains death as well as life. What about the third point, that knowledge from the disembodied life can instruct and guide us in the material world? We only have to look at the impact that the work of Rudolf Steiner has had in fields as far apart as medicine, art, architecture, farming and pedagogy, to accept that this proposition is well-founded. However, it has to be said that a close examination of his teachings show nothing that is directly related to the transcendent, or to jnani. Put another way, the occult 'project', as so masterfully carried out by Steiner, is quite different to the transcendent 'project'. The fourth proposition, that of some kind of reincarnation, will be dealt with in the next section. jnani and reincarnation Almost all occult or esoteric systems (whether of the East or the West) believe in reincarnation, though the forms may differ. Does reincarnation have a significance for the transcendent in general and for jnani in particular? It has already been suggested that the entire occult 'project' has no direct bearing on the transcendent, but within that context reincarnation is still worth investigating. Reincarnation is of particular significance to the transcendent traditions of the East, because the transcendent goal (moksha, liberation, nirvana) is often couched in terms of the end of the cycle of birth and death. 'The goal of transcendence in the East is often couched in terms of an end to the cycles of birth and death. If reincarnation is true, then a desire for transcendence seems equatable with a desire for the end of any kind of existence. This is an issue that cannot lightly be dismissed.' If we take reincarnation literally (and for most Westerners this is an unusual intellectual posture to adopt) then are we to take Enlightenment as the literal end of this process? The Buddhist literature of the Pali canon suggests that we do, despite the Buddha's introduction of the term 'Anatman', meaning literally 'no soul', and intended to deny the idea that the personality has any eternal qualities. Many individuals in contemporary society do come to remember their previous lives, perhaps through regression workshops such as those run by therapist Roger Woolger. The great value for jnani is that it profoundly challenges one's assumptions about one's personality : if I was someone else before, then what does it mean to be me now? If such an engagement can bring about a more fluid sense of self then it is helpful. On the other hand a preoccupation with past lives can make one even more obsessed with one's personal history, and the transcendent vision then recedes further into the distance. There seems to be no easy answers to the issues raised by reincarnation. On the other hand, when we recall that the priority in the Buddha's teachings, and for any jnani, is to live in the present we can see the question in a different light. In the eternal now of the present, uncluttered by memory or imagination, the cycles of birth and death are already vanquished. Occult Christianity Earlier we made the distinction between the social, the occult, and the transcendent as ways to live a spiritual life, or as representing different spiritual understandings. In this section we look at how occult or esoteric Christianity lays claim to Christ, against the equally plausible claims that he taught a social or transcendent spirituality. Because the historical evidence surrounding Jesus is so slight, no conclusions are intended here, merely some landmarks in the debate. While the New Testament has received endless revision and commentary, the Gospel of St Thomas is relatively uncluttered by historical interpretation, and is also a document that can be read as a jnani teaching. The canonical Gospels are open to wider interpretation, perhaps epitomised by the two possible translations of Luke 17:21. The Revised English Bible has Jesus say that the kingdom of God is among you, while the King James Bible has Jesus say that the kingdom of God is within you. The first interpretation is one of a social spirituality, while the second is of a transcendent spirituality (using the definitions here). While the various church traditions prefer the first interpretation, the esoteric or occult tradition within Christianity has taken yet a third interpretation, of Christ as an esoteric Master. 'Christ's teachings can be taken as either a social, occult, or transcendent spirituality, using the definitions here. Esoteric Christianity is a tradition of occult teachings, but the point is not to discover which one is correct, but rather to further delineate the boundaries between the occult and the transcendent.' The esoteric or occult traditions within Christianity are many and various, though none are sanctioned by the Roman Catholic Church, or any mainstream church. Some, like Rosicrucianism and Freemasonry are traditions with many influences, while others such as the Swedenborg New Church or Steiner's Anthroposophy are modelled on the teachings of a single influential founder. Like mainstream Christianity, the esoteric traditions also owe a lot to Judaism, though in the esoteric case it is to the Qabalah. If esoteric Christianity is largely hidden from public view, then even more so transcendent Christianity. While the bhakti mystics of Christianity have lived on the fringes of orthodox approval, the jnani mystics of Christianity, such as Eckhart, encountered even greater difficulties. In the section 'jnani and the West' we shall look at these issues, and also at the major non-Christian jnani tradition in the West: neo-Platonism. Occult Buddhism The origins of Christianity in terms of what exactly Jesus taught are obscure, though we have a better idea of how Christianity developed and became a world religion. This status was achieved through a single historical accident : the adoption of Christianity by the Emperor Constantine as the state religion of the Roman empire. Buddhism also achieved its widespread acceptance (across countries from Afghanistan to Japan) through its adoption by an emperor, in this case King Ashoka. The similarities end there however, because, while both Emperors had the natural preoccupations of state, Ashoka was greatly taken by the pacifist message of the new religion, Constantine clearly not. The propagation and tenure of Ashoka's empire, though it must have made use of force to some degree, was (after Ashoka's conversion) carried out in as peaceful a way as possible, and with great deference to local religions. This meant that Buddhism absorbed local religions, such as Zoroastrianism in Afghanistan, the Bon religion in Tibet, and Taoism in China, to become a highly varied religion, much as Hinduism is. From the Pali Canon it is clear that the Buddha was creating a jnani religion of transcendence. However it quickly gained a social dimension with its community (sangha) and the spiritual rules of conduct for the community. When it spread it also developed a lay following which broadened its social dimension (using 'social' in the sense defined here). It also absorbed occult traditions, in particular in Tibet. 'Buddhism was open to diverse influences from as along ago as the 4th century BC, including that of occult traditions. The Tibetan Book of the Dead, and the Life of Milarepa are just two examples of how occult knowledge and jnani transcendence can become intertwined.' The Tibetan Book of the Dead is a good example of how Buddhism absorbed the occult elements of the Bon religion (which is an ancient Shamanistic tradition). The book is a manual for helping the deceased in the preparation for dying and for the 'bardo realm' of disembodied experience before rebirth, the essential aim being to prevent the soul from taking birth again, or if it does, to help it gain an 'auspicious' birth. (The engagement with reincarnation in this way is shown in the contemporary political drama, acted out between Tibet, China and India of the spiritual succession in modern Tibetan Buddhism of the Karmapa, a titular role that one is reborn into.) The Tibetan Book of the Dead, while it incorporates occult elements (as defined here) is however a book of jnani transcendence, showing how close these areas can come. The occultism in it is always as a description of the structure of the human condition, and in the service of a better understanding of the way to transcendence. This is in contrast to much of occultism which seeks knowledge for its own sake (as a science), for dominion over the occult realms (as an application of that science), or for power in the service of disreputable ends. Another Tibetan Buddhist text that is notable for the mixture of jnani transcendence and occultism is the popular Life of Milarepa. The story is of the search for Enlightenment by Milarepa, which can be read as standard Buddhist account of the path to enlightenment, but its popularity derives more from the occult elements (Milarepa uses occult powers when young to take revenge on his family's persecutors) and from sympathy for the extremes of hardship undergone by him in his search. For us it is also a good example of the via negativa, in that, unlike his teacher, Milarepa does not take a wife or property, living instead a life of harsh asceticism. It may give us a clue as to the temperament that is inclined to the via negativa, one that is penitent for past sins. Yoga and jnani Hinduism, as pointed out earlier, is a mixture of all the orientations and paths that are under discussion here. As a religion it may have developed in ancient times from Shamanism, through polytheism, to monotheism, but all three are visible in the religious life of India today. Hinduism contains well developed social, occult, and transcendent elements, as defined here, and, as noted before, seems to balance the needs of bhakti and jnani in its congregation. Likewise we find both via positiva and via negativa in its traditions, though the via positiva of Hindu Tantra lives somewhat on the fringes of mainstream practice. One of Hinduism's central jnani transcendent teachings is that of the yoga tradition, as codified by Patanjali at some point around 300 CE. Patanjali's Yoga Sutras, as they are known, represent a good example of jnani and the occult intertwined, and were reinterpreted by the esoteric Christian and Theosophist, Alice Bailey in the early 20th century. The bulk of the Yoga Sutras are a beautifully constructed treatise on transcendence, couched in the language of jnani, but acknowledging just the once, and for the sake of completeness, the bhakti path. It is divided into four parts, of which the third deals with occult powers, including the remembrance of past lives, telepathy or clairvoyance, astral travel, and feats of physical endurance (Alice Bailey counts 23 such powers in all). The term 'yoga' means union, but is used as an overall term for a range of spiritual practices and traditions. In the West a 'yoga' class is usually the yoga of postures, properly termed 'hatha' yoga. Patanjali's yoga is called Raja Yoga or Kriya Yoga. It is an entirely inward activity whose goal is a state termed 'samadhi'. 'The Kriya Yoga of Patanjali, from its codification in the 3rd century CE to the 20th century interpretations by Alice Bailey and Paramahansa Yogananda, offer yet another illustration of the intertwining of the occult and jnani transcendent. A study of this tradition can help one decide where one's instincts lie.' A more recent account of the yoga path and its relationship with the occult is to be found in the Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda, an approximate contemporary of Alice Bailey. Whereas the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, with the exception of some of chapter three, can be read as a purely transcendent discipline, Yogananda describes a Kriya Yoga that is almost completely occult. In contrast, another approximate contemporary of Yogananda, Ramana Maharshi (whom Yogananda visited in 1935), seemed to teach and practice a transcendence devoid of any occult overtones. Examining one's responses to the lives and teachings of these two men can go a long way towards an understanding of one's own instincts to the two forms of spiritual life: the occult and the transcendent. They may be intertwined, but most of us will place an emphasis on one or the other. The Jnani Experience Introduction The jnani experience is known in its depth to very few, yet it is in easy reach. The religious language of the West revolves around devotion, prayer and service, none of which are foreign to the jnani, but none of which adequately describe the condition. It is not that the West has missed out on its share of great jnanis, but history has recast them as saints, heretics, philosophers or poets. 'The jnani experience has never been recognised in the West, so we don't have a language to describe it. It is an expanded sense of identity within which the cosmos plays out its drama, or it is an identification with nothingness itself. Its beauty is indescribable in any language.' Although the jnani experience can be described in the negative, for example as a non-devotional spirituality, this fails to recognise that it is a vital spiritual concept in its own right. Many scientists and intellectuals for example reject religion because they are not aware that there is a great and well-trodden spiritual path that suits their temperament perfectly — jnani. This section tries to convey what the jnani experience is about, and to sum up the points made so far. It is also a preparation for the longer sections in part two of this site. The jnani path It has been made explicit that the jnani path is not that of the devotee, or of the occultist. It is a journey to one's true self, most usually starting with doubt and enquiry, progressing through the shedding of false conceptions of the self, until the simple and peaceful perspective is attained, the perspective of nonduality. 'The jnani path takes the individual back to where they were. It is a journey home involving the understanding of truth about human identity. Its discipline involves the subjugation of the imaginative faculty to the point where it is perfectly aligned with the world as such. Western philosophy came to the conclusion that this is impossible. Western philosophy never came across jnani.' The jnani aspirant has some of the qualities of the warrior (courage and confidence), some of the qualities of a scientist (enquiry and rigour), and some of the qualities of a child (receptivity and wonder). A full picture of the jnani path takes time to build up because it has never been discussed in the West. The section 'selected Masters' describes the lives and teachings of a number of great jnanis in addition to a few selected bhaktis whose lives and teachings are relevant. The section 'jnani and the West' attempts to pinpoint the historical accidents that led to the loss of jnani even as a concept in the West and to show how this may have led to the origins of science. jnani metaphors Because it is so hard to speak about jnani, particularly in English, it is also hard to recognise the many jnani paths and individuals from the different metaphors they use. Once an aspirant or community accepts a metaphor or terminology its continual use generally pushes the meaning away from that which the Master intended : the 'kingdom of heaven' and 'nirvana' are good examples. One of the purposes of this site is to help people from different jnani traditions recognise their common ground, and so a list of some of the main metaphors is presented below. Great jnani teachers may use completely new and appropriate metaphors which gain little widespread acceptance however, for example Douglas Hardings's 'headlessness'. These will be discussed in the section on Selected Masters. 'Jnani can only be described through metaphor. Once the Master has discovered an effective metaphor it can take on a life of its own, and its original power and meaning may eventually be lost, or even inverted.' Freedom, liberation, moksha: the traditional metaphor in Hinduism. It appeals, because the desire for freedom is a deeply-held instinct, but is vulnerable to the question: 'freedom from what'? Enlightenment: this metaphor resonates with the intuition that religious experience is something to do with an inner 'light'. Problematic, because the 'Enlightenment' in 17/18th century Europe had little to do with spiritual enlightenment, and was largely instrumental in the development of a secular, even atheistic world-view. Divine Darkness: this metaphor is rare (it originates from the pseudo-Dyonisius), but is valuable because there are times in the life of a jnani when complete withdrawal from the senses is important. It is also a good metaphor to meditate on, because it helps us let go of the literality of 'Enlightenment'. nirvana: this was the Buddha's central metaphor, and meant, in the Pali language, 'to extinguish'. This is a good example of a metaphor that has taken on a life of its own, as most people now consider the word to be roughly synonymous with 'heaven'. the Non-Dual: this is the traditional metaphor of the Advaita or non-devotional branch of Hinduism. It might be considered to be the most descriptive of all the jnani metaphors because it goes to the heart of the experience. For the same reason it may also be the least accessible. The Unitive state: this metaphor is found in Christian mysticism, and in that context it implies union with God. Otherwise it has basically the same intention as 'non-dual'. The Kingdom of Heaven: this was Jesus' central metaphor (also 'Kingdom of God'). The image of a kingdom resonated strongly with the Jewish people of the time, because they were under Roman occupation. Unfortunately many people both then and through history have read a political agenda into Jesus' teachings because of the word 'kingdom'. Despite that the metaphor is good for the realised jnani because it reflects the grandeur of the experience. jnani practice The essential jnani practice is meditation and the essential bhakti practice is prayer (or worship). (Such a categorical statement of the difference between jnani and bhakti practice may seem inflexible, but, because the concept of jnani is so unknown to the West, the point is being emphasised to help in its understanding.) Meditation is of the mind, prayer is of the heart. But what is the meditation practice at the core of the jnani experience? Krishnamurti, the great jnani Master of the 20th century, often spoke of meditation as a state, but denied that it could be practised. In contrast we see a wide variety of meditative practices taught by other Masters and traditions. Meditation is popularly associated with concentration, or focusing the mind on some suitable object or concept (and in even more populist thinking the 'navel'). 'Meditation is often understood as concentration. This is a first approximation, often refined to the idea of stilling the mind. This still raises a number of problems, because it places the emphasis on control rather than awareness. Stillness of the mind is certainly a characteristic of the enlightened ones, but is it a cause or a symptom? And we should also ask whether it is equally important in via positiva as in via negativa.' Concentration may be a valuable skill to learn in the early stages, and it is true that the fully developed jnani often emphasises stillness of the mind. This is because the job of the discursive mind is to create distinctions, all of which lead to a false sense of separation with the manifest reality. When the mind is still the illusion of separation falls away. For those on the via negativa all that remains is to share this silence with others. For those on the via positiva there remains a more active relationship with mind, though it can never again engage in the fantasy of separate being. In jnani as with bhakti, one may attempt to practice attributes that one observes in the Master, or one may be exhorted to do so, including silence of the mind. In the end it is unclear however whether these are attributes that one can practice at all, or whether they arise because enlightenment has taken hold of an individual for quite mysterious reasons (as we shall see with Ramana Maharshi). This observation should not be taken as an encouragement to laziness however. If in doubt meditate! (This is the jnani version of Pascal's Wager). jnani and the intellect Having defined jnani as an orientation to the transcendent based on the mind, it becomes important to understand the relationship between jnani and the intellect. Krishnamurti entitled one of his larger book compilations 'The Awakening of Intelligence', where the intelligence he was referring to was the jnani quality of the mind (though he never used that word). Krishnamurti was one of the great jnanis of all time, but did not posses an academic kind of intelligence, and as a young man failed the Cambridge entrance exams repeatedly, despite the best in private tuition. How then are we to understand the difference between what is conventionally called intelligence in the West, and the kind of intelligence that jnani calls for? To do this we need to retrace the intellectual history of the West, right back to Plato. This will be done is some detail in the section 'jnani and the West', but for now it is not hard to recognise that a rather analytical kind of intelligence has for centuries been elevated by Western culture over and above intuition and insight. This form of intelligence is masculine, brittle, erudite and confident, and is responsible for both the triumphs and tragedies of the West. 'The West has elevated a certain kind of intelligence over all others, one that could be called broadly scientific. While possessing some valuable qualities, many underlying assumptions in the development of this intelligence are inimical to the spiritual life.' At the same time the dominant religion of the West, Christianity, is a bhakti-oriented religion, demanding faith and obedience. This meant that the intellectuals of the West did not have a natural spiritual mode of expression (other than through more underground spiritual traditions like neo-Platonism). This is especially true after the Scholasticism of the medieval period petered out, leaving the jnani-oriented individual little religious scope. Once science became established in the 17th century the intellectual development of the West took its tone from that endeavour, and hence a certain kind of intelligence became valued, one that could penetrate and analyse the objective world, not the subjective world. Summary The next part of the site now develops ideas about jnani in much greater depth, through an examination of Masters and traditions from all round the world. Before going on it will be useful to summarise the main points so far. We can do this with four simple distinctions. secular and spiritual (raised in connection with Whitman and Harding) social, occult and transcendent (types of spiritual life) bhakti and jnani (orientation of heart or head) via positiva and via negativa (embrace or renounce the manifest world) 'Jnani is a radical idea for the West. It has been overlooked through a number of historical accidents, yet is simple, profound, and highly relevant to the new millennium. Its importance also lies in the emphasis it gives to bhakti. Jnani will only have been understood properly if bhakti also becomes an accepted part of mainstream Western life.' Although the whole emphasis in this site is on jnani it will have failed in its purpose if it only establishes that term in Western spiritual thinking. The success of jnani as a way of approaching the divine will be in proportion to the degree that it argues for bhakti. The devotional spirituality is equally profound, but has lost its champions from amongst the Western intelligentsia, and its own voice is too subtle in a world of 'clever' people to claim the place it deserves.