Inner Awakening

And
Practice of Nada Yoga

Edward Salim Michael

 Translated from the French by Tania Doney

Originally published in French by Guy Tredaniel Editeur under the title

“Pratique Spirituelle et Eveil intérieur ” © Guy Tredaniel Editeur 1990-
2010

Copyright English version © 2017 by the Estate of Edward Salim

Michael

Michèle Michael - France

www.edwardsalim-michael.org

www.meditation-presence.com

Kindle Edition

Distributed by Amazon.
 Also by Edward Salim Michael

- The Law of Attention, Nada Yoga and the Way of Inner Vigilance

(previously titled The Way of Inner Vigilance)

- The Supreme Quest

- Obstacles to Enlightenment and Liberation

- Fruits of Awakening

- Awakening, a matter of life or death

His Biography :

The Price of a Remarkable Destiny

by Michele Michael

and also by Michele Michael Journeys in Land of Awakening and

Sainthood
Dedication

To my wife Michèle, for her faithful love and her continual support.
 CONTENTS
About the Author

The Quest

Preface

Introduction

1 Waking sleep and Nocturnal Sleep

2 Conscious Efforts and Renunciation

3 Nada Yoga

4 Spiritual Practice in Active Life

5 Mental Passivity and Laziness

6 Mental Discipline and Rigor

7 Attention and its Crucial Role in the Life of the Aspirant

8 Introversion and Extroversion

9 Self-Surrender

10 Liberation and Choice

 About the Author

The author at the age of 75.

Born in England in 1921, of Anglo-Indian descent, Edward Salim

Michael spent his whole youth in the Middle East from the prewar period.
Parental peregrinations brought him back to London just before the storm of
the Second World War, from which he emerged terribly bruised.

He then threw himself with the exigency of a great artist into a

symphonic-music composer’s career. Attracted by French music, he decided
to come to study in Paris, where he went through the pangs of creation in
excessively difficult conditions for years.

It was in 1949 when, for the first time, he saw a Buddha statue. From
that decisive moment onward, in parallel with his musician’s career, he
engaged himself with passion in a sustained meditation practice, which,
because of the exceptional capacities of concentration that he had
developed as a composer, allowed him rapidly to have profound spiritual
experiences. After five years of unrelenting efforts in the midst of the
agitation and tribulations of the modern world, he had, at the age of thirty-
three, an extremely powerful experience of awakening, to what one can call
his Buddha-Nature, as well as the Infinite in oneself.

Feeling a deep urge to dedicate himself totally to his inner life, he

decided to renounce music to answer the irresistible call of India, country of
his maternal grandmother. There he spent almost seven years, during which
he never stopped deepening his spiritual practice.

After coming back to France, he started transmitting with compassion

the fruits of his inner experiences and mystical understandings to his pupils,
for whom he has written several books, the last one printed in May 2008.

He left this world the end of November 2006 at the age of eighty-five.
 Note from the Author concerning the Use of the Words
Aspirant and Seeker

After long reflection and hesitation, I finally thought it best to address

this teaching directly to the “aspirant” and “seeker” equally. The reader will
meet both words used interchangeably throughout the following work. In
this context, “aspirant” and “seeker” apply to the same person in this
spiritual quest.

I deplore the masculine connotation of these words, thus giving the

impression of excluding women. The predominance of a masculine
language is all the more unjust and restrictive in that, in general, women are
largely as motivated as men, if not more, in their spiritual practice.[1]

The “aspirant,” or the “seeker,” is someone on the spiritual path. Such

people are striving to find their True Identity, a state of vast luminous
Consciousness already within them, but obscured by their ordinary minds
and the clouds of their incessant thoughts. They are men or women
struggling for enlightenment and their emancipation. In the sense in which I
write, this applies as much to those claiming proficiency as to those who
have yet to find it.
 The Quest

The individual who has become dependent on external conditions

(sometimes agreeable, sometimes disagreeable, ceaselessly kindling
attraction or repulsion), in order to have a feeling of himself, lives, without
knowing it, in a state of perpetual servitude to an unpredictable, sorrowful,
and uncertain existence.

A radical change of perspective has to occur within him, a turning of his

gaze towards his own interior; to liberate himself from external stimuli he
needs to be able to feel himself and feel his existence.

Through constant and serious practice of meditation and various

spiritual exercises carried out in active life, it is possible for an aspirant to
discover a state of being and consciousness beyond the activities of the
mind and not dependent on the conditions of the visible world—a state of
being and consciousness where the Silence and the Eternal Present of his
Celestial Nature reign.

Edward Salim Michael

 Preface

When I finished my first book, The Law of Attention, which—because

of my lack of education and the particularly difficult conditions in which it
was written—took me four years of unflagging work, I decided that I would
never again write another book.

However, some years later, seeing the difficulties some of my students

were encountering in understanding what is involved in authentic spiritual
practice, as well as in realizing with what seriousness such practice should
be approached, and noting the illusions of a number of people who came to
see me after having read that first book—and who seemed not to have
sufficiently apprehended what such inhabitual work meant or what they
were really seeking—I judged it necessary to write this new work.

I have to ask those of my readers who are not familiar with what I said
in the preface of my previous book to forgive the stylistic imperfections of
my writing. I feel I should repeat that, as I spent my whole childhood in
various Eastern countries, I never went to school and I am still semi-
illiterate. I owe immense gratitude to my wife, Michèle, for the help that,
with such patience and such great understanding, she continually gives me
in correcting my grammatical errors and my poor turns of phrase, as well as
the countless spelling mistakes that pepper my texts—indeed, I have only
ever learned French orally.

I have no pretensions whatsoever to being a writer and I remain entirely

conscious of my limitations. The value of this work—if it has one—lies in
the fact that it is based purely on my own experiences, earned through long
years of hard and solitary spiritual practice, and not on intellectual
speculations or book-based knowledge. I still experience the same
difficulties in reading a book and, hardly have I skimmed over a few pages,
than I find myself incapable of continuing, because I cannot follow the
author’s thought; I am not an intellectual.
 I urgently request that my future publishers and any potential translators
do not permit themselves any cuts or any modifications of my text on the
pretext of any sort of improvement to the style.

It is my profound wish that the little that what I have tried to convey
here might prove useful, not only to my students, but to any other person
who reads this book.
 Introduction

This book develops certain very important points that might help a
sincere seeker to advance in her spiritual practice and to recognize the
obstacles that she will inevitably encounter on the difficult path that leads to
her True Being.

After having often found myself faced with a delicate subject during the
many years consecrated to teaching my students, I feel obliged to address it
here and to explain why I have always refused to answer certain questions
put to me by people who come to see me for the first time, questions such
as:

“What is the astral world?”

“What is there in the Hereafter?”

“What is an Angel?”

“What do you think of clairvoyance?”

“What is the causal body?” etc.

These questions and others of the same order cannot in any way be
useful to a beginner, who does not even know what she is really seeking at
the start of her adventure in such a serious undertaking. These are
absolutely not the kinds of interrogations that should preoccupy her.

Answering these kinds of questions—if it is even possible to provide

answers to them—would only arouse in the questioner imaginings of all
sorts leading to intellectual speculations that, not only would cause her to
lose her way and take her further from what should be her true goal, but
would also cause others to lose their way through the unverifiable claims
she would then begin to spread around her.
 My only response to these kinds of questions is invariable: firstly,
occupy yourself only with your spiritual practice and seek to know yourself
—with all your undesirable tendencies and habits. Later, if you come to
discover the Real in yourself and behind the phenomenal world, we will see
if you still want to ask these questions in the same way—when they are
only out of simple curiosity—or even if you still want to ask them at all.

Any mental manipulation or unverifiable speculation on subjects

belonging to an invisible Universe, so different from what one is used to
knowing, can only be a betrayal! In effect, the words used in everyday
language only refer to the tangible world—an impermanent and eternally
changing world—and will never be able to explain correctly what belongs
to an entirely different dimension, where laws reign that are
incomprehensible to the limited minds of men and women who have not
accomplished true spiritual work on themselves.

Not only have I been suspicious of and fiercely dismissed all that is
linked to occultism (divination, clairvoyance, magic, seeking of para-this or
para-that phenomena, etc), but I have also strictly forbidden the people who
come to see me from interesting themselves in such things. I have sought
only to give them the means to help them know themselves and discover
what is veiled from their inner vision by the visible and by the unfavorable
habits within them, which constitute obstacles to their quest.

If the aspirant succeeds in finding within her the strength to put into
practice, with all her seriousness and all her sincerity, what has been
conveyed to her, she will one day know for herself what she wants to know
or, more precisely, what she must know, when she is ready to assume the
responsibility of such out-of-the-ordinary Knowledge—Knowledge she will
have to carry within her and protect as scrupulously as possible so as not to
subsequently betray It. At that moment, if she is really honest and sincere in
her approach to such an important quest, she will, in her turn, only be able
to remain silent on any question belonging to a sacred and invisible domain,
through fear that her words might be used by people seeking only prestige
and the admiration of others.

Once again, it must be emphasized that as long as the seeker has not
clearly seen the undesirable tendencies she carries within her and these have
not passed through the fire of assiduous work on herself in order to
transform them, all that she hears on subjects that are beyond her will
inevitably only be received by her ordinary self—and will infallibly be
misunderstood and distorted. Moreover, she will subsequently be unable to
prevent herself wanting to use what she has heard to show off and exploit it
for her personal interest; thus, she will only cause others to lose their way—
after being trapped and losing her own way.

It is necessary to use all means to struggle, as far as possible, against

distortions installing themselves in a spiritual practice—which is inevitable
when there is incomprehension—as has unfortunately occurred in almost all
the religions of this planet, leading to such regrettable quarrels, often even
within the same religion.

If one asked someone of Catholovian[2] confession to become

Protolovian, she would be shocked, because, for her, God is Catholovian!
Suggest to an Ortholovian that she should convert to the Catholovian cult
and she will stare at you in alarm, because, for her, God is Ortholovian!
And this is despite the fact that these are doctrines of the same religion...
So, how great would be the revolt of an individual raised in a certain
religion if she were ordered to renounce it in order to adhere to another? In
this way, the conflicts resulting from religious hatred, which have their
origins in beliefs without knowledge, spread and perpetuate across the
world.

Through ignorance, one does not see that the other, whom one considers
different from oneself, is animated by the same Divine Source and that the
wrong one does her, one also does to oneself. It is for this reason that the
expressions I use in my works, such as “Superior State of Being” or
“Spiritual Awakening” or “direct Experience of the Sublime” do not belong
to any religion and therefore cannot either clash with anyone’s religious
convictions or disturb anyone in her devotional practice. If one seeks truth,
it is indispensable to be honest with oneself and to realize clearly that any
belief only imprisons a human being within herself and inevitably separates
her from others. Only direct experience of the Infinite can unite her with her
fellow.
 The questions that certain people sometimes ask me lead me to explain
again that the books I have written are based on direct experiences that I
have been able to have through hard and tenacious spiritual work—spiritual
work that I have always pursued despite the difficulties I have had to
contend with and to which, throughout the whole of my life, has been added
terribly poor health.

Because of the cultural shock I underwent in my adolescence when I

had to leave the East and because of my complete lack of education, I
suffered from cruel solitude during almost the entirety of my earthly
existence—even more so because my extremely artistic temperament did
not allow me to integrate into the Western world, which is so intellectual
and rational—until the moment I met my wife, Michèle, who has played
such an important role in my life by encouraging me and helping me to
achieve my destiny. Without her constant support, I would never have been
able to write my books—I would never even have been able to imagine
setting myself to such an undertaking!

I want to thank Jacques Godet again for having helped me to improve

my French while this work was being revised with a view to this new
edition.

I would like to specify that all the spiritual exercises that figure in my
books, as well as many others that I have taught directly to my students,
have been invented by myself for my own struggles on this arduous path.

In this book, as in the others, I have only occupied myself with

providing a serious seeker with the means that might permit her to carry out
serious work on herself so as to come to know herself and discover her
Celestial Origin. It is for her then to make the necessary efforts if she
wishes to achieve this so out-of-the-ordinary result.
 SUPPORT

Hold on to and still hold on to another state of being and consciousness;

hold onto it despite all the problems that one might encounter
throughout this form of life, full of uncertainties and vicissitudes.

Edward Salim Michael

 1 - Waking sleep and Nocturnal
Sleep

Hardly has the breath in taken place than it moves inevitably towards
the breath out and the breath out, in its turn, only heralds a new breath in.

From the moment the day begins to break, it unfailingly makes towards
the dusk and the dusk hurries inexorably towards a new dawn.

All of creation is, from the beginning, destined to dissolution and

dissolution, in its turn, is only the prelude to a new creation.

In the fall, nature can only gradually slip into winter’s sleep, but will it
not sooner or later reawaken with the resurgence of spring?

Thus, like any created phenomenon, what is born cannot do otherwise

than lose its initial life force and sink into the sleep of death, but does the
sleep of death not also summon the dawn of a rebirth?

Perhaps, in the end, nocturnal sleep and death are necessary phenomena
in the Universe in order that their opposites might be recognized:
awakening and life. It may even be, because of the law of gravity and the
tendency to inertia inherent in every created thing, that it is necessary to
undergo countless repetitions of this mysterious sleep and this death before
one day coming to apprehend and appreciate the true meaning of awakening
and life. And, behind all these visible changes, does there not exist
something inexpressible that is not subject to all this incessant flux? Is there
not something, ordinarily elusive, that has known no beginning and that,
consequently, can have no end? When travelling through the
incommensurable space of the Cosmos, is it ever possible to discover where
it begins and where it ends? Or is it really without any limit?
 * * *

Before finding themselves projected into the turbulence of manifest

existence, human beings slept in a strange, unconscious tranquility. In this
state of sleep, perhaps they were not at their ease and they were lacking
something that cannot ordinarily be apprehended. After all, and despite all
the suffering that inevitably accompanies every act of creation, perhaps
incarnation in the tangible is a necessary fall in order to allow human
beings, when they awaken, to consciously know themselves as well as to
recognize their invisible Essence, which is ordinarily so mysterious and
unfathomable.

Any visible movement in the phenomenal world necessarily supposes,

in the background, something immutable by way of which it can be
perceived. In the same way, everything that is animated by life unavoidably
involves, in the background, something immutable, belonging to an
invisible and usually elusive Universe, by way of which alone one might—
without perhaps being conscious of it at the beginning, apprehend that
which is created and “mutable.”

Is there not, buried deep within every incarnate being, a constant

dissatisfaction which, without him realizing it, drives him to vainly seek the
immutable in the “mutable?” Thus, he vainly chases the definitive
fulfillment of his desires in the external world, instead of turning his gaze
towards his own interior so as to come to discover and recognize, through
direct experience, the immutable Source whence he sprang forth and into
which he will inexorably be reabsorbed on the day that the force animating
his corporeal life is exhausted.

In all men and all women—and even in the animals—lies, in the depths
of their being, a sharp and painful aspiration to find lasting happiness again.
From time immemorial, human beings have never ceased to try to resolve
the problems of existence while thinking that they would afterwards be able
to remain in perpetual tranquility. However, every problem resolved has
only given way to another—often more complicated to settle than the one
before.
 Moreover, almost everything they have invented up to the present day
has only served, most of the time, to bring them increasing concerns
because, as they draw further away from their Primordial Source, from
which alone they can act with wisdom, their inventions are taken over,
unbeknownst to them, by the inferior desires of their profane self; then they
are driven to act in their own interest alone, without being capable of
reflecting on the unfortunate consequences their acts have on the lives of
others—or even on the world—in this way leaving their descendants as well
as Great Nature a heavy and sorrowful heritage of errors to put right.

Furthermore, when destructive forces awaken within them, blinded by

their primary urges coming from their inferior nature, they may go as far as
to seek to annihilate their fellows, either openly, by always finding a good
reason to accomplish their plans, or surreptitiously, by manipulating the
psyche of others through subtle suggestion.

It is a very sad destiny that every newborn[3] incarnated in the

phenomenal world is strangely subject to; indeed, in advancing towards
adulthood, human beings lose, little by little, the immaculate state whence
they emerged. And it is in this condition of forgetfulness or absence to
themselves, whose weightiness they cannot grasp, that their existence
unfolds—a particular absence that ceaselessly increases as they age, until
the moment that, suddenly, the shadow of death rises before them to remind
them that the hour is come to honor the appointment they made on the very
day of their birth ... and that they seem to have forgotten throughout their
lives.

Ordinarily, human beings do not realize the way in which they are
absent to themselves. If they are told, they will respond with indignation:
“As I can see you and hear you speak, how can I be absent?”

Because of the considerable difference that exists between nighttime

sleep and apparent awakening during the day, they have the impression that,
once they have emerged from their nocturnal sleep, they are really present
and conscious of the world around them. They do not realize how they are
absent and sleep within themselves in their diurnal state. As everything is
relative, in relation to this particular awakening required of them in spiritual
practice, their state of diurnal awakening is only, in fact, another type of
sleep—a sleep that ordinarily they cannot understand.

It must not be forgotten that, on a Universal scale too, everything is

relative. Thus, the sensation of time and level of consciousness are not the
same for a microscopic cell, an ant, a human being, a star, or a galaxy. All
living creatures inhabiting this planet apprehend what death is and fear it
when their existence is threatened—even though they possess different
degrees of intelligence and different levels of consciousness.

In human beings as well, there are different levels of intelligence and

consciousness, which causes them to perceive life and death differently,
according to their degree of evolution. Thus, for most people, death is
feared and regarded as the total annihilation of themselves, whereas, for
some, it is birth into the phenomenal world that is considered as a sort of
death and physical death as a door towards True Life.

Most of those who fear the loss of their corporeal envelope, in reality do
not see that their existence unfolds only in a kind of relative death, in a
waking sleep and an absence to themselves that prevents them knowing
their True Nature and True Life.

* * *

Someone is sleeping; he dreams that he is at the foot of a very high bare

mountain whose summit is hidden by ominous dark clouds. An unreal
atmosphere reigns around him. Suddenly, a rock comes loose and rushes
down towards him with a terrifying racket; he is in a state of terror! For as
long as he continues to sleep and the dream lasts, he believes in its reality;
however, the moment his eyes open, he realizes, with relief, that what
frightened him so was only an illusion.

Just as there are different degrees of intelligence and consciousness in

the Universe, there are also different degrees of sleep and awakening. A
possibility is offered to human beings to awaken to a completely different
reality within themselves, through which they can realize that what they
hitherto took for a normal state of awakening is, in fact, only a sort of
waking sleep—even though this state seems to them very far from that they
know when they are lost in their nocturnal sleep.

Inner awakening is completely different; it is a state that is impossible to

apprehend without specific spiritual practice that obliges human beings to
be conscious of themselves in a way that is completely inhabitual to them. It
is only when they succeed in attaining this state of intense consciousness of
themselves that it is possible for them to recognize another Universe that
they carry in their beings, a Universe that is not subject to the laws of the
physical world, which itself is in perpetual flux and destined to disintegrate
sooner or later.

When he sets himself to spiritual practice, the seeker must come to

realize that his only chance of awakening to this other aspect of his nature
depends on the efforts he must make to struggle against the strange waking
sleep in which he passes his terrestrial existence. However, through a
curious psychological phenomenon, that he may not recognize at the
beginning, he encounters a resistance within himself when it comes to
making the efforts that would lead him towards this inner awakening.

This “absence to himself”—which, in general, he cannot or rather, in a

way that is completely incomprehensible to him, that he does not want to
see in himself—is the enemy against which he must struggle throughout his
life. It is as though he dare not confront this particularity of his incarnate
nature. He is afraid of admitting the reality of this sleep within himself
because there is, buried somewhere in his being, a secret desire to remain in
this state—a state that he likes and that he does not want to lose. His
condition of waking sleep demands no effort from him; it occurs all by
itself. Quite conversely, this inner awakening constantly demands tenacious
work of him. Now, as he carries within him, inherent in his nature, a
tendency to passivity, the effort he must make to establish himself in this
particular state of awakening deters him.

As he cannot maintain himself for long enough in a state of presence

that is not habitual to him, he is, consequently, incapable of realizing what
he loses that is inestimable when he again becomes absent to himself,
engulfed in his condition of forgetfulness and waking sleep. Moreover, in
this way, he never comes to see that it is he who wishes to allow himself to
be overwhelmed by this mysterious inner sleep, with his own consent.

When night falls and spreads its somber veil over the Earth, human
beings prepare to welcome their nocturnal sleep. And, when they are finally
carried away into the world of dreams, not only is it with their own consent,
but they are even very displeased if someone dares to prevent them
sleeping. In the same way, the aspirant carries within him an unavowed
desire to sink into the apparent tranquility of his waking sleep. He does not
realize that he is being manipulated by an aspect of his nature—which he
believes to be himself—that is totally opposed to this inner awakening and
is doing all that it can to prevent him from remaining awakened.

Furthermore, just as human beings never perceive the instant that they
cross the threshold of the kingdom of nocturnal sleep, in the same way,
when a seeker is occupied with his spiritual struggles to remain present to
himself, he never notices the moment that he is again trapped and falls back
into the world of forgetfulness.

In this state of waking sleep, nothing of worth is possible. For a wise

aspirant, it is evident that any spiritual practice undertaken in his habitual
state of being leads nowhere. In addition, as long as he remains as he
ordinarily is, at the mercy of the urges of his profane self, he cannot be
sufficiently free in himself to be able to accomplish whatever it may be in
external life in a way that is disinterested and satisfying for him and for
others—which could, subsequently, bring him unsuspected pleasure and
even happiness.

In his customary state, it is impossible for the seeker to know himself,

because to know himself he would first have to distance himself from
himself in order to get in touch with the superior aspect of his nature. If he
succeeds in this, he can then begin to observe, with a new mind, free of
personal prejudices, his reactions in the face of the demands of external life,
as well as the host of penchants belonging to his inferior nature which were
hitherto hidden from his gaze—imperious penchants and desires, often
harmful to others, which ceaselessly drove him to use his physical and
psychic forces for activities or goals opposed to those for which those
forces were granted to him.
 The unceasing ardor with which he must accomplish his various
spiritual exercises, in order to succeed in one day establishing himself in
that state of awakening he has recognized within himself at certain
moments, is the ultimate purifying fire, which will reduce to ashes all his
undesirable tendencies—whether laziness, negativity, being critical,
indifference to the feelings and suffering of others, the lack of interest with
which he carries out the various daily tasks he thinks are unimportant, etc.
—to metamorphose them into subtle and creative energies. It is this
exacting sincerity that will guide him on the route of his evolution to
another plane of being whence he will be able to receive glimpses of a
Superior Knowledge concerning the laws of the Cosmos and even have a
deeper vision of the rules that govern true artistic creations.

Holding on to, seeking to hold on to this particular state of awakening

must be the basis of any authentic spiritual practice, whatever the path
followed; it is the foundation on which must be built all the aspirant’s
struggles to accede, when he is ready, to a superior life that completely
differs from what the rational and limited intellect of the average human
being can conceive.

Everything he subsequently undertakes will be accomplished with great

talent and finesse and will ceaselessly enlighten the lives of others; he will
thus leave the generations to come a heritage rich in luminous wisdom that
will show them the path of hope.

* * *

Hardly has day awoken to a new life than the law of decline begins
inevitably to strike and draw it towards its extinction, making it lose its
initial force, until it vanishes into the darkness of the night. Thus enveloped
in the shadows, it sleeps temporarily, awaiting its next birth. In the span of
life accorded to a human being, the death and the rebirth of the day
continually succeed one another, until the moment that he comes to the term
of his existence and finally, himself, loses the force that animated him
initially, to disappear and sleep in death’s embrace.

However, if he uses the gift of his life with discernment, every day that
is born and vanishes allows him to acquire a little more knowledge of
himself and the Universe, knowledge that germinates a subtle intelligence
in the enigmatic soil of his mind, an intelligence necessary to his future
growth and spiritual evolution.

As the inevitable end awaits all created things, sooner or later the
inexorable hour comes for him to give back to Great Nature what has only
been temporarily lent to him: life. All that he has acquired by way of
intelligence and knowledge in the course of his earthly existence will
mysteriously develop and grow in his being during the sleep of death, like a
seed that seems dormant in the soil when it is planted, but which, in reality,
is secretly germinating, to be reborn one day to a new life and become a
great tree that is much more useful than if it had remained in its initial state.

An aspirant who has lived his life nobly, having pursued his route with
courage, in quest of knowledge of himself and of the mystery of his
incarnation, will be able to quit this world with a tranquil mind, because he
will have responded to a call coming from another Universe within him and
accomplished, during his brief sojourn on this globe, all that was possible
for him in terms of his spiritual evolution.

If every beginning leads inevitably to an end, does the end not also
herald a new beginning?
 2 - Conscious Efforts and
Renunciation

There can be no efforts more difficult to carry out and maintain than
those belonging to an authentic spiritual path, especially at the beginning,
when the aspirant engages upon this mysterious adventure to such an
inhabitual, enigmatic, and subtle Universe.

These efforts are situated not only beyond what the average human
being is used to accomplishing in her everyday life, but, in addition, they
are of a nature that is completely foreign and incomprehensible to her.

These specific efforts that the seeker must succeed in consenting to

make with a very special attitude are, most of the time, so misunderstood by
beginners—and even, often by people who think they have many years of
practice behind them—because, at the beginning of her spiritual journey,
the aspirant is full of dreams about the world of the Sublime that she is
seeking to attain, without realizing at all what is really involved in such an
undertaking.

These particular and indispensable efforts, with which the seeker is not
yet familiar, consist in awakening first, with the help of certain exercises, so
as to be able to pull herself out of her ordinary state of being and it is only
when she succeeds in awakening and tearing away from her customary state
of being that she can succeed in keeping her gaze turned towards her own
interior to begin to recognize and be joined with another aspect of her
nature, which was hidden from her hitherto—a transparent and Celestial
Aspect that is free and independent of the contingencies of phenomenal
existence.

Because of its extreme subtlety, this superior aspect of her nature eludes
the aspirant’s comprehension at the beginning of her spiritual practice.
Ordinarily, this aspect of herself remains out of her reach, dissimulated by
the incessant movement of her (most often aimless) thoughts, the deafening
noise of her inner chatter (with the various emotional states it provokes in
her), by the habitual feeling that she has of herself (engendered by long
years of an automatic way of being, thinking, and living) as well as by all
the torments (conscious or unconscious) issuing from her eternally
changing desires—desires that, most of the time, she so intensely identifies
with that she cannot be sufficiently distant from herself to be able to realize
what is happening within her.

Just like a sleeper who, without knowing it, identifies totally with his
nocturnal dreams, human beings identify so much with what is around them
and are so attracted by the view and the scenery of the outside world—with
all its color variations, its agreeable scents, its attractive forms, and the
delectable taste of the variety of food it offers—that they end up, so to
speak, sleeping within themselves. They forget the impermanence of all this
and come, without being conscious of it, to accord credit only to what they
are used to seeing with their eyes, hearing with their ears, and touching with
their hands.

Only things that are visible or palpable have reality and worth for them;
consequently, they attribute no importance to the quest for the subtle aspect
of their nature—which is sufficient unto itself and does not depend on
external stimuli, because it is complete and perfect in itself. If this aspect of
their nature had a form, it would be like everything that has a beginning in a
physical envelope (and that includes even the celestial bodies of the
Cosmos), subject sooner or later to the law of disintegration.

When some Buddhist or Hindu works insist on the fact that the
phenomenal world is only “Maya” (illusion), that certainly does not mean
that Creation has no reality, but that it has only a relative reality. Just as one
cannot comprehend a particular aspect of life or any sort of object unless it
is in relation to something else or to its opposite, in the same way, one
cannot feel and apprehend the subtle unless one has the possibility of
comparing it with its opposite. Thus, it is only next to a caterpillar or an ant
that a dog appears as a more evolved creature and, in comparison with all
known cosmic creations—including the planets and stars—human beings
are probably the most complex creatures there are. Therefore, everything
that is manifest has only a relative and temporary reality and, in relation to
the subtle world of the Supreme Mind, phenomenal life presents only a
relative and fleeting reality.

Moreover, it could be said that the world of the Sublime is an ocean of

perpetual tranquility and felicity and that, by contrast, the phenomenal
world is an ocean of continual movement, agitation, and torment.

* * *

When an aspirant feels within herself this mysterious call to engage

upon a spiritual path—whatever it may be—if, from the start of this strange
adventure in the world of the invisible, she is really motivated and wishes
with all her being to know the answer to the enigma of her origin, she will
need to understand that, unlike the efforts she is used to making in daily
life, the efforts that are now required of her are of a type that is as yet
unknown to her: she will have to make intense and continual efforts to
bring her attention back to her own interior, with all her sincerity, all her
seriousness, and all the strength she can gather within her, every time she
feels carried away and again imprisoned in a particular state of absence in
which she will otherwise pass her entire existence.

Except when they find themselves abruptly confronted by serious

danger or the death of a loved one, human beings are constantly immersed
in a mental absence, lost within themselves, in a world that is made up only
of endless preoccupations, interminable inner chatter, diurnal dreams in
perpetual movement, distracting desires, nostalgic memories, and ambitions
of all sorts. This mental absence, which is so characteristic of the human
condition, is the principal cause of all the ills, the misunderstandings, the
frictions, and even the widespread religious confusions on this globe that
only cause human beings to lose their way more and take them away from
their celestial destiny.

Because of the unconscious habits deeply rooted within them—most of

which are obstacles on the spiritual path—and all the undesirable
tendencies they carry in their beings, it is almost impossible for them to
realize that, in their daily lives, they are often only cheating, advancing
incorrect information, and wasting a large part of their time in chatter, or
even gossip, that is without use or value and leads them nowhere.

Above all, it must not be forgotten that the penchants of human beings
grow as they age,[4] until they become unquestioned habits. Moreover, if
they are not circumspect enough, these habits can, little by little, become
permanent tendencies within them: a tendency to cheat or lie when it suits
them, a tendency to neglect things or do them badly—especially if it is not
they who will directly bear the consequences—a tendency to blindly obey
their unconscious impulses, coming from their inferior self, which incites
them to satisfy their personal needs, without taking into account the
problems or even the hardship their behavior may occasion others.

Perhaps someone succeeds in cheating in external life without ever

being worried and he can thus escape any blame. However, that is quite
impossible on a spiritual path, especially when it concerns the effort one
must make to surpass oneself so as to attain another world within oneself,
beyond time and space, an inner world that is so mysteriously sublime and
luminous.

It is important to understand that human beings forge themselves day by

day through the way they behave before the challenge of manifest existence
as well as through their manner of being and thinking throughout the time
accorded them to live. Thus, in the end, they are judged only by themselves,
as, because of the inexorable law of gravity that governs the whole
Universe, they cannot avoid gravitating to a state of consciousness and a
level of being corresponding to what they have made of themselves.

If, from the beginning, the seeker’s spiritual approach is not right and
she remains as she usually is, it will be impossible for her to cross a certain
threshold in her being, beyond which shines the Supreme Truth of her
Celestial Self. Because of this, she will remain a problematic being, of no
use to her Creator.

* * *

Since the birth of this planet, an incalculable number of different species

of prehistoric animals have made up the experiments of Great Nature that
did not attain their ends: these creatures have disappeared forever from the
surface of the Earth. Today, they are nothing more than shadows that
inhabited this globe in far distant times. Without knowing it, perhaps human
beings are also an ongoing experiment and, if this experiment also does not
attain its end, they may prove of no use to their Creator. Thus, humanity
will also be condemned to extinction one day.

A specific sort of evolution is required of human beings that cannot

happen by itself. It needs their participation to reach its conclusion. They
have to help their Creator through their consent and through conscious
efforts to arrive at such a transformation, which is incomprehensible to most
people. Paradoxically, their immortality depends only on themselves; it is in
their own hands. Ordinarily, they do not realize the extent to which they are
responsible for themselves and what they will become. They are, today, the
result of yesterday, of the day before yesterday, of last year, and so on. The
way in which they live the present moment will indisputably determine
what they will be tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and next year.

A beginner does not see that she is undertaking this spiritual journey
carrying herself with her, as she is ordinarily, nor that she is approaching
such crucial work in the same way and in the same state of mind that she
does anything else in her daily life. Moreover, she is unconsciously seeking
a quick result, which she thinks will allow her to remain in a state of
permanent felicity and through which her earthly life will become all sugar
and honey. At the beginning, she does not understand that a deep honesty is
demanded of her when it comes to acceding to such sacred territory—a
particular honesty that was hitherto entirely foreign to her. She does not
realize that she wants to be admitted into a world of Holy Light while
conserving her as yet untransmuted penchants, her habitual way of being,
and her erroneous beliefs, which will all be obstacles to her spiritual
growth.

If her efforts are insufficient and her desire to know herself is not ardent
enough, she will, in very little time, find herself with her back to the wall,
faced with herself and what she is in reality, with the whole agglomerate of
her unreasonable desires and her uncontrollable thoughts that ceaselessly go
around and around in her head and plague her, like those clouds of flies one
might see in the countryside, in the heat of summer, when the windows
have been left open. It is necessary to repeat that, if the aspirant does not
succeed in mastering her rebellious mind in order to remain sufficiently
vigilant and concentrated during her meditation—or during any other
spiritual exercise—and leaves the windows of her mind open, thoughts will
inevitably invade it and go round and round aimlessly, like flies, leaving her
with not a moment’s respite.

Through this work on herself, a sincere seeker will discover her

astonishing inner contradictions. Indeed, she will remark, to her surprise,
that when she decides to sit down to make the effort to meditate—or she
wants to accomplish a spiritual exercise in active life—in a short while, a
refusal arises within her to constrain her to stop. If she gives in to this
resistance that comes from her customary self and she allows herself to get
up, a few minutes later she will want to begin meditating again and, if she
should consent to sit back down to do so, the refusal will manifest itself
again within her and trouble her—often with even more vigor! In this way,
she will perhaps, for the first time in her life, have the chance to note the
incredible contradictions that inhabit her, not only during her spiritual
practice, but also in her external life, in her attitude towards others, and in
her habitual way of being and thinking. She will begin to see herself as she
really is with all her “I feel like, I don’t feel like, I want, I don’t want, I like,
I don’t like ...”

As, ordinarily, human beings do not succeed in being sufficiently distant

from themselves to see themselves as they are, they do not know
themselves; they live with a stranger within. They do not see the extent to
which they are changeable and inconstant. They pass their entire existence
with these unconscious contradictions within them, which sometimes incite
them to commit such great errors that not only is their own life ruined, but
the lives of others as well.

By observing herself in this way, with vigilance, the aspirant will come
to understand that she cannot hope to cross a certain threshold in her being,
in order to gain access to a Sacred Universe within herself, and to stay
there, while remaining what she usually is, with all her contradictions, her
lies, her volatile thoughts, and her various unfavorable tendencies, which
are obstacles to her spiritual aspirations; she will then realize that her
habitual way of being and thinking is not acceptable in a domain belonging
to the world of the Sublime.

As long as someone devotes herself to what can only be called “nice

Yoga,” she will keep a tranquil conscience and be at peace with herself.
However, if ever she begins to demonstrate seriousness and awakens to the
reality of what she is truly in herself, either she will become so perturbed
that she will find every imaginable pretext to stop this work on herself or,
on the contrary, she will be so shaken that she will feel extremely motivated
to surpass herself and take the path of her evolution towards another plane
of being.

As previously said, an entirely exceptional honesty towards herself is a

primordial condition on the spiritual Path if the seeker really wants to
succeed one day in going beyond the visible to rejoin the Source whence
she emerged. However, because of the continual growth of all her
unfavorable tendencies and habits, which have become such an integral part
of her being, and because of the difficulty in grasping what kind of efforts
are required of her, she may feel some disarray at the beginning of her
quest. Furthermore, if, through sustained concentration during her
meditation, she succeeds in detaching herself from her customary
individuality, with which she generally totally identifies, the state in which
she finds herself then may inspire unreasoned fear in her. Deprived of her
habitual supports, she will feel under threat of being sucked into and
disappearing forever in what will seem to her to be a strange and
incomprehensible void, but which, in reality, is an extremely clear and
translucent state of consciousness belonging to another dimension where
the eternal silence of the Cosmic Spirit reigns, a Universe so subtle and
silent, as yet unknown to her, and where her ordinary personality cannot be
admitted. Human beings are so accustomed to what they can see, hear, and
touch, through the intermediary of their sensory organs, that all that puts
their familiar world in danger and demands of them a radical change in the
way they see themselves and conceive of life fills them with fear.

The different kinds of efforts that spiritual practice demands—

especially at the beginning of this adventure in an invisible Universe where
an enigmatic void and silence reign that are unbearable for the customary
self of human beings—creates fear in an unwise beginner. The hard efforts
that must tirelessly be accomplished, not only when the aspirant is seated,
trying to subdue her rebellious mind in order to be able to meditate, but also
in everyday life, give her, at first, the feeling of being condemned to
disintegrate. She also feels condemned because deep within herself, she is
beginning to realize that she must renounce what is dearest to her: her
ordinary self. This “cherished little self,” which has become such an
integral part of her nature, is, in fact, made up of the sum of memories of all
the experiences and all the agreeable and disagreeable physical sensations
she has had since her birth into the tangible world, such a seductive world,
continually changing and in perpetual movement.

* * *

By its very nature, a spiritual path (if it gives precise directions and
provides the necessary knowledge to approach the quest for the Absolute
seriously) cannot, in any way, be easy to live in day-to-day life—as can be
seen with some authentic Buddhist paths, for example, in Burma and Japan.

A sincere seeker cannot avoid sensing intuitively that she must

accomplish a renunciation of a certain aspect of her nature if she wants to
succeed in keeping her gaze turned towards her own interior so as to
discover her Supreme Being—which has never ceased calling her to It with
its mysterious voice that is so enigmatic and usually so difficult to hear—
and to finally integrate herself with It. For the Divine does not shout; It
whispers. And one cannot hear Its whispering without having created
sufficient silence within oneself. Therefore, it proves necessary to quiet—at
least to a certain degree—the incessant din of the mind to be able to hear
within oneself the subtle whispering of the Divine and this demands of the
aspirant a particular renunciation of herself, of her individuality as she
ordinarily experiences it.

This renunciation, which is generally so misunderstood, has

metamorphosed into sorrowful customs among certain peoples of the Earth,
because, instead of being an inner sacrifice, it has become an external
sacrifice and a simple superstition based on a blind belief. These people
imagine they can buy God by immolating animals from time to time! They
do not realize that they are only cheating in order to wriggle out of their true
duty. They do not even want to see the horror of their acts or the pointless
suffering that they inflict upon these unhappy creatures during these bloody
sacrifices.[5]

Generally, seekers are frightened by the immensity of the price that they
must pay to obtain Grace. At the beginning of their journey into this
mysterious invisible country, they believe it is enough to want to know the
Sublime for such an out-of-the-ordinary revelation to be quickly accorded
to them. They do not realize at all that seeking to elevate themselves
towards such a transparent and subtle Celestial Universe while clinging to
the ordinary and heavy aspect of their nature is unrealistic. A piece of wood
needs to be consumed by the fire and transmuted into a much finer and
lighter element to be able to rise into the air. But human beings in their
ignorance do not want to consent to the disappearance of the customary
aspect of themselves in order to free space in their being so that it might be
occupied by the Infinite. So, without being conscious of it, they find every
possible pretext and every imaginable ruse to avoid making the efforts that
are necessary to be able to surpass themselves and rejoin the Source whence
they emerged. This lack of comprehension and all this confusion in their
minds prevents them from seeing that it is not that they cannot make these
indispensable efforts, but that in reality they do not want to make them.

The day the aspirant discovers this truth for herself and grasps it from
the depths of her being, something will become possible for her and a door
that has remained hitherto closed will begin to open, allowing a ray of light
to penetrate her and illuminate her being. From that moment, all her
interests in external life will undergo a change and her physical existence
will also take on a completely different meaning.

What is so difficult to understand for a beginner—even though she

hears it ceaselessly—is the imperative necessity to sustain her effort with
tenacity and patience,[6] until she succeeds in pulling away from herself and
distancing herself sufficiently from her habitual state of being and
everything that commonly preoccupies her, in order to be able to recognize,
even if only a little, the Light of her Divine Nature, which shines in the
depths of herself, such a subtle and transparent Light that, usually, remains
inaccessible to her inner vision, veiled by long years of identification with
her corporeal form and the visible world.

* * *

Sometimes, it is necessary to reach the depths of despair in order to

come to question oneself about the mystery of the Universe, the meaning of
physical life, and the reason for all the suffering one undergoes with such
distressing helplessness.

Among the billions and billions of galaxies, stars, and planets, which
ceaselessly travel through the Cosmos towards an unfathomable end, lost in
the immensity of incommensurable and limitless space where eternal
darkness reigns, is a little planet that strangely is both so marvelous and so
merciless, a lonely little planet, peopled by an incredible variety of
creatures who, from the moment their eyes open to the light of day, can do
nothing other than engage in a blind and relentless struggle against other
living beings in order to assure their survival and the continuation of their
species. However, in this world that is so uncertain and unpredictable,
eternally changing, something remains possible for a motivated seeker,
however infinitesimal she may seem in comparison to this vertiginous and
unsettling Universe; she carries within her the possibility of evolving,
through conscious and sustained efforts, towards another plane of being, in
order that a design of the Divine mind, incomprehensible to human beings
in their current state, might be accomplished.

When someone has felt within herself this indescribable call—which

awakens in her being the strange feeling of something ineffable that it
seems to her she knew in a distant and unfathomable past—and she realizes
what is really involved in this mysterious journey towards such a Sacred
Universe where an extraordinary and most enigmatic silence reigns, then,
perhaps, it becomes possible for her to undertake a serious spiritual
practice. This signifies a radical and irreversible change in her way of
thinking, of living, and of seeing the phenomenal world—a change that
alone can allow a subtle alchemy to begin to transmute her being so that a
very particular evolution can occur within her.
 3 - Nada Yoga

Nada Yoga[7] is a particular form of meditation that requires intense

concentration on a certain sound that the aspirant can perceive inside his
ears and head if he succeeds in creating sufficient silence within himself.
However, this form of meditation—like any other for that matter—is at risk
of losing its worth if it is practiced passively, because the seeker may
eventually become used to hearing this precious sound in his ears, but
without being truly present and concentrated on it. He needs to be
continually conscious that he is listening to it and not simply satisfy himself
with hearing it resonate within him.

The aspirant may be meditating in a superficial way, without realizing

it. This mysterious sound will be there within him while he is trying to
meditate, but he himself will, so to speak, be absent, dreaming without
noticing it or even being cradled in an agreeable state of very subtle torpor
that fools him and gives him the false impression of being in a state of
tranquil felicity.

Any meditation or spiritual exercise that the aspirant undertakes must be

approached with the maximum of sincerity, circumspection, and vigilance.
He must constantly remain on his guard, particularly at the beginning of his
spiritual journey, when he is setting out into an invisible territory that holds
risks of all sorts that one cannot suspect and that remains uncertain, even
for quite advanced seekers.

Above all, he needs to be extremely wary regarding everything his

profane self suggests to him when taking a path that was hitherto unknown
to him, because the Path is strewn with pitfalls. Before the aspirant realizes
what is happening to him, he may lose his way and find himself trapped by
his ordinary self in a sort of pseudo-paradise or false Nirvana; he may then
be tempted to spread all sorts of untruths around him that are satisfying to
his ego, without realizing that such an attitude is incompatible with the
Reality he must scrupulously strive to carry within him.

Just because one is more or less conscious that the sound is present does
not mean that one can allow oneself to believe that one is devoting oneself
to authentic meditation. If the seeker truly wants to succeed in crossing the
threshold of his little profane self in order to know the Celestial Self within
him, he needs to be intensely occupied by his concentration on this
enigmatic sound, with all of himself, without a moment’s respite. He must
remain on his guard and be wary of any inner commentary coming from his
ordinary self concerning his meditation or the inhabitual states he may have
experienced during or after it.

The advantage of meditating with this mysterious sound (which the

syllable “Aum” attempts to reflect and the Indian instrument, the tanpura,
tries to recreate through the incessant resonance of the fifth, the fourth, and
the octave—considered as sacred intervals in Ancient Greece and still
considered so today in India) is that it possesses a continuity that human
beings do not habitually have within them. Their being changes continually
according to the conditions they find themselves in. Whether it is raining or
too hot, whether they have eaten something that disagrees with them or they
have received good or bad news, everything acts upon them and, without
them realizing what is happening within them, makes them changeable and
inconstant.

As, generally, they are not conscious of themselves in the way they
really must be in order to remain joined with the Light of their Divine
Essence and be guided by It, they cannot see how woefully they use the
precious gift of their earthly existence. Effectively, they spend their lives in
a curious state of absence to themselves that does not allow them to become
properly aware of their behavior in the face of changing external conditions
—which are characteristic of an unpredictable existence—or the various
demands of earthly life or often disagreeable situations, belonging to the
phenomenal world, that they cannot avoid.

This strange state of absence, which most human beings are not at all
conscious of, but which determines their existence, causes them to be
tragically imprisoned within themselves, because this absence—which
cannot be called anything other than a foggy state—separates them both
from the world around them and the Light of their inner being. As old age
installs itself within them, this state of absence to themselves crystallizes
ever more in their being and will finally represent only a very meager return
when their journey on this globe is over. Thus, without knowing it, they will
have spent their lives in conscious or unconscious torments for the
impermanent things of this Earth that they found desirable, but could not
obtain.

* * *

The various spiritual exercises that are set out in this book are not easy
to perform; they are, however, indispensable to help the aspirant become
inwardly available and conscious of himself in a way that he cannot
commonly know. In addition to these exercises, meditation must always
make up a very important part of his spiritual practice which he must never
neglect.

When he takes the Nada—that mysterious sound that resembles the

continual noise of the ocean waves or the soft whisper of the wind, to which
are added a strange silvery timbre containing ever more fine and crystalline
harmonics[8]—as the principal support for his meditation, the seeker must
remain constantly attentive and follow the continuity this sound possesses.
However, he must never forget that he is only using it with a view to
succeeding one day in finding himself joined with another state of being
within himself, beyond time and space and not simply for the sake of
hearing it. Indeed, this sound is not an aim in itself; it constitutes only a
temporary means designed to sustain the aspirant’s concentration while he
is trying to meditate.

Most seekers never suspect the various kinds of difficulties they will,
with a few very rare exceptions, inevitably encounter within themselves at
the beginning of their path towards meeting with their inner being. And it is
precisely at the moments when the aspirant sits down to meditate that, in an
unexpected manner, the pressing problems of external life, as well as his
tendencies—which generally remain hidden from him—will all raise their
heads and pass before him in an interminable procession. They will plague
him insistently, each demanding its satisfaction, without ever leaving him in
peace in order that he might meditate. Hardly does a thought or an image
arise within him than, as though in the course of an insurrection, it is
toppled by another which reigns in its place during a certain time, until yet
another springs up in its turn and dethrones the one before, and so on—and
always at the seeker’s expense.

At the beginning, the aspirant does not realize that it is impossible for
him to resolve all his problems or to satisfy all his desires once and for all
and thus to obtain peace in order to meditate quietly. He needs to learn,
from the start, to leave his preoccupations firmly to one side during the
moments consecrated to his meditation or spiritual practice in active life.

He must understand that if it were not everyday worries or unsatisfied

desires that plagued him, it would be his health or annoying corporeal
sensations that would disturb him while he was trying to meditate. If he
yields, for example, to an itch on his arm and scratches to relieve it, his
forehead will then begin to bother him and incite him to scratch it and, after
his forehead, another part of his body will irritate him, whether it be his
ankles, his knees, his back, etc.; in this way he may spend all the time set
aside for his meditation in fidgeting. However, with every movement he
makes, he will prevent the flame of his Celestial Being from beginning to
shine within him.

When the seeker is seated, trying to meditate, he must learn to remain

totally still, whatever his physical state. If he succeeds in holding onto the
sensation[9] of his body for the whole duration of his meditation, that may
help him to become much calmer in order to be able to meditate for longer
and longer without being physically inconvenienced. Corporeal sensation
also constitutes an important support that allows him to be, so to speak,
gathered within himself, because the fact that he tries to conserve the global
sensation of his body creates a subtle movement towards himself and, when
he loses it, the opposite movement occurs, that is to say, towards the outside
of himself, which is accompanied by a continual loss of energy.

* * *
 At the beginning of his spiritual adventure, the aspirant believes himself
to be very motivated and full of enthusiasm. He imagines that approaching
his spiritual practice will pose him no problems. Perhaps he will be
extremely troubled and discouraged when he suddenly notices all these
difficulties within himself that plague him in such an unexpected way. If he
does not want to come to a point where he abandons his spiritual practice
and stops en route, he needs to become like a little child who has not yet
known defeat.

When a very little child wants to stand up to try to walk, during his first
attempts, he constantly falls over. However, he never becomes discouraged,
but keeps starting again! He keeps starting again until he succeeds in taking
his first step. Even though he continually falls over, he picks himself up,
without ever tiring of doing so, to try to take two steps, then three, and so
on. And, one day, his mother sees with surprise that not only is he
succeeding in walking, but now he is trying to run. She proudly reaches out
her hands to him saying, “Come, come my little one,” and, what wonder!
suddenly he runs towards her and falls into her arms, while she clasps him
tenderly to her. It is the same for the seeker when he succeeds, with much
courage and patience, in subduing his profane self and controlling his
attention in order to immerse himself in his Celestial Being.

Whatever the difficulties the aspirant encounters within himself or in

external life (and that will seek to disturb him at the very moment that he
sits down to meditate or begins a spiritual exercise in active life), he must
not, in any way, renounce his quest—which, without him perhaps realizing
it at the beginning, is a matter of life or death for him. Even if he must face
health problems, financial worries, family or other troubles, he must pursue
his route with untiring determination. He must understand that, as long as
he is alive in the phenomenal world, with all the uncertainties that this form
of existence entails, he will never spend a day without something suddenly
arising to tempt him to stop his spiritual work. If one desires Grace, there is
a high price to pay; it cannot be otherwise, if only so that one subsequently
appreciates it better. The seeker must continually keep in mind what is at
stake for him in this quest—which cannot in any way be compared to what
one might undertake in the temporal world, which is condemned to vanish
sooner or later.
 Sometimes, some people say they have read here or there that a sudden
and radical inner transformation can occur with no spiritual exercises or
meditation practice and that it is thus possible to instantly attain
enlightenment. What a dream! This is what is called wishful thinking or
taking one’s desires for reality. It is like someone claiming to be able to
bring about a radical and instant change in the stone of a date and, without
any development or growth, transform it suddenly into a tall palm covered
in fruits ready to be eaten. Without effort, nothing is possible. One can
accumulate an enormous quantity of book-based and intellectual
knowledge, but, without persistent spiritual practice, one cannot hope to
obtain anything of worth. A date stone that one keeps in one’s pocket cannot
germinate. First, the effort must be made to turn the soil, to plant it, then to
care regularly for the young tree if one wishes one day to benefit from its
fruit. In the same way, if the spiritual knowledge an aspirant acquires
intellectually is not, so to speak, “planted” in his being and put into practice
through assiduous work, nothing will result from it. Filling one’s pockets to
overflowing with date stones will achieve absolutely nothing other than to
be a pointless encumbrance; one will remain as poor and hungry as ever.

It is important to recall that there are no two people in this world who
are at the same level of being, intelligence, and consciousness. Thus, if
someone at a relatively elevated level of consciousness wants, for example,
to study the composition of symphonic music, he will need—on condition
of demonstrating perseverance—long years of hard work to achieve a
certain result. From this, it can be imagined how much more effort must be
made by someone of a mediocre level who wishes to learn the extremely
complicated laws of musical composition—without even speaking of
writing a single note.

It is the same for that which concerns the spiritual path. Every human
being, without exception, in the long run, only receives what corresponds to
his level of being, the extent of his aspiration, and the sum of the efforts he
has made during his sojourn on this planet.

It is indispensable to understand, from the depths of oneself, that the

more someone does, the more he will be capable of doing and that the less
he does, the less he will be able to do, because, paradoxically, the forces and
energies of human beings grow with the efforts they make and diminish and
atrophy in the absence of these efforts.

One cannot but be struck with wonder and profoundly troubled before
what will always seem a mystery for the human mind. When one takes the
initial trouble to plant a date stone, it eventually becomes a tall palm. Every
year, this tree will give an enormous quantity of dates, each one containing
a stone; these stones, once in the soil, will also become palms. These will,
in their turn, bear fruit year after year. The incalculable number of dates
these palms will produce will all contain a stone that will become a palm if
it is planted in the earth and this will continue indefinitely. Finally, one
stands awestruck before this vertiginous miracle: a single date stone holds
the Infinite within it!

The aspirant also carries this miracle in his being. If he remains

unshakable in the pursuit of his superior potentialities and he applies
himself to making the continuous efforts to go beyond himself, a day will
come when the Infinite will reveal itself to his inner vision and will fill him
with its radiant Light.

* * *

When the seeker uses the Nada for his meditation, he must, without
respite and with the greatest vigilance, follow the continuity that this sound
possesses so as to come to feel within himself as well a continuity of being
that, habitually, he cruelly lacks. For, just as the water that flows down a
mountain is powerless not to change its course when it hits obstacles on its
route, in the same way, the attention of human beings ceaselessly changes
direction according to the obstacles they encounter during their journey in
the phenomenal world, with its eternally changing conditions—without
them ever realizing what is happening to them.

During the whole time the aspirant is trying to meditate, he must rely on
the precious continuity of this sound, considering it as a temporary support,
until he succeeds in surpassing the barrier of his profane self, because it is
only beyond this barrier that the mists that surround him will dissipate to
reveal the dazzling Light of his Celestial Being.
 While the seeker is trying to concentrate on this sound inside his ears,
he needs to learn the extent to which he has to make efforts and the extent
to which he must, at the same time, leave free space in his being so as not to
intervene in the unfolding of a mysterious process that is not dependent on
him and that, in a way, will always be beyond him.

Furthermore, while he is meditating with the support of this sound and

tirelessly following its mysterious continuity, he will need to make a very
delicate descent into himself and surrender himself inwardly. He must
always take care that this self-surrender does not transform, little by little,
into a subtle torpor that he generally does not perceive. If he is not careful,
he will find himself trapped in this way by a sort of pseudo-happiness that
will take him away from his true goal, which is a very particular and
irreversible inner awakening—irreversible in the same way that the
mutation a date stone undergoes when it begins to germinate is irreversible.

It is nevertheless necessary for the aspirant to remember that there are

different degrees of enlightenment and spiritual awakening, according to the
levels of being, intelligence, and consciousness of the seeker. Now, as it can
be affirmed with near certainty that those who approach such serious work
—that demands from them an honesty of mind that was totally unknown to
them before—are far from having the level of being of a Buddha or Christ,
they must always be wary of the furtive suggestions of their profane selves,
whose tendencies are as yet untransmuted, and not allow themselves to
believe that they have attained the ultimate liberation simply because they
have arrived at a certain degree of inner awakening. For most men and
women on the Path, enlightenment—should they have already reached such
an extraordinary result—absolutely does not mean liberation. They must
pursue their spiritual practice with unshakable determination, until the final
moment of their fleeting existence on this planet.

So that the seeker better understands what is at stake for him in such a
serious undertaking and accepts his spiritual ordeals—which are sometimes
very difficult to bear—he must know that the name “Buddha” means the
Awakened and that this particular awakening can only occur in him
following unflagging work on himself. It is also necessary to recall that
Buddha, who was already an out-of-the-ordinary being at the beginning of
his last incarnation, was called Siddharta Gautama before attaining his final
enlightenment and not “Buddha” as he is generally called. He only became
a Buddha, that is to say an “Awakened One,” after that event which was the
crowning achievement of his long and terrible spiritual efforts.

When the aspirant concentrates on the Nada and attempts to follow the
continuity of this sound while accomplishing this delicate descent into
himself,[10] if he does not feel, little by little, the beginning of a subtle and
inhabitual awakening, he can be certain that, somewhere, his approach is
not right. However, he needs to take care not to look for any result while he
is meditating and hold only to the object of his concentration. He must
come to take pleasure only in the effort itself, in order to avoid intervening
in the way his Superior Being wishes to manifest itself to him when he is
sufficiently mature and ready to carry the responsibility of such an
important revelation.

In some seekers, this inner awakening necessitates very long and

difficult work; therefore, they must show great perseverance in their
practice. For others, the work may take less time. For some very rare men
and women, it may be done relatively quickly. Everything depends on the
level of their intelligence, their degree of evolution and the ardor of their
aspirations.

Through constant practice of meditation and various spiritual exercises

in active life, a very particular inner reversal—whose nature cannot be
understood by people who have not had this out-of-the-ordinary experience
—must begin to occur in the aspirant. That is to say that what hitherto
remained in a latent and passive state in his being—stifled by the incessant
flux of his mind and the unsatisfied desires and undesirable penchants of his
ordinary personality—must awaken and become intensely active and,
conversely, what was habitually active in him must be subdued and become
passive. Indeed, it is only by this inner reversal, inexplicable in the
language of this world, that his Celestial Monarch will be able to take its
Legitimate Throne again and illuminate the seeker’s mind and being.

When he succeeds in creating enough silence in himself—on condition

that the way he lives his daily life is compatible with his spiritual
aspirations—he will begin to feel inhabited by a strange inner presence that
is quite inhabitual: a mysterious presence belonging to an elusive World,
which will fill him with an intense feeling of reverential respect. He will
feel the Nada—the indescribable Song of the Universe—vibrate within him
in an inexplicable way in order to exalt and encourage him further in his
attempts to surpass himself.

Some rare great composers feel this mystical ecstasy within them during
their musical creations, without always understanding its origin. This
mystical ecstasy shows through their music and can help those listening to
it to have a foretaste of what they also carry in their being, without
ordinarily suspecting it. The aim of every great musical work is to infuse
the listeners with an inhabitual feeling—on condition that their level of
being is sufficiently elevated to make them at least a little receptive and
capable of appreciating the treasure they receive when they listen to such
music.

* * *

It must be emphasized once again that, as long as the seeker is trying to

concentrate on this precious Nada during his meditation, he must clearly
differentiate between the simple fact of contenting himself with hearing this
sound within him and that of being conscious, with the whole of himself,
that he is listening to it. In effect, in the first case, without realizing it, he
may be hearing it more or less passively and, thus, come little by little to
sleep within himself and dream, while, in the second case, he is actively
occupied, as seriously as he can be, on concentrating on this sound.

Moreover, if the aspirant is not wise and vigilant enough in his

meditation practice, he will, most of the time, eventually get used to hearing
this sound within him and forget why he wants to listen to it. The aim of this
concentration on the Nada is to help him descend ever more deeply within
himself, so as to succeed in one day discovering his Divine Nature and
immersing himself in It. It is for this reason that he must never meditate
with this sound without at the same time carrying within him a devotional
sentiment. Meditation must become a sort of prayer without words for the
seeker.
 The objective of all his spiritual practices, whatever they may be, is the
Awakening of the aspirant. What counts is the effort. His efforts must never
weaken. He must feel so concerned with his spiritual quest that he comes to
live for it alone. Every seeker whose good sense causes him to aspire to
liberate himself from this world must, without any more delay, accomplish
the necessary efforts to find the path to the ultimate refuge of his Princely
Self and remain there. The suffering coming from the unsatisfied desires of
his profane self will then irreversibly disappear.

As previously mentioned, when the aspirant is meditating with the

support of this mystical sound (whose inestimable value perhaps escapes
him at the beginning), he must ceaselessly follow its continuity, until he
succeeds in also experiencing within himself an intense continuity of being
accompanied by a profound feeling of himself, which are completely
inhabitual to him. When he reaches the culmination of his meditation, when
he is absorbed into the Source whence he emerged, there is no more
duration; every fraction of a second will be an eternity. He will then know
Eternity within himself forever.

So that no spiritual pride installs itself furtively within him, the seeker
must never forget that this Sacred Aspect of his nature does not belong to
him; the Sacred is not the property of anyone. “That” penetrates the whole
Cosmos and everything animate or inanimate.[11]
 4 - Spiritual Practice in Active Life

Even if an aspirant has succeeded, after long and tenacious struggles, in

crossing a certain threshold within herself and reaching extremely elevated
states of consciousness during her meditation practice—extraordinary
luminous states that have allowed her to recognize with certainty the
essential thing she has been seeking from the beginning of her spiritual
quest—this nevertheless proves insufficient. Much more is demanded of her
if she wishes one day to be able to respond to what her Supreme Being
expects of her. What she has attained at this stage constitutes only a first
step. She must now undertake a new mysterious voyage that is yet more
important and will allow her to go further in the accomplishment of her
spiritual evolution.

In addition to her meditation, she will henceforward need to perform all

sorts of spiritual exercises in her everyday life. Indeed, as long as what she
has recognized within her as a transparency of being and consciousness
belonging to a completely different dimension has not been subjected to the
test of manifest life (with all that entails by way of uncertainties, torments,
and diverse temptations—because, without her realizing it, everything that
takes her away from her Source, even fear, is temptation) and as long as the
seeker has not emerged victorious from this confrontation, she will remain
vulnerable to everything that may happen to her and at the mercy of the
external world which could rob her, in just a short time, of what she has
earned through so much labor.

It is necessary to insist upon the fact that, because of the as yet

untransmuted penchants, habits, and weaknesses of her ordinary self, the
seeker is likely to remain fragile and incapable of conserving what she has
acquired spiritually when she has to mix with people who are very different
from her or when she is confronted with difficulties, whether those be
family, professional, financial, or due to a permanent state of bad health.
Thus she will find herself in too great a state of emotional turmoil to have
sufficient clarity of mind and strength to regain the treasure that she has
been robbed of by external life.

In general, the aspirant does not want to accept the fact that it is
precisely the struggle itself, in the difficult conditions of earthly existence,
that, one day, will make her strong and unyielding before what she believes
to be her enemy: the phenomenal world.

It is only through this incessant confrontation that she will become

capable of creating the indispensable silence in her being that will allow her
to hear the mysterious voice of her Divine Master and have the strength to
consent to do what It orders her to accomplish.

Thus, if she wishes to become worthy one day of receiving the Grace of
her Celestial Master and be allowed to pass through the gate of its Sacred
Kingdom, she must strive to gather within herself the necessary will to
practice, in her daily life, the demanding spiritual exercises that are set out
in the following pages. She will be surprised by the difficulty she will
encounter within herself, first of all in remembering that she must do them,
then in succeeding in performing them.

These difficulties will open her eyes to what she still lacks in this
strange adventure in order to fulfill her destiny. She will realize that it is far
from enough to have reached out-of-the-ordinary states of consciousness at
certain privileged moments during her meditation in the tranquility of her
room. Other thresholds of an extreme importance are still to be crossed and
are only accessible through the test of the movement of existential life. She
will realize the necessity of coming to carry within her, in the very agitation
of external life, something of this elevated state that she reaches during her
meditation, as well as a Truth of Being, which is so fragile and so difficult
to preserve in the phenomenal world, where everything around her
contributes to lulling her to sleep at every moment and tries to rob her of
her being.

The seeker must succeed in keeping constantly within her the

consciousness of this Truth of Being, this Indescribable Transparency of
Being, that she feels during her meditation, for the whole duration of the
spiritual exercise she has to accomplish in active life, which will be
explained in detail below—provided that she has already succeeded in
recognizing within her, through direct experience, this very inhabitual state
of being.

If, in the very movement of external life, she succeeds in finding the
strength to preserve—even if only weakly at first—this state that is not
customary to her for the three times fifteen minutes that will be required of
her to perform the exercise set out below, she will be extremely surprised
and saddened to see herself, by comparison, as she ordinarily is, to see
concretely her unconscious way of living, her habits, and her passivity and
to remark everything that falls from her lips in an uncontrolled way as soon
as she speaks. She will perceive inaccuracies in her choice of words, her
continual use of set phrases—which, without her realizing it, do not
correspond to the reality of the moment—her conscious or unconscious lies,
her fear of others, as well as many other things whose existence she did not
previously suspect within herself.

The discovery of all these rather unflattering aspects that will thus be
revealed to her, as though reflected in a strange inner mirror, will allow her
to know herself as she usually is. This particular knowledge proves
indispensable in order for a subtle metamorphosis to begin to occur in her
being, so that she may come one day to be the invisible image of her Divine
Creator.

Before giving details of these spiritual exercises, it is necessary to recall

once more why the aspirant must find within herself the strength not to
capitulate before the difficulty she will encounter—especially at the
beginning—while putting them into practice.

Generally, seekers have an unconscious tendency to want to dissociate

their spiritual practice from their day-to-day lives and their behavior with
others. Apparently, they do not see that everything is connected and that
their actions in the external world inevitably entail repercussions for their
inner being. Indeed, every dishonorable thought or action towards others
can only make it’s author’s being heavy, coarse, and unworthy of the Grace
she hopes to attain.
 Often, aspirants believe, in all innocence, that they can act as they wish
in everyday life and have, despite this, the right to accede to a world where
Holy Truth reigns and to remain there in all tranquility!

One desires grace, but without realizing that one wishes, at the same
time, to remain as one ordinarily is. There is a wish not to sacrifice
anything. There is an inability to comprehend that what one habitually is is
only a lie. There is an expectation that all will be granted with no price to
pay.

Human beings do not realize that, at the term of their earthly journey,
they will be unable to avoid gravitating to a state that corresponds to what
they have done with themselves, according to their level of being. They can
insist, argue, refuse, shout until the end of time; it will be useless; they will
be absolutely unable to modify this perfect, mathematically precise law: the
attraction and gravitation[12] of each to the place proper to her according to
her weight. Three plus three can never be made to equal seven or six and a
half or even six and one hundredth.

This mathematical rule also governs the Cosmos. Indeed, every star,
every planet, and every satellite travelling across the immensity of our
galaxy is kept in its proper place according to its mass, density, and size.
Nothing can escape the justice of this inexorable mathematical law.

If one takes the Sun as the symbol of the Sacred and the Earth as
representing the human being and one supposes that the Earth wishes to
draw nearer its Divine Origin, whatever the strength of its desire, it can only
succeed in doing so at the price of a radical change in its density, mass, and
size. The same rule inevitably applies to incarnate men and women.

* * *

Here, now, is the description of the spiritual exercise mentioned above,

which the seeker must strive to perform in her everyday life.

After her morning meditation, she must visualize in advance, with all
the intensity of her being, the three times fifteen minutes of spiritual work
she will accomplish that day in the very movement of the existential world.
She needs to make three appointments with herself—their frequency and
duration being increased later—at different times of the day and, during
these fifteen minutes, she will have to try, with all of herself, to hear the
Nada in her ears as a support to remain conscious of herself in a way that is
not habitual to her, while continuing to do what is required of her in active
life, whether that is talking, writing, washing, eating, etc. It is indispensable
that she does not cheat by using an alarm to remind her of the moment to
perform this spiritual work, otherwise it will lose all meaning.

The first appointment with herself could, for example, take place from
ten o’clock in the morning to ten fifteen, the second from two fifteen in the
afternoon to two thirty, and the third from five in the afternoon to five
fifteen. The times of this spiritual work must change every day, so that the
seeker’s practice is put to the test of all the various situations possible. If
she has forgotten the first appointment with herself—which, at the
beginning, happens most of the time—and if she suddenly remembers it an
hour or two later, she must not, by any means, allow herself to perform the
exercise at that moment, because she must, in this way, learn that life does
not forgive and that every opportunity missed is lost forever. She must wait
for the time of the second appointment with herself in the afternoon. And, if
she forgets the second too, she will have to wait for the third.

If she remembers just five or ten minutes after the time that was fixed
for this spiritual exercise, she must then, without losing any time in self-
condemnation, make the most of the few minutes remaining and perform
the exercise immediately with all of herself, but without going over, even
by a minute, the time assigned at the beginning. She must stop this work at
the very instant she decided to stop it, so as to understand what is happening
within her at that moment. What will her inner reaction be when she
realizes that she no longer has the right to continue? Will she find herself
faced with the fact that her corporeal existence is not permanent and that,
just as she lost the opportunity to work on herself at the appointed time, she
will also, at the term of her earthly existence, have lost the opportunity to
accomplish something crucial to her evolution with the precious gift of her
life?
 At the beginning, the aspirant will be extremely surprised and
disconcerted to note, firstly, that she forgets these very important
appointments with herself most of the time. It is as though, somewhere
within her, she wanted to forget them, so as to escape the effort required of
her to renounce her customary dreams and remain intensely conscious of
herself. One sets out on this spiritual quest seeking felicity, but, when it
comes to paying the price, one flees.

Secondly, even if she remembers to start this work on herself at the

appointed time, she will experience great difficulty in maintaining this
intense state of awakening within her in the agitation of existential life; she
will perceive with sadness how fragile this particular consciousness of
herself is, how it is almost impossible to preserve in the movement of
everyday life, and that, in just a little time, it deteriorates and becomes
mixed with her habitual state of being, until the moment that she loses it
completely and becomes once again, so to speak, absent to herself.

Thirdly, if she is serious in her approach and does not waste her energy
on blaming herself, she will remark that, when she tries to perform this
exercise, this state of awakening to herself continually vacillates at the
beginning, that is to say that ceaselessly occurring within her is a recovery
of consciousness that lasts only a short while before she loses it again.
Through this work, she will have the possibility of apprehending what true
spiritual practice can be.

Furthermore, the seeker will realize that, even if she remembers to

perform this spiritual exercise at the appointed time and she succeeds, more
or less, in maintaining this inhabitual state of consciousness for fifteen
minutes, she does so half-heartedly. She may even encounter within herself
a total refusal to accomplish it and prefer to be what she is ordinarily, so as
to be completely free to dream without any constraint. Her customary state
of being demands no effort from her; it occurs all by itself!

It is at this moment that—perhaps for the first time in her life—she will
realize how she is attached to what she is habitually and she will understand
what she is required to renounce in order that a sufficiently great change
can occur within her to allow her to begin to be inhabited by an entirely
particular presence, a mysterious presence that will fulfill her and give her
the plenitude she has been trying to obtain from the moment she set out on
this strange adventure.

* * *

Every evening, after her meditation, the aspirant must evaluate her day
before going to sleep. She must ask herself with all her sincerity: “How was
the work I carried out on myself today? Were my efforts half-hearted?
Could I have done better? Am I serious enough in my quest to know
myself? Am I honest enough concerning myself and concerning my
aspirations to attain the goal of this difficult quest? Am I truly ready to pay
the necessary price for the perfection I aspire to?”

All these questions, and others, will—provided they are asked with a
great deal of seriousness and sincerity—mysteriously germinate in the deep
layers of the seeker’s mind during her nocturnal sleep and help her to live
better and to accomplish her next day’s spiritual practice better.

Furthermore, when she takes stock of her day before going to bed, she
will note, with much sorrow and regret, that she has let slip many
opportunities to welcome this awakening that is not habitual to her with the
respect it merits when, suddenly, and without her having sought it, this state
made its mysterious presence felt in her being, sometimes even with
insistence, and she did not give it her attention.

Moreover, she will be able to see that, although she wants to remember
to perform this spiritual work during the day, not only does she forget her
appointments with herself most of the time, but that—which is strange—
when the memory suddenly comes back to her, she does not want to
respond to it. Should she not then ask herself, “In that case, what I am
looking for? What do I truly want?”

There is always something that occupies her and that she believes is
more important to finish first before consenting to turn her gaze inward
towards what calls her at this momentous moment. However, as the
demands of external life will never end, the crucial question that arises for
her is how can she succeed in living in these two worlds at once?
 Through the importance she attaches to this spiritual work, the aspirant
must sooner or later, through a particular and vivid understanding of what is
at stake for her, succeed in finding within herself the means of giving
satisfaction and justice to both worlds at once. Thus, what she thinks, says,
and does in external life will be permeated with a subtle wisdom that will
only be able to arise within her when she succeeds in remaining joined with
this other aspect of her nature that is beyond time and space.

If she succeeds in being sufficiently motivated and appreciating the

value of this particular spiritual exercise, she will discover that the very fact
of occasionally checking the time so as not to forget the appointment she
has made with herself will act as a means to render her less and less absent
to herself. As the days pass, she will begin to feel and apprehend ever better
the tragic meaning for her spiritual evolution of this curious absence in
which she is engulfed every time she loses this inhabitual consciousness of
herself.

Furthermore, she will feel a sort of strange discomfort when she forgets
to accomplish this specific work, which will subsequently allow her not
only to realize with more discernment what she becomes again when she
sinks into her state of customary forgetfulness, but also to feel more keenly
the gravity of this absence as well as of all the errors she commits in life
that could be avoided if she were more conscious of herself.

When the seeker attempts to remain intensely conscious of herself in the

movement of external life, using the Nada that sings so mysteriously in her
ears as a support, she cannot fail, if she is wise enough, to make other
discoveries interesting to her quest. Thus, even if she has succeeded in
remembering the appointments she made with herself at the time fixed and
even if she has succeeded in maintaining this particular state of
consciousness within her during the whole quarter of an hour required, she
will be surprised to note that she is relieved when the moment comes to stop
making this effort; in a way, she is content to find her habitual state again in
order to allow her mind to run free and go back to dreaming as it will. Or, if
she was able, during the final minute of the exercise, to surpass the refusal
within herself, she may feel the urge to continue and, curiously, if she
responds to that and does not break off, in a short while, she will find
herself again troubled by her ordinary self which will want to constrain her
to stop. Or, it may be that when she stops making an effort, something
subtle that is beyond her continues mysteriously to inhabit her for a certain
time; however, it will not take long for her to lose this privileged state and
become once again what she usually is.

* * *

There is another extremely important spiritual exercise that the aspirant

must try to accomplish at other moments of the day, still using the precious
Nada as a support. This consists of trying, in the movement of external life,
to perceive the moment that she sinks into her customary condition of
absence after having made the necessary effort to find this particular state
of presence again and maintain it. She will perceive that, in the same way as
she never notices the precise moment she sinks into her nighttime sleep, she
cannot grasp the exact moment she loses this inhabitual consciousness of
herself.

It is a very curious mystery, which seems impossible to elucidate. What

a strange enigma the human mind must confront! Why, despite all the
efforts deployed by the seeker not to lose this unaccustomed state of
consciousness, does it always escape her in the end? She then becomes
absent to herself again and again begins to act in external life from that
singular state of sleep in which she is trapped once more.

If she shows sufficient tenacity in her spiritual practice, she will note—
among other discoveries that she will make for herself—that the very fact
of trying to unveil the mystery of the moment that this strange absence
overwhelms her and carries her away acts, curiously, as a way of
prolonging in her this inhabitual state of consciousness that she is trying,
with such difficulty, to preserve.

She may even come, to her great surprise, to make the discovery that it
is she who wishes to sink into her customary condition of being and to
allow herself to be seized by this enigmatic sleep—which has become such
a habit within her that she is singularly attached to it. In a way that is
ordinarily incomprehensible and inexplicable, it is as though she wanted
this “death” to take her and envelop her in its veil of sleep.
 It may even be that she succeeds in discovering, through all this specific
work, that there is, buried in the depths of her being, an unconscious wish
for self-destruction. Then the true meaning of her spiritual quest will appear
to her more clearly, which is not only to rejoin her Celestial Source one day,
but also, by immersing herself in It, to vanquish the true death—which has
nothing to do with physical death.

The aspirant must consider this spiritual work on one hand as the
essential means to help her find the path towards her Divine Nature and, on
the other hand, as a particular form of psychology and self-study,
indispensable to her evolution and emancipation. Indeed, any meditation
practice that is not accompanied by self-study is, from the beginning,
destined to fail.

* * *

In addition to her other spiritual exercises, the seeker must study the
variety of inner chatter[13] that takes place within her a great deal of the
time, with all that it contains by way of justifications for her behavior and
her actions (justifications that prevent her knowing herself and take her
possibilities for transformation away from her), such as automatic repetition
of certain words or phrases (most often self-destructive) or open or secret
animosity towards people who have done her wrong (a negative state that
colors her being and increases as she ages)—and this especially concerns
women whose femininity, sensitivity, and fragility of being have not been
respected by men.

Through self-study, the aspirant will also note that her breathing
becomes tight as soon as she is placed in situations that she dislikes—which
causes a significant drain on certain subtle energies that she has great need
of for her spiritual struggles. It is for this reason that she must observe her
breathing and use it as an additional means and a precious aid in this work
on herself, so that gradually she will be able to consolidate this state of
particular consciousness that is not habitual to her.

It is necessary for her to understand that any refusal, conscious or

unconscious, of the disagreeable conditions in which she may find herself at
times translates immediately into physical and emotional tension, as well as
tightening of her breathing which leaves her, most often, in a state of almost
permanent exhaling. The loss of energy she undergoes because of the
tightening of her breath clouds her mind and thus contributes to that
characteristic absence to herself.

The seeker needs first to learn to breathe correctly, opening her nostrils
from inside, and to breathe in as well as out—whether slowly or normally—
allowing the air to stroke the back of the throat pleasantly, without the
movement being jerky;[14] in other words, the breath in and the breath out
need to be effected just as gently as the gliding movements of the clouds,
with a short pause after each exhalation. In this form of breathing, the
tongue should not be touching the palate; it should be slightly down and
back, to favor the pleasant stroking of the air in the back of the throat.
During the breath in, the aspirant’s thorax should open like a fan, that is to
say, simultaneously upwards and downwards. She needs to use this manner
of breathing in and out as a complementary support for her spiritual practice
in active life—when the tasks she is devoting herself to allow it.

She must consecrate some time every day to this specific work and,
slowing the rhythm of her breathing a little, very attentively follow the
movement of her breath in and her breath out. Simultaneously, she will need
to concentrate on the Nada inside her ears as an additional aid so as to be
able to find again, every time she loses it—which will happen continually at
the beginning—this very particular state of consciousness that is not
habitual to her. She will be surprised to discover the extent to which, at
certain moments, her breath is tight—for example, when she is writing for a
long time or doing work that she does not like.

The seeker’s day must gradually come to be filled with her spiritual
work. Her whole existence must be devoted to a single goal: the quest for
her Celestial Identity—because she will need one day to come to accept the
loss of her ordinary identity, when the hour comes for her to shed her
corporeal envelope to find again the Source whence she emerged. However,
this ultimate acceptance, so difficult that, at the beginning of her quest, she
cannot even envisage it, must occur within her while she is still alive.

* * *
 The following spiritual exercise should be practiced only when walking
outdoors, in a very noisy place and not in a quiet place or the countryside;
in fact, the more intense the din the better it will be for this type of work on
oneself. The seeker must try, with all her strength, to hear the Nada inside
her ears, at the very heart of the tumult around her, and cling to the
continuity this sound possesses while she pursues her walk. At the same
time, she needs to keep in her mind the image of a lit candle that she is
holding in her left hand while trying to protect the flame with her right
hand. Just as she applies herself to protecting the flame of this candle from
the wind, she must struggle, with all of herself, to maintain within her this
inhabitual state of consciousness without losing it for a single instant.

By practicing in this way, she will come to understand better what it

means not to let oneself be distracted for a second. This will give her an
idea of what authentic spiritual practice can be. She will then realize for
herself the necessity of remaining inwardly unshakable—despite all that she
may encounter by way of problems in the phenomenal world—if she really
wishes to come to the end of this difficult spiritual journey without risking
being sidetracked by illusory things or losing her way.

If the seeker is tenacious enough in her spiritual practice, she will

remark that the duration of the periods when she is absent to herself will
begin to decrease and that conversely the recovery of consciousness within
her will become more frequent and ever more intense. Finally, in the
moments of absence to herself, she will feel as though she is in what one
might perhaps call a state a little like a “night-light” and, in this way, she
will no longer be able to sleep in herself as tranquilly as in the past. When
she is again more or less absent to herself, she will feel, in this “night-light-
like” state, a curious discomfort until the moment that, suddenly, this
mysterious coming back to herself recurs. This coming and going within her
is comparable to the coming and going of the ocean waves along the shore,
when their great and turbulent movements calm themselves and diminish
little by little, until they become almost immobile ripples.[15]

It is essential for the seeker to keep in mind that all spiritual practice
must be accomplished only for the love of the effort itself, without looking
for any results—in the same way as great composers or great painters
absorbed in their artistic creations are only driven by love of their work.

Outside the hours consecrated to meditation and the performance of

various concentration exercises, the aspirant must only be preoccupied by
the difficult task of knowing the untrue aspect of herself and the struggle
against her undesirable tendencies, which drive her, despite herself, to
deform and distort everything to her advantage. As long as there is not
sufficient transformation in the penchants and the untruthful states of the
seeker, all that she might do by way of meditation practice or yoga will not
advance her very much, because her spiritual work will always be mixed
with preconceived ideas and speculations on the subject of a domain that is
foreign to her and that belongs to a completely different dimension—a
domain that she is perhaps not even ready to approach at all. Even if, by
chance, she succeeds in experiencing brief moments of superior
consciousness during her meditation or her various spiritual exercises, she
may deceive herself and believe she has achieved the aim of her quest.
Without realizing it, she is then at risk of distorting Reality by putting
forward untruthful words about what is only a relative truth, thus causing
people who are credulous enough to accept everything they are told without
question to lose their way.

The human mind is generally only an agglomerate of dreams,

mechanical thoughts, and imaginings. Ordinarily, human beings are always
ready to leap upon any fantasy that titillates their mind and interposes itself
like a screen of thick fog, preventing the Light of their Superior
Consciousness from reaching their being. Thus, the Supreme Reality
remains forever veiled from their inner vision by the agitation of their as yet
untransmuted profane selves. It is only when the aspirant succeeds, through
assiduous work, in calming this agitation and reducing the clamors of her
inferior self to silence that she will be more inwardly available and she will
be able to begin to apprehend what her Celestial Being is subtly whispering
to her without words.

* * *

Written down on paper, the spiritual exercises that have just been
explained seem, at first, easy to perform. However, as soon as the seeker
tries to put them into practice, she will be surprised, not only by her
incapacity to accomplish them with the seriousness with which they must
be approached, but also by the difficulty she will continually experience at
the beginning in maintaining such efforts; thus she may be extremely
disconcerted and perturbed. Nevertheless, if she is really sincere, she will
quickly realize that these exercises in active life are of crucial importance to
her spiritual evolution. It is for this reason that she must not, in any way,
retreat before the difficulties she will, at the beginning, inevitably encounter
within herself in order to succeed in performing them. For it is only through
work of this type on herself that she will understand and feel with every
fiber of her being that it is completely impossible for her to be admitted into
a Holy Place while remaining a sleeper acting in life like a somnambulist,
without taking into consideration the consequences, for herself as well as
others, of her thoughts, her actions, and every word she utters.

It is indispensable for the aspirant to remember continually why she is

consecrating herself to meditation and performing all these spiritual
exercises, because, without this continual recall, over time, habit will install
itself in her without her knowing it and she will begin to forget the sacred
aspect of this quest. The initial impulse of the quest will gradually lose its
force and her approach will be reduced to a simple reflex action and will
then become passive. The real aim of this work that is so inhabitual will, in
a way, have been lost en route; thus, she is likely to be satisfied by meager
results. It is for this reason that the fact must be insisted upon once more
that all meditation practice and every spiritual exercise must always be
accompanied by a reverential attitude and an intense sentiment of
veneration for the Divine Light one hopes to join with and in Which one
hopes one day to immerse oneself.

Meditation and all these spiritual exercises have the aim of making the
seeker conscious of herself in a way that is entirely inhabitual to her. Every
time she succeeds in being present to herself—on condition that this
presence is sufficiently intense—she separates herself from her ordinary
state of being and, simultaneously, perhaps without realizing it at the
beginning, she begins to be put in contact with another aspect of her nature
that can only manifest itself to her inner vision when she succeeds in
distancing herself from herself and what she usually is for a sufficient
length of time and with the necessary intensity. It is then that a particular
state of consciousness will be able to awaken within her and the reality of
her True Nature can be revealed to her inner vision.

When, through assiduous and sincere work, she finds within herself her
Celestial Home and she has become strong enough to be worthy of dwelling
there, then, within this fortress that she will never again wish to leave, the
god of death will no longer be able to touch her, because there, where Light
reigns, the darkness cannot survive. Just as a great oak cannot become the
minuscule acorn it once was, nor will the enlightened aspirant be able to go
backwards and no longer know what she will have recognized as belonging
to an entirely different dimension, beyond time and space. The ignorance
within her will have irreversibly dissipated and the knowledge she will have
acquired of her Divine Nature will remain within her forever.
 5 - Mental Passivity and Laziness

Every aspirant who sets out on a spiritual path must remain ceaselessly
on his guard so as to face a particular danger that lies in wait for him at
every step and may cause him to fail practically from the beginning of his
adventure in an invisible country whose laws belong to a Universe that he
cannot hope to understand with the state of mind from which he undertakes
this journey.

He must keep watch and remain extremely vigilant if he does not want
to lose his way and if he sincerely desires to know himself and know the
Reality behind all visible phenomena, whether they concern living beings or
apparently inert objects.

He must, to begin with, accept the fact that there is in every man and
every woman—almost without exception—from their most tender infancy,
a tendency to a certain passivity of mind, a sort of particular inertia that
remains hidden from them because of its subtlety and that, deep down,
hardly differs from that of an animal. Nor can the seeker—despite a certain
degree of enthusiasm that he may feel at the beginning of his spiritual
journey—escape this problem.

If that were possible for them, human beings would only want to drift
along and tranquilly enjoy all the pleasures that the manifest world offers
them, without doing anything else. Thus, they would do nothing but remain
in a state of perpetual inertia which could only result in the destruction of
their being and the definitive arrest of their evolution.

It is precisely because one is constrained to accomplish certain

indispensable actions every day that one is tempted to believe that this sort
of particular passivity does not really exist within oneself and, thus, one is
fooled. As human beings are forced by Great Nature to make the effort to
procure food to eat every day—without which they could not remain alive
—and as they are obliged, by necessity, to wash every day, to dress before
going out, and to undertake many other activities day after day, all these
occupations become habitual to them and they no longer see the way in
which, most of the time, they lie to themselves.

Habit dissimulates the automatism of their way of being. Because of the

false image they fabricated of themselves throughout the time they were
growing up, they cannot see themselves as they really are nor perceive in a
right way what occurs in their beings in order to be able to correct
themselves.

In a way, and without them realizing it, it is a blessing for them that
their passage on this Earth should not be easy to assume and that the price
to pay for the gift of their lives should be so high. Hardly is one problem
concerning their subsistence resolved than another suddenly arises in its
place. And it is only through these countless, ever-changing difficulties—
that this form of existence imposes upon them relentlessly and without
mercy—that they have a chance of liberating themselves from their
passivity of mind so as to begin to turn their gaze towards the interior of
themselves in order to try to unveil the mystery of their Primordial Essence,
which is habitually hidden from them by their corporeal form.

A beginner on the path must understand that just because, driven by his
spiritual aspirations, he feels at a given moment a certain enthusiasm, that
does not mean that he will be free from confronting this fundamental
problem. Passivity lies in wait for him at every moment, just like a spider
eagerly awaiting its prey. Like anyone else, the aspirant also carries within
his being the seed of this tendency that interferes in all that he does in
external life. Without being conscious of it, most of the time he seeks only
ease—even when he sets himself to a spiritual practice.

This subtle passivity of mind is generally not evident to the seeker

because, when he finds himself in its grip, he identifies with it in a singular
way and is, so to speak, transformed into this state. If he is not guided by
someone who knows this problem well, it is very difficult for him to detach
himself from it enough to be able to see its effect on his being.
 He must learn to carry within him, throughout the whole day, a
particular state of questioning. It is a silent and vivid state of questioning,
not formulated in words, that, insofar as possible, will help him to create
within himself the beginning of an awakening—which is indispensable if he
wants to begin to know himself and know the state of passivity in which he
lives ordinarily.

This specific state of awakening that he experiences at certain moments,

after having made the necessary effort to evoke it within himself, is
extremely fragile and difficult to maintain. Hardly has the seeker felt its
presence than, the next instant, he loses it and once again becomes
imprisoned in his habitual condition of absence and passivity of mind.

Unless he is continually supported by someone who has, himself,

struggled with this problem and unless he is incited to make intense efforts,
especially at the beginning of his spiritual quest—the aspirant will, quite
simply, approach such important work while dreaming and with the same
mental heaviness, the same state of absence, and the same insouciance as
when he goes out for some groceries!

It proves crucial to his work that the seeker takes into consideration an
almost uncontrollable process that takes place in the existence of all human
beings: from their birth, they grow whilst learning all that their elders know
how to do (speak, walk, eat, and carry out all sorts of tasks in life). Without
them being conscious of it, this learning results only in mechanical
knowledge, which allows them to think, speak, and act with a view to
satisfying their various daily needs and to accomplish the various activities
imposed upon them by the external world.

A kind of automatism installs itself within children and progressively

induces a form of inertia within them. Thus, when they reach adulthood, all
they have learned until then (as well as all they will continue to learn as
they age—which, in general, diminishes with life’s decline) is transformed
into tendencies and habits that are deeply rooted within them, most often
unquestioned, and very difficult to eliminate subsequently if they discover
that these tendencies and habits constitute serious obstacles on their route
towards another Universe that they hope to join within their being.
 Human beings’ habitual way of living is practically just a sort of reflex.
They live, so to speak, only passively, except when unexpected events arise
in the course of their existence, such as tensions in their relationships with
others, all sorts of problems that are difficult to resolve, or natural disasters
that they must protect themselves against.

When someone sets himself to a spiritual quest, without realizing it, he

“brings himself” with him, with all his habits, his ordinary way of being,
and his mental passivity. He does not see that unconsciously he believes it
will suffice for him to do a few meditation sessions, to know how to
perform a certain number of asanas (Hatha Yoga poses), to mechanically
recite some mantras (sacred formulas), to accumulate as much intellectual
knowledge as possible about some form of Yoga, etc., to become, in a short
while, enlightened—illusions that one can, alas, so frequently see in the
West and even in India.

In general, human beings do not perceive their mental laziness. A great

effort is demanded of them to awaken initially, in order to be able to see the
various tendencies that have accumulated within them (which are often
harmful to themselves as well as to others), the cupidity with which they
consider life and what they expect of it, and, above all, the heavy and inert
state of mind (which has become an integral part of their personalities) with
which they wish to approach a spiritual practice, which belongs to such an
out-of-the-ordinary domain.

* * *

Unless someone succeeds in kindling in the aspirant a fervent desire to

extricate himself from the particular torpor in which he is immersed—
which, without him realizing it, constitutes a major obstacle on this route—
and unless someone takes him by the hand to guide him on this path that is
so inhabitual and unknown (a narrow, hazardous path that he cannot
discover by his own means), he will never come to see that, while pursuing
his various spiritual practices, he must continually engender burning
questions within himself in order to liberate certain energies in his being
that can stimulate his efforts and keep them alive.
 He must ask himself the kinds of questions that, ordinarily, cannot arise
within him without his participation—interrogations so profoundly
troubling that they drive him to be intensely inwardly awakened and
absorbed.

“What state will I be in after death, if, however, when speaking of a

state, I do not allow myself to refer to anything known in the phenomenal
world?”

“From what mysterious and unfathomable Source does my life draw its
origin?”

“What is this force, incomprehensible to my limited mind, that is

animating my life?”

“What is life really and what is it trying, so enigmatically, to accomplish

in this immense Universe?”

“Through what mystery do the different organs of my body, each of

which has its own life, work?

“Does space have a beginning and an end or is it truly entirely

limitless?”

“How can I explain the existence of these billions of galaxies and stars
that inhabit such an inconceivably gigantic Universe and are separated from
one another by vertiginous distances as well as that of the deep, eternal
darkness that surrounds them?”

“What is the true nature of this strange darkness which, in comparison

to the minuscule luminous dots that are the stars, occupies such a large part
of the Cosmos?”

“Just like the countless cells of my body, which are born and die at
every moment without knowing that they exist within me, are the celestial
stars also living cells in the incommensurable body of the Cosmic Being?
And, on a scale that is beyond me, are they too constantly being born and
dying without knowing that they exist within It?”
 “I am so infinitely small in this vast Universe that I seem to disappear in
the immensity of its space and be totally invisible; do I really exist or is it
only a dream?”

All these questions and many others must remain suspended in the
seeker’s mind and he must deny himself any commentary about them. They
must constantly accompany him so as to make him intensely awakened and
vigilant, for fear of gravity regaining strength within him and once more
pulling him down, into his habitual state of mental passivity.

An aspirant on the path must, like a great scientist, become a “Seeker”

in the true sense of the word if he wishes to accede to a very particular state
of being that will one day allow him to break down the walls of the prison
that his profane self has locked him in and to advance towards the vast
stretches of Light of his Celestial Being.

Moreover, he must succeed in creating within himself such an intensity

of sentiment and being (possessed by some great painters and composers)
that, not only will this become the means for him to attain the realization of
his spiritual aspirations, but it will also be able to make him strong and
creative enough to be able to light a living flame in other seekers too, as
long as they are sufficiently receptive.

* * *

If the aspirant is motivated enough to succeed in inwardly awakening,

even if only a little, and if he comes to be sufficiently alert to really see
what is happening around him, he will note—perhaps even with surprise—
that, in general, human beings cannot avoid their lives being made up of
repetitions. Every day, one needs to go out to accomplish certain tasks,
whether one is an intellectual, a government employee, or a farmer. A
mother cannot do otherwise than reproduce, day after day, the same actions
to raise her children. Yet, with repetition, automatism sets in. And
automatism leads to passivity of mind. Passivity of mind, especially when
one reaches old age, in the end engenders, little by little, a sort of inertia.
And all inertia inevitably leads to an almost vegetative state.
 Through these repetitions, human beings, without being conscious of it,
only, so to speak, perform rituals every day of their lives. Is it not a sort of
ritual that they accomplish every night when they retire to their bedrooms to
sleep? And, every morning, when they wake and get up to take up their
activities again, is that not also a kind of ritual? Perhaps without ever
having thought of it, is it not also a ritual that they execute daily when they
wash their bodies? And as, throughout their journeys on this Earth, they are
constrained to eat every day in order to maintain their physical life, do they
not also engage, without being conscious of it, in a ritual every time they
feed themselves? One could continue citing more examples in this way
almost indefinitely.

Like anyone else, the aspirant cannot avoid his earthly existence
unfolding in the repetition of certain actions, many of which are necessary
to maintain his planetary body, that he is obliged to undertake, not just
every day of the week, but throughout his whole life. What must his inner
attitude be in the face of these repetitions that, no matter how much he
wishes to, he cannot in any way elude?

He must constantly remember the danger that lies in wait for him and
try, with all his strength, to remain vigilant and conscious of himself in all
that he does externally, in order to avoid allowing himself to be trapped by
the mental laziness that these daily repetitions may engender within him.

Thus, he must use the tasks of external life themselves as so many

means of spiritual work and try to accomplish them with all his sincerity
and as consciously as possible. He must continually take care not to allow a
certain automatism to install itself in his being and not to begin to do what
is asked of him in a passive way and without being interested in it. This
attitude can only have unfavorable consequences for his meditation practice
and his spiritual exercises which will also, in the end, be approached
passively.

If he wants to elevate himself to a sufficient level of being to be able to

one day know the Sublime within himself, the seeker must succeed in no
longer dissociating his activities in external life from his spiritual practice.
 Unfortunately, it is necessary here to talk of an interior and an exterior
world, but only with the intention of expressing, very inadequately,
something of an extreme subtlety that belongs to the domain of the Sacred
and that, in fact, no vocabulary can explain. As long as a human being lives,
this mystery will always, in a way, be beyond his limited mind. Ultimately,
what one generally calls the external world and the internal world must one
day fuse and henceforth make just one world for the aspirant, because, in
the end, there cannot really be an outside world and an inside world; there is
only one single and Unique World: what, in India, is called “THAT.”

If a seeker is truly serious in his spiritual aspirations, he needs to come

to understand quickly that there must be no more distinction in his mind
between the moments when he withdraws into the tranquility of his room to
meditate and those when he carries out the various tasks that manifest life
demands of him. All that he does, outside the moments when he sits
immobile, trying to meditate, must be used as a supplementary means of
spiritual practice—without which, every time he stops his meditation, he
will once more sink, without being conscious of it, into his habitual state of
being and find himself again engulfed in this curious mental absence in
which he spends most of his day.

In this way, if he does not take care, all that he does in external life will
be undertaken from his customary passive state of mind and, when he wants
to set himself to meditating in the solitude of his room again, he will
encounter difficulties with himself that will make his meditation forced and
difficult, because, quite simply and without realizing it, he will always start
again “from the bottom.”

Moreover, without him being conscious of it, he will approach his

various spiritual exercises with the same sort of sentiment and the same
mental passivity with which he accomplishes any activity in everyday life.
He will not succeed in making the required efforts to get to know himself
and subdue his ordinary self. He will, quite simply, continue to dream and
act as he did in the past. The necessary change in his being and in his way
of considering his own existence—this indispensable change to help him
one day recognize the world of the Sublime that he carries within himself—
will not be able to occur.
 So as to avoid, as the days pass, the aspirant’s spiritual exercises being
transformed, through weakness on his part, into simple mechanical
repetitions—as occurs during his everyday occupations—every time he sits
down to meditate or he sets about performing a concentration exercise, he
must do it as though it were the first time, with the whole of himself and
with an intense devotional sentiment.

Furthermore, the reverential respect the seeker must ceaselessly carry

within himself while he is consecrating himself to his various spiritual
exercises must also infiltrate his external life. He needs always to feel an
immense compassion and great respect for all that possesses the breath of
life, for, despite appearances, there is no being, whether human or animal,
that does not suffer in the depths of its soul. Doubt is continually there,
buried in every living creature and, wherever that creature goes, it takes
with it the unconscious sentiment of insecurity that this form of existence,
so uncertain and precarious, ceaselessly kindles in its being.

Through weakness or through laziness, human beings are, most often,

inclined to put off until later or until the following day what should be done
in the present moment—except in emergency situations or if their personal
interests are at stake. The aspirant must take care not to fall into this trap
that is inherent to human nature. He needs to be very careful not to be
tempted to neglect his daily meditation practice or his various spiritual
exercises and, for one reason or another, to postpone them until a later time.
[16]

It is necessary to remember that if, because of this tendency to inertia,

the seeker allows himself to be overcome by laziness, even if only once,
and he comes to neglect his spiritual exercises or, above all, not to perform
them in the state of intense presence in which they must be executed, his
profane self will immediately take advantage of this opportunity and will
then make his life very difficult, as, subsequently, he will need to make a
more considerable effort to be able to take up his practice again or begin to
consecrate himself to it again in the way he should do.

Human beings do not realize the damage they do to their own psyches
as well as to the lives of others through their passivity of mind and the
negligence that flows from it. By putting off until later what should be done
in the very moment, not only do they destroy their own spiritual
possibilities, but they occasion others problems that they will have to
resolve later. Indeed, the unfavorable consequences of their manner of
being cannot but spread around them—like waves in a stretch of water
when one throws a stone into it—and cause troubles that, through a chain
reaction, reverberate ever further until they spread across the whole world.

Without being conscious of it, most aspirants approach their spiritual

practice with the passivity of mind that is habitual to them and they always
postpone until tomorrow the efforts on themselves that they should
accomplish today.

The seeker must constantly remain on his guard in order not to yield to
inertia. He must take care that the intensity of his meditation practice and
his concentration exercises in daily life does not deteriorate, that is to say,
without being conscious of it, that he does to come to perform his spiritual
work in a state of absence and mental passivity—which is so characteristic
of the way most of the men and the women of this world undertake the
tasks required of them every day.

He needs to cultivate such great sincerity and such great rigor in his
daily activities that he comes to transform all the tendency to inertia within
him into a highly vivid and active state of mind—such as that which
animates some great composers or painters who are ceaselessly creative and
intensely concentrated until their final breaths. All mental heaviness within
him must be transmuted into a profound devotional sentiment, so that he
will be supported in this difficult and perilous journey towards his Celestial
City.

* * *

As the aspirant cannot prevent the daily repetition of certain actions,

what must he do to avoid these repeated activities becoming automatisms
within him? If he is not vigilant, these continually repeated acts will lull
him to sleep. How can he subsequently succeed in transforming these very
repetitions into rituals to awaken?
 One does not realize that the manifest world is a sort of initiatory path.
There is an inner approach to be undertaken during the execution of these
inevitably repeated acts that will help the seeker to keep his spiritual
practice alive.

Because of the state of mental absence in which they ordinarily pass

their existence, human beings remain limited in their perception and know
only the tangible world, unaware of another Universe that inhabits them.
The exterior is the domain of sleep; lulled by the panorama of the visible,
they sleep within themselves. Now, in this state of sleep, their Divine
Essence cannot reveal itself. Because of the attraction exerted over them by
the enticing things around them, they forget the rest; they forget the
impermanence of everything that fascinates them so, as well as the precarity
of their own lives. Deep down within themselves, they know that
everything on Earth is perishable; however, through weakness and blinded
by their desires, they perpetually pursue the ephemeral. Thus, without being
conscious of the impermanence of their lives, they become ever more
enslaved and, because they are in thrall to their desires for earthly goods,
they do not see that they lack something. The illusion within them and
around them dulls them; it renders them slaves to their inferior selves and
mentally infirm.

Why do these tendencies persist so obstinately in human beings? The

force that has been conferred upon them by their blind repetition has so
profoundly fixed these tendencies in human beings that they have become
an integral part of them and, without the help of someone more evolved
than they are, they cannot pull themselves out of the grip of these
tendencies sufficiently to be capable of perceiving their servitude.

If someone does not wash every day, dirt will accumulate on his body
until, through lack of hygiene, he falls seriously ill and finally dies. It is the
same with the aspirant’s undesirable tendencies. If he does not struggle to
sublimate them through assiduous work on himself, they will grow until his
being is so diminished that they will finally stop his evolution. However,
when a grain of rice is cooked, it can no longer germinate; the same
phenomenon occurs with the seeker’s penchants when they are consumed
by the fire of ardent spiritual practice.
 The aspirant’s struggles to force himself to face and thus recognize his
form of mental passivity is a preliminary condition to him being able,
subsequently, to begin to confront his undesirable penchants. Indeed,
everyone has a kind of passivity of mind that is proper to him, according to
his conditioning, the education he has received, as well as the country he
has grown up in—without speaking of his native language, which exerts an
enormous influence over his psyche.

When human beings come into this world, not only do they bring with
them their own karma, but in addition, they are inevitably—as long as they
have not accomplished serious spiritual work on themselves that might
render them impervious to external conditions—subjected to the karma of
the country in which they are raised. Without being conscious of it, they
take into themselves, in addition to their own and from their earliest
infancy, the karma and the form of mental passivity proper to their country
and culture.

* * *

Apart from the moments when he is sitting still to meditate, if the

various spiritual exercises that the seeker performs in the tranquility of his
room are not sufficiently difficult to liberate him from his mental inertia and
oblige him to remain intensely present, it will be impossible for him to
apprehend what it means to be conscious of himself in an entirely inhabitual
way. It is only when he has really understood the objective of all this
concentration work that he will be able to undertake other exercises that are
just as important and that he must subsequently accomplish in his everyday
life.

It is necessary to recall that all these different concentration exercises,

which are so demanding, have no other aim than to help the aspirant to Be
and do not constitute an end in themselves. Indeed, they must not be
undertaken for the simple satisfaction of succeeding in doing them, but with
a view to a much more elevated purpose. The seeker needs to struggle with
himself to succeed in executing them, but only to be able to attain another
state of being within himself, to which it would be impossible for him to
accede otherwise.
 While he is consecrating himself to his various spiritual exercises, if he
succeeds in overcoming his mental passivity and establishing himself in a
particularly vivid state of consciousness—which is usually inaccessible to
him—he will feel inhabited by a strange and inhabitual presence, which
will be greater than him and will transport him to another plane, beyond
time and space, where reigns the absolute immobility of the Infinite Being.

The Nada (that mystical sound inside one’s ears) will then resonate
within him in such a spectacular way that not only will it give him the
impression of hearing the song of the Universe in his being, but it will also
bring him the indescribable feeling of perceiving the strange vibration of a
vast eternal silence.
 6 - Mental Discipline and Rigor

From the moment human beings wake in the morning, associative and
mechanical thoughts, inner chatter, and imaginings—often linked to the
anticipation of what they would or would not like to do that day or
concerning people that they perhaps do not wish to meet—will all begin
their futile work in their beings and, without them realizing what is
happening within them, these mental activities will occupy their minds
throughout the day and will jump from one thing to another without any
specific aim. All these thoughts, all this inner chatter, and all these
imaginings will drain their energies with no benefit to them. Finally, the
evening will come and, tired by the vicissitudes of the day gone by—having
nevertheless achieved nothing positive in terms of seeking to know
themselves or understanding the meaning of their existence on this Earth,
on which they find themselves through they know not what mystery—they
will finally go to sleep in order to recuperate their forces, but with the sole
aim of awaking the following day to play out the same scenario again. It is
in this way that their existence sadly unfolds until the twilight of their lives,
when they sink into their last and longest sleep, the sleep of death.

The moment that human beings open their eyes in the morning is
particularly important, because the very first thoughts that arise in their
minds will not only have a significant effect on their being and their
sentiments, but they will also determine, unless unexpected events occur in
external life, what the rest of the day will be for them. All the imaginings,
the inner chatter, and, above all, the kind of repetitive thoughts that go
through their minds at that moment—of which, most of the time, they are,
without being conscious of it, the passive playthings—will continue to color
their being and their sentiments during the day, for better or worse.

Through their incessant repetition, these thoughts will plow their furrow
more and more deeply in their beings, accentuating ever more their
principal tendencies. Thus, they will, in a way that humanity as a whole
cannot apprehend, be shaped throughout their peregrinations on this globe,
by the thoughts that inhabit them, making of them what they will be at the
inevitable moment when death suddenly arises before them and calls them
—with or without warning.

A serious seeker must realize the importance of this moment of

awakening and prepare herself in advance to make an effort to imprint a
determined direction on her mind from the moment she wakes; without this,
it will be her ordinary thoughts that will wake with her. Apart from these
associative thoughts that wander most often aimlessly, it will then be worry
about what external life holds in store for her that day by way of surprises
that will occupy her at her expense and without control on her part.

The spiritual exercise explained below may be useful even for an

advanced aspirant; it can be a precious support, both for dominating the
passive and futile flux of her mind as well as for developing within her a
strength of concentration and a certain will that are necessary to be able to
push away all the persistent thoughts that distance her from her goal as soon
as they arise within her—whether these are linked to a person, a pointless
fear, or a sexual fantasy. Control of her mind is indispensable—at least up
to a certain point—if she wants to arrive safe and sound at the end of her
perilous journey in this world, which is hostile to all spiritual aspiration and
to the inner evolution of human beings, that particular evolution that cannot
be accomplished without her participation and without tenacious and
conscious work on her part.

To begin with, the seeker needs to memorize the following six words:
akkah, dakkah, nakkah, vakkah, sakkah, rakkah.[17] Each of these words
must be recited silently, like a sort of mantra, while breathing normally. The
following six groups of two syllables also need to be remembered: ou-sou,
sou-you, you-kou, kou-mou, mou-tou, tou-bou. Each of these couples of
syllables must also be recited silently, but while breathing out (still
normally), with a very short pause after every exhalation.

Thus, while breathing in, one inwardly says the word akkah, then, while
breathing out, the first couple of syllables ou-sou, still silently, marking a
short pause after the breath out; on the next breath in, one says the word
dakkah and, breathing out, the syllables sou-you; on the next breath in, one
says the word nakkah and, breathing out, the syllables you-kou; then,
breathing in, one says the word vakkah and, breathing out, the syllables
kou-mou; then, breathing in, one says the word sakkah and, breathing out,
the syllables mou-tou; finally, breathing in, one says the word rakkah and,
breathing out, the syllables tou-bou.

When the seeker comes to the end of this cycle, she must, without
breaking off, continue with the second word and the second group of two
syllables and finish with the first word and the first couple of syllables. In
other words, she must begin this new cycle with the word dakkah,
associated with the syllables sou-you, and finish with the word akkah,
associated with the syllables ou-sou. She will need to begin the following
cycle with nakkah and you-kou, and end it with dakkah and sou-you, and so
on, until the moment the cycle begins again with the first word and the first
two syllables.

The tables below give the details of each cycle.

 One continues in this way, according to the same principle, shifting one
word at the beginning of each new series, until one finds oneself again at
the first word of the first series, then one begins all the cycles again. This
continual variation has the aim of avoiding the exercise transforming into a
mechanical repetition and the seeker allowing herself to sleep once more
within herself. Because of this systematic variation, she will be obliged to
remain intensely awakened and conscious of herself, so as to be able to
perform the exercise without error.

In this way, she will realize what an authentic spiritual practice

demands from her in order to arrive at this inner awakening. And it is here
that her superior aspirations will be put to the test, because either she will
find this exercise too difficult—or even boring—and will not want to
persevere in making these efforts or, on the contrary, if she is truly serious
in her quest, she will be so shaken by seeing the passivity of her mind and
the way she habitually wastes her life dreaming, that her concept of the
meaning of existence will be shattered for the rest of her sojourn on this
Earth. In this way, she will be able to understand what is truly at stake for
her in this dramatic struggle to liberate herself from gravity and evolve to
an entirely different plane of being, beyond the reach of the majority of
human beings peopling this planet.

Without these particular means, which oblige her to awaken and begin
to be conscious of herself in a way that is totally inhabitual to her, the
aspirant cannot hope to apprehend what true spiritual work must consist of.

At the beginning, she must not be surprised to encounter within her

strong resistance coming from her ordinary self, which has never been
subjected to such a constraint before. Even later, despite all she may think
she has already understood, refusal when facing the effort to be made to
remain concentrated will still continue to plague her. It will be up to her to
remain unshakable and tenacious in the face of these refusals within herself.

The exercise described above must be accomplished in the morning, as

soon as the aspirant wakes, before her ordinary thoughts have had time to
begin their futile dance in her mind. She must continue it for the fifteen to
twenty minutes she consecrates to her morning ablutions. At the same time,
she needs to try, with all her strength, to concentrate on the Nada inside her
ears and to follow its mysterious continuity attentively.

As with any other spiritual exercise, this one will have to be executed
not only while being intensely present and conscious of herself, but also
while being animated by a profound devotional sentiment.

* * *

So as to help a serious seeker to grasp more clearly why she must strive
to struggle with the aspect of herself that is lazy and absolutely does not
want to contribute to the accomplishment of her aspirations, it is necessary
to repeat once again that it is only through the difficulties she will
experience in these kinds of exercises, which demand sustained attention of
her, that she will be able to realize, for herself, what true meditation or
Yoga practice consists of. Indeed, the way Hatha Yoga[18] is taught today (it
should be called “hatha gymnastics” instead) cannot lead the aspirant to the
hoped-for goal.
 If the seeker does not struggle with an exercise that demands all her
attention, it is impossible for her to apprehend the intense concentration that
is demanded of her in authentic meditation practice, in order to try to detach
herself from what she ordinarily is and begin to awaken. It is only through
the acute concentration imposed upon her by the difficulty of these
exercises that she can glimpse what it means to be truly present and
conscious of herself.

To get a more accurate idea of what is really demanded of an aspirant in

such an important approach, it is necessary to remember the relentless
struggle that the Buddha had to conduct, lasting six years, before attaining
final enlightenment and liberation.

If, during the day, the seeker finds herself too scattered and incapable of
controlling her mind, she will then, without wasting time in becoming
uselessly irritated with herself, have to carry out the exercise explained
above, with all her seriousness, until she succeeds in re-establishing a
certain degree of inner silence.

To understand better her situation in a practice so vital to her evolution

and her liberation, the aspirant must realize, with all of herself, that it is
only when she is there, inwardly present and awakened, that she begins to
detach from her customary condition of being. And, in attaining this
particular state, she opens a door within herself, by which a Translucent and
Sanctified Consciousness, belonging to a completely different dimension,
can progressively reveal itself to her inner vision. In other words, it is only
to the extent that the seeker is there, present to herself and inwardly
available, that this Superior Consciousness is also there. When she is absent
to herself, engulfed in her ordinary thoughts, she is also absent to It,
because It demands the presence of someone who recognizes its Luminous
Existence.

What a strange mystery is Creation! Perhaps it is possible to come to

grasp better the importance of manifest life, ordinarily so enigmatic, if one
succeeds in apprehending that, as with everything that belongs to the
phenomenal world, this Divine Consciousness also needs the presence of a
sufficiently evolved and awakened being for its Mysterious Existence in the
Universe to be recognized.
 If there were not, on Earth, beings gifted with an intelligence developed
enough to recognize consciously the existence of a tree, although still there,
in the absence of that recognition, the tree could not, in an entirely
particular way, exist for itself, because there would be no one to testify to
its reality as a tree. It is the same for this other aspect of human beings’
nature. As long as human beings remain as they are, trapped in the
subjective beliefs of their ordinary selves—which seek only to be fulfilled
externally and not internally—this Primordial Consciousness will remain
hidden from their inner vision; it will be forced to wait until they awaken to
themselves so as to recognize its Holy Presence within them and in the
Universe.

It is necessary, for greater clarity, to emphasize again that, as long as

human beings remain absent to themselves, imprisoned in their illusory and
changeable desires, this Supreme Consciousness will also be absent and it is
only to the extent that they inwardly awaken that It will also begin to exist
for them. As long as they are there, inwardly present, It will also be there
within them and as long as they are absent to themselves, carried away by
the incessant flux of their customary thoughts, It will also be absent and
remain hidden from them.

* * *

If the seeker has a moment of freedom in the day, instead of doing

nothing and letting her thoughts wander aimlessly, she can use the six
words from the exercise mentioned above (akkah, dakkah, nakkah, vakkah,
sakkah, rakkah) in a different way, to accomplish another kind of spiritual
work, but without the six groups of two syllables that were associated with
them and without taking into account her breathing either.

In this case, these six words must be recited in a low, audible voice and
accompanied by particular gestures made with both hands. The exercise
must be practiced as a kind of rite, with an intense devotional sentiment and
always concentrating on the Nada inside one’s ears.

The aspirant must be sitting in Padmasana pose (the Lotus position, as it

is generally called), her eyes directed downwards (following the line of her
nose) and fixed on a point around one meter away from her. If she cannot
adopt this position easily, it is preferable for her to sit very straight on a
chair.

First, she needs to know the hand gestures, which she must execute very
slowly, feeling them with an extreme sensibility.

At the beginning, her hands are placed on her thighs, palms facing
downwards.

First phase: the seeker lightly lifts her right hand and puts it back down
gently on her thigh.

Second phase: she reproduces the same movement a second time.

Third phase: she lightly lifts her right hand, turning the palm upwards,
then gently rests the back of her hand on her thigh; simultaneously, she
brings her left hand to her chest and places her palm delicately on her solar
plexus.

Fourth phase: with the left hand remaining still, with the palm on her
chest, she lightly lifts her right hand, turning the palm downwards, then
places it gently back on her thigh.

Fifth and final phase: she brings her left hand slowly down towards her
leg and places her palm delicately on her thigh, while her right hand
remains still.

Then the whole exercise begins again. So, the whole cycle unfolds in
five phases.

Having learned the gestures, the aspirant must recite with each phase
one of the six words mentioned previously.

As there are six words and five gestures, there will be a continual
variation between the words and the gestures.

See the illustration and tables below.

 The three simplified tables that follow serve only to make clear the
variation between the gestures and the words.
 After the final cycle, the exercise must be begun again, without
interruption, from the start. So as to avoid this exercise (or any other)
transforming into automatism and losing its primary aim, which is to render
the aspirant extremely vigilant and conscious of herself, she needs to
reverse the hand gestures every other day; in other words, the left hand
must do what the right hand did the day before and vice-versa. On other
days, it will be the recitation of words that will need to be reversed, that is
to say that she will begin with the last word and finish with the first.

As with the morning exercise set out above, the continual discrepancies
in this exercise will necessarily put the seeker into a state of intense inner
presence, which alone can enable her to execute it without error. In this
way, she will, once again, have the possibility of understanding, with more
discernment, what it means to be awakened and conscious of oneself in a
way that one cannot usually know—unless one practices exercises of this
type.

These kinds of concentration exercises—which are deliberately

demanding—constitute a precious means of helping an aspirant awaken so
that she can begin to open up and become inwardly available, because the
slightest lapse in her attention will inevitably make her lose the thread of
the exercise and oblige her to stop; she will then lose this particular
awakening that she had within her the moment before, when she was
concentrated. Seeing, at that moment, what is taking place within her, she
has a chance to grasp more clearly what direction her meditation and other
spiritual practices must take.

Furthermore, it is only when the seeker finds within her the desire and
strength to accomplish such exercises while maintaining her effort for long
enough that she can feel not only the beginning of this awakening of
consciousness, but also a certain liberty of mind that it would not have been
possible for her to experience otherwise.

If she can kindle within herself the will not to retreat in the face of the
difficulties that she will be confronted with in order to execute these kinds
of exercises and if she does not yield before the refusal coming from her
ordinary self—which she will inevitably encounter within herself—she will
discover that it is only to the extent that she is capable of making sustained
efforts that she can experience an elevated sentiment, associated with a very
particular purity of mind, which are both of the highest importance for what
she will undertake in the future, in external life as well as in the pursuit of
her spiritual work. She will then know the path towards her emancipation in
an irreversible way, because once an aspirant has recognized something real
within her, it is impossible for her to no longer recognize it—just as one can
no longer not recognize the light once one has seen it.

In every serious spiritual practice, it is the seeker’s attention that is the

ultimate link between the Sublime and herself. What she consents—
consciously or not—to give her attention to throughout her earthly
existence, as well as the intensity with which this attention is used, plays a
preponderant role, not only in determining the direction her life will take,
but also in shaping her being into what it will become.

One cannot escape what one is because of the way one has used one’s
attention in the past, and the future depends only on the use that one makes
of one’s attention in the present moment.

In the domain of art too, it is the attention that constitutes the invisible
fire through which alone a composer of genius—such as Beethoven was—
might produce masterpieces. Instinctively, great composers ceaselessly
struggle throughout the whole of their lives against the external distractions
that take them away from themselves, so as to be able to reserve their
attention for their artistic creations. It is only through channeled and
sustained attention that it is possible to accomplish prodigious feats, both
within oneself and in manifest life and thus to bequeath to other men and
women a luminous heritage that will allow them to take up the baton and
continue what has been begun.
 7 - Attention and its Crucial Role in
the Life of the Aspirant

In every creature there exists a mystery that, ordinarily, cannot be

explained: Life! Since the most distant times, this prodigious phenomenon
has continued to constitute an unfathomable enigma for human beings.
Their minds remain forever perplexed before this vertiginous question—a
troubling question that has ceaselessly tormented them from the moment
the faculty of thought awakened within them. It is only because of this
strange faculty, with which they are mysteriously endowed, that they were
able to begin interrogating themselves about the Cosmos, about the origin
of life, and about the obscure secret of death.

The intense need to discover the answer to all these fundamental

interrogations concerning their relationship with such an inconceivably
gigantic Universe—in which they find themselves they know not how or by
what hazard—drives them to turn their gaze inwards, towards an invisible
and supernatural world whose existence they sense within themselves.

Every living creature—even a simple cell, however infinitesimal it may

be—is conscious of its own life and apprehensive of death. From the
moment that living beings—whether humans, animals, or corpuscles
invisible to our senses—acquired a fragile body, continually menaced by all
sorts of predators, by natural disasters, and by death, the necessity to protect
it has engendered within them the elusive faculty of attention—which
varies for every species, according to its degree of evolution, its
intelligence, and its level of being.

As, from their birth, living beings are obliged to struggle by all possible
means to assure their subsistence and protect themselves from all that puts
their physical existence in peril, they are, despite themselves, constrained to
exert their attention without respite so as not to lose what has become most
precious to them: their carnal envelope. For, as soon as a certain perception
of their existence awakens within them, their corporeal form transforms into
an indispensable instrument, by way of which alone they can feel
themselves and be conscious of their existence in this world. Paradoxically,
all these dangers that ceaselessly menace their survival not only encourage
them to appreciate their incarnate existence, but also play a preponderant
role in the development of their attention and in the growth of their
intelligence.

It is necessary—especially for a seeker already engaged on a spiritual

path—to understand and accept the fact that, contrary to what one
habitually thinks, without these external dangers that constantly menace
human beings’ lives, without the unexpected problems that they must
perpetually resolve, and without the physical and emotional suffering linked
to such an uncertain and precarious earthly existence, they would sleep
within themselves forever; there would be no way of persuading them to
make the effort to awaken in order to discover within themselves another
universe, beyond time and space, which alone can give meaning to their
life.

It is only with the development of attention that human beings’

intelligence grows. Their attention constitutes the third part of a trinity
within them; it is situated between the Superior and Celestial Aspect of their
nature, and the inferior and ordinary aspect of themselves.

* * *

Without the aspirant realizing it, his attention is the most precious
weapon and the most precious treasure he possesses. When he allows his
attention to be attracted and held by something, whatever it may be, without
him being conscious of it, he places that thing between the Sublime and
himself. And, as time passes, he finally becomes too identified with and
attached to what holds his attention—whether that be an object of pleasure
or a human being—which thus forms a screen between the Sacred and
himself, blinds him, and does not allow the Divine Light to reach and
illuminate his being.
 It proves vital for a seeker who has just set himself to meditation or
Yoga practice, to be on his guard from the beginning, in order to clearly see
that, whatever the object his attention gravitates towards, it is there that he
will indubitably find himself. Every thought that occupies his mind,
consciously or unconsciously, is only nurtured and maintained within him
by his attention. It is his attention that gives it life. If he does not consent to
give it his attention, this thought cannot continue to exist within him; it dies
through lack of nourishment.

Habitually, human beings do not realize to what extent nor in what way
their attention constitutes a sort of combustible substance, because it is only
through their attention that their thoughts and imaginings can find the force
to manifest themselves and subsist within them. Without them being
conscious of it, their attention acts as the indispensable combustible
material through which their minds can dream and wander where they like
—just like the oil in a lamp, which feeds and keeps alive the flame of the
wick.

Now, the Divine Aspect of human beings also has need of this
combustible substance, of their attention, to be able to reveal Itself in their
beings and manifest Itself within them.

It is the precious gem of their attention that human beings use to set in
motion their pointless inner chatter (which imprisons them within
themselves and renders their lives sterile), their physical or other desires
(which they want, most often, to satisfy without worrying about the
consequences), as well as their incessant dreams of permanent earthly
happiness (impossible to attain in this form of existence, which is so
changeable and full of unexpected events). Without attention, no thought,
no fantasy, no covetousness can take life within them.

If the aspirant succeeds in awakening, even if only a little, in order to be

sufficiently distant from himself, so that he can see what his attention is
wasted upon most of the time and what kinds of useless and worthless
thoughts or fantasies he is constantly nurturing and keeping alive within
him through the precious tool of his attention, he cannot but be horrified!
 Human beings do not realize that at every moment they are forging
themselves into what they are and what they will become, through the kinds
of thoughts they allow themselves to feed with the precious treasure of their
attention. They do not see the extent to which, unbeknownst to them, they
are ceaselessly manipulated by their minds.

Human beings are, in a way, comparable to land that one wants to make
fertile. To start with, the weeds must be eradicated, the soil turned so that it
can breathe, then fertilizer needs to be added; after that, the seeds have to be
planted and every young seedling cared for daily so that it can become a
tree bearing a great quantity of fruit that will, in the end, contribute to
feeding a multitude. The seeker must also consent to go through fairly
similar stages: first he must clear his mind, through conscious efforts, then
he must sow, in the field of his being, all that is positive and noble so that
he can be transformed into a fine instrument that is useful to his Creator and
to his fellows. And it is precisely here that his attention plays such an
important role in the transformation of himself and his tendencies.

In addition, a plant needs light to survive. It is also necessary to water it

regularly to assure its healthy growth. In the same way, the superior
aspirations of human beings need to be continually fed by the spiritual light
provided by reading sacred texts and spending time with men and women
who are more evolved than they are. These aspirations also need to be fed
every day by attention, so as to assure not only their survival, but also their
development within human beings, because if these superior aspirations are
not restimulated and maintained day after day, it will be human beings’
ordinary thoughts that will gain the upper hand and inhabit them to their
cost. Thus they will live only a banal and vegetative existence. Their
sojourn on this Earth will unfold only in the perpetual concern with
preserving their physical envelopes and gratifying their various needs.

The aspirant must understand that unless he makes conscious and

tenacious efforts to awaken to another world within him, a world that
belongs to another dimension, beyond time and space, he is programmed by
Great Nature to be nothing but an instrument of reproduction, animated by
an irrepressible sexual desire in order to serve its design, which is the
perpetuation of the species.
 The sort of attention that human beings generally possess is sufficient
for the protection and maintenance of their planetary bodies. However, it is
far from being what is necessary for a spiritual quest, which demands a
different sort of attention, entirely unknown ordinarily—such a subtle, alert,
and vivid attention that it alone can allow the seeker to approach true
meditation practice as well as true spiritual work in his daily life.

* * *

There is a particular link between attention and thoughts. As previously

mentioned, it is attention that, without them being conscious of it, works in
human beings like combustible material and, thus, animates and perpetuates
thoughts within them. And they vibrate within themselves according to the
sorts of thoughts that habitually unfold in their minds. Furthermore, they
cannot avoid drawing to them the particular conditions corresponding to the
way they think and vibrate within themselves.

In their ordinary, passive state of being, they do not see that it is their
minds that use them and not they who use their minds. It is here that lies the
cause of all the misunderstandings and the dissension in the world, because
the judgments people habitually make are solely based on what gives
satisfaction to their desires and their ambitions and depend on what they
believe to be good or bad. They are not capable of reflecting objectively nor
of creating sufficient silence within themselves to be able to respond to the
call of something more elevated in their being so that a change in their way
of thinking and being might occur within them.

An unenlightened person wishes for the world and all that surrounds
him to conform to what he wants and does not want, as well as what he
thinks is good or bad. Another does not agree with him, as he also desires
everything to correspond to what he does and does not like and the way he
thinks things should be. A third is outraged by what the other two want, for
he also has his own ideas about the way everything should work. And so
wars break out with all the destruction and suffering they bring in their
wake.

This phenomenon, alas, is even found in the various religions of the

world. Because they are cut off from their Divine Source, human beings do
not see that they are only thinking and acting through their ordinary aspect.
Everyone has his or her own opinions about the way things should be and
wants to impose his or her beliefs on others, by force if necessary.

It is important for someone who has just set out on this spiritual journey
in a country that is, as yet, unknown to him, to realize, with all of himself,
that every tenacious thought, every fantasy (sexual or otherwise) and all
inner chatter can only arise in his mind and continue to live within him
through the invisible combustible element of his attention, which he
consents to give to them. Without him usually being conscious of it, the
priceless gem of his attention is, most of the time, wasted in feeding all his
thoughts, all his fantasies, and all his inner chatter (most often harmful to
himself as well as others), thus allowing them to occupy the hearth of his
being—and always at his expense.

As long as human beings use their attention to nurture and keep alive all
that unfolds in their minds—without discrimination between what is useful
and constitutes an aid to their spiritual evolution and what proves
unfavorable and is a hindrance to that evolution—and as long as they
continue, blindly or through weakness, to allow these spectral entities to
take root in their beings, these entities will always remain masters of their
inner dwelling, taking the place that should be occupied within them by
their Supreme Self.

In discovering the dark aspect of his inferior nature, instead of being

discouraged or even demoralized, a motivated seeker can use all of his
negative thoughts, every feeling of ill-will, and every harmful tendency he
discerns in himself—on condition that he regards them without identifying
or being emotionally involved with them—as so many means to awaken
and turn towards another world within himself, where reigns the
unchanging silence of his Celestial Being—just as a bird uses the very
resistance of the air as a support to rise aloft.

In this way, a mysterious and invisible alchemy may begin to operate in

the aspirant, to transform the “crude metal” of his ordinary self into
sparkling “Gold.” All his unfavorable penchants and habits—which not
only have crystallized within him since he arrived on this Earth, but have
also plunged their roots into a time that is so mysteriously distant—must
inevitably go through the furnace of ardent work on himself to be
sublimated and transformed into traits of inner beauty, so that he becomes
worthy of bringing to others the Divine Light and spiritual knowledge he
will have acquired after so many years of hard and tenacious efforts.

It will then be possible for him to have a glimpse of the real meaning of
the word “love”—a word that springs so often from people’s mouths, but
whose true sense is so misunderstood, the sentiment itself being so rarely
felt. This word “love,” which turns up continually in everyday language, is,
alas, even used to express tastes or opinions on things that are entirely banal
and unimportant!

Ordinarily, one does not see that, generally, one speaks without being
conscious of oneself or of what one is saying. The speed with which most
people verbally express their thoughts—often without reflecting upon the
true meaning of their words or the effect they have on others—does not
allow them to see that they are only repeating formulae or phrases acquired
mechanically from childhood, which have become habits within them that
they practically never question.

People do not realize that the word “love”—which is commonly uttered

so easily, without concern for the use made of it or what one is associating
it with—also signifies attention and compassion, because compassion
cannot be dissociated from love.

Again, one cannot but remark the extent to which attention proves to be
a vital element in a seeker’s work and that it intervenes in all domains,
including that of love.

If human beings were sufficiently conscious of themselves—that is to

say conscious in a way that is not habitual to them—and masters of their
attention, they could no longer speak or act as they do ordinarily. Indeed,
what one generally calls “love” is, most often, only the expression of the
desire to gratify pressing physical needs or to satisfy one’s personal
ambitions and interests of the moment.

Moreover, human beings are, most of the time, so imprisoned within

themselves and so identified with their daily worries that they practically
never consider the problems or needs of others in a right way. Sometimes it
takes very little for what one calls love to transform into indifference, if not
hate.

As long as human beings remain cut off from their Divine Source and as
long as they do not know, through direct experience, the Divine within
themselves, they, most often, only unconsciously obey an instinct of
preservation that arises in their profane selves and drives them to live only
for themselves and for the various goods they want to obtain from the great
external world, in order to meet the pressing demands of their little inner
worlds.

As they ordinarily are, they are far too identified with what is happening
most of the time in their minds, with their daily problems, and with their
various physical needs to succeed in being sufficiently distant from
themselves in order to begin to know themselves. Because of their
conditioning, they spend their terrestrial existence with a sort of stranger
within them or, one could even say, with an invisible entity that has taken
possession of their beings, which inhabits them and manipulates them as it
will, according to its desires of the moment. Furthermore, as their habits—
whether they are good or bad—ceaselessly grow and become crystallized
within them as they age, all that they see or hear around them sets in motion
a mechanism that, without them being conscious of it, automatically sets off
within them associations of ideas and corresponding emotions that succeed
one another with great rapidity, just like in their nocturnal dreams. In all
these mental processes, it is their attention that, without them perceiving it,
is taken from them and used, most often, futilely.

Unless they have the chance to meet someone who helps them to
awaken, they will continue to remain at the mercy of this stranger within
them—with which they are so identified, to the point of taking it to be
themselves. This invisible aspect of their personalities keeps them in its grip
and uses them for the gratification of its various ambitions and its physical
appetites, which not only all constitute obstacles to their spiritual
fulfillment, but also ceaselessly cause problems for their fellows as well as
all other living creatures who have the misfortune to share this planet with
them.
 Without them ever being conscious of it, the thoughts of human beings
continually twist and turn and change direction endlessly within their
minds, like clouds in the sky, at the will of the wind. Furthermore, like
sleepers who—unless they are awoken—do not know that they sleep, they
also do not realize that they are hardly ever conscious of themselves in the
way they need to be in order to be able to realize what is happening within
them. Sometimes, it takes so little for the thing they like at a given moment
to lose all interest for them, especially if they no longer need it. On the
other hand, tomorrow, they may like the very thing they do not like today, if
they should discover that it can be useful to them after all. This also applies
to the love a man bears a woman and vice-versa. True, disinterested, and
compassionate love seems unknown to most of the human beings inhabiting
this Earth.

As and when the aspirant advances spiritually and his inner eyes open,
he will no longer consider the outside world in the same way. Moreover, he
will no longer be able to obey the blind impulses within him in the same
way. He will no longer want to act for the satisfaction of his ordinary
personal interests, but to respond to something elusive that belongs to
another Universe within him, incomprehensible to the people of this world.
He will then feel the imperative necessity to change his way of thinking,
being, and behaving in everyday life, in order to be ever more honorable
and true inside, to become worthy of being admitted into a Holy Place
within himself and dwelling there.

What one habitually calls “love” will take on a completely different

meaning for him. He will begin to find himself in what can only be called a
state of love that is beyond him—a compassionate and indescribable state
of love that will rise from the depths of his being and cannot fail to touch
the people who come into contact with him. As previously mentioned, one
cannot dissociate love from compassion and attention. Thus, the aspirant
will be ever more attentive and sensitive to the suffering and needs of
others, in an entirely particular way that one cannot ordinarily know. He
will feel their pain and their emotional distress with inhabitual compassion.

This state of love in which he will so mysteriously find himself, as the

result of his long years of spiritual practice, will always remain an enigma
for him. He will be unable to describe or understand how it manifests itself
within him. All he will know is that, suddenly, this state inhabits and
illuminates his being. He will always be seized by wonder before its
presence within him. This special love will radiate from him, independently
of his will, to bring a little light and consolation to others in the painful
moments of their lives—just as light emanates naturally from the sun.

* * *

It is always their attention that is involved in what is happening within

human beings as well as in all that they do in the external world—whether
for good or ill. It is only through their extremely developed attention that
great composers can create musical works so prodigious that they elevate
listeners to another plane of being, thus allowing them to experience
entirely inhabitual sentiments which it is impossible for them to feel
otherwise—sublime sentiments that belong to another elusive universe,
inhabited by “Devas” (gods) and their “Gandharvas” (celestial musicians).

Furthermore, this music, composed by geniuses with the help of their

attention, will, subsequently, year after year, for centuries even, put to work
the attention of all the members of symphony orchestras, without them
being conscious of what is happening within them. Thus, one can say that
through their attention and their great capacity for concentration,
composers become, despite themselves, spiritual masters of sorts for all the
performers in an orchestra, for the conductor, for the soloists, and even, to
some extent, for the listeners too.

Is it possible to imagine the many years of hard work on attention and

concentration necessary for a pianist to one day be able to rise to the
challenge presented by performing, from memory, before an extremely
critical audience, a concerto by Beethoven or Brahms, which contains
thousands of notes, changes in harmony, modulations, and complicated
rhythms? Is it possible to imagine what a great singer needs by way of long
tenacious practice of attention and concentration before being able to sing
by heart, before an extremely severe public, an opera by Puccini, such as
Madame Butterfly or Turandot? One might then, perhaps, understand how
much more concentration and, above all, division of attention is demanded
of a great composer to be able to write a symphonic work that requires such
a great number of musicians for its performance and which is like the
creation of a marvelous universe in miniature, where so many different
things unfold simultaneously.

Thus, it can be seen that, in every great artistic realization, it is always

attention that plays the preponderant role. Through attention, the positive
effect of these works continues, for centuries after the death of their author,
to spread across the world in order to help other people in their efforts to
master their attention.

Moreover, one can only be filled with wonder when one thinks that,
even a long time after the death of great geniuses (such as Beethoven,
Brahms, César Franck, or Gustav Mahler), their music continues to nurture
the sentiments and minds of an incalculable number of men and women,
exalting them and bringing a little light into their lives—a light that is not of
this world and that can, little by little, open to them an unhoped-for door to
another Universe, so subtle, so fine, and so sublime, that they carry deep
within their beings without ordinarily knowing it.

Furthermore, music of such genius constantly helps humanity in other

ways too; is it truly possible to imagine the number of people throughout
the world who have been nurtured and financially supported by the very
admirable musical creations of a great composer, such as Beethoven, since
he departed this planet? All the performers and their families, the
conductors, the soloists, without forgetting either all the people working in
the concert halls, the music printers, the impresarios, the instrument makers,
etc., all of whom have been able to provide for their needs through the
attention and labor of a single human being—or perhaps it would be more
correct to say of a giant: Beethoven! What immense work must have been
produced by this prodigious musician to succeed in leaving behind him
such a great quantity of works—despite the terrible handicap of deafness
which began quite early in his life and even though he lived only fifty-seven
years. Incidentally, to someone who exclaimed that he must live in a world
of enchantments where inspiration flowed in abundance and without effort,
he responded indignantly: “My music is only one percent inspiration, the
rest is ninety-nine percent perspiration!”
 The people of this world, plunged into the darkness of their spiritual
ignorance, cannot understand in what sense an enlightened being or a great
artist is sacrificed. He comes to this earth predestined to be sacrificed for
the whole of humanity, without them being conscious of it, in order to help
them, directly or indirectly, to apprehend the meaning of their existence on
this planet. A great musical genius is even sometimes condemned to spend
his whole life in poverty, with no other desire within him than to occupy
himself with his artistic creations, in order to accomplish an enigmatic
destiny that remains forever elusive for the majority of those who people
this Earth.

Instead of wasting the precious tool of his attention in worthless

thoughts and activities, as most men and women do, the musical genius,
driven by a mysterious instinct that is beyond the comprehension of the
masses, struggles ceaselessly with himself to concentrate all his forces and
all his attention with the sole aim of bringing forth his creations. Indeed, it
is only through the continual sacrifice of himself, of what he does and does
not want ordinarily, and of everything that might bring him the distracting
and fleeting pleasures that most people seek, that he succeeds in being
sufficiently concentrated and inwardly silent to hear the mysterious voice
that murmurs in his ears the inspirations that are so strangely sublime and
moving that they will subsequently transport his listeners into the domain of
the gods.

It is in this way that not only does the whole of humanity benefit from
the work and the sacrifice of a great genius, but the genius himself also
benefits from it, because throughout his whole life, he exerts his attention—
like an aspirant during his meditation practice or his spiritual exercises in
active life. It is right that the price to pay should be so high; it could not be
otherwise, with regard to the spectacular result for the world when the
attention of a human being is employed in such a positive direction.

When someone has used the gift of his life in a constructive way, not
only does he leave a beneficial trace on Earth after his departure, but he is
also an example for humanity, who can thus look at the future with hope,
instead of remaining tied to their self-destructive belief in a material
happiness that is impossible to make concrete.
 The wrong that one does also leaves its imprint upon the world. If, in
acting to satisfy a personal interest or in not doing his work properly,
someone causes suffering to another, that other may be so emotionally
disturbed that, without him meaning to, the state in which he finds himself
will trouble other people who come into contact with him and, in their turn,
they will also be unable to help disturbing those around them. In this way,
the problem caused at the beginning will continue to spread across the
world.

What a seeker does not generally realize is that, if everything he does is

executed carefully and with consideration for others, it will not only be
others who will benefit from that, but he will benefit too; in effect, this way
of acting will, firstly, exercise his attention and, secondly, make all his
qualities grow within him. In this way, it is he who will, in the long run,
benefit psychically from his efforts.

* * *

Every action inevitably brings about consequences, good or bad. It is

with their attention that wrong is done by human beings in the world and it
is also with their attention that good is accomplished. What is more, where
their attention is drawn, it is also there that their interest is. Thus, the
aspirant can appreciate the inestimable value of his attention and understand
the crucial role it plays in his life and in that of others—especially when he
uses it consciously in his various spiritual exercises.

Attention can be compared to the atmosphere that surrounds the Earth,

because of which alone one can see the daylight and the blue of the sky; as
one leaves the earth’s atmosphere, one encounters nothing but darkness. It
is the same for human beings; without their attention, by way of which
alone they can join with the Light of their Celestial Being, they lose
themselves ever more in a state of near dark isolation.

The incommensurable space of the Cosmos is made up only of eternal

darkness, studded here and there with the minuscule points of light which
are the stars, and of countless galaxies separated by inconceivably vast
distances. The musical genius is, to some extent, comparable to one of these
small points of light that tries to shine through the darkness in which
humanity is plunged. He is like a solitary beacon in an immense ocean of
men and women of all races who, like the waves of the sea, are ceaselessly
born and die, without apprehending the true meaning of their existence on
this planet. The composer struggles throughout his life to bring forth his
artistic creations and, thus, to assume the mysterious role for which he was
predestined. His music is like the light of a lamp that illuminates the souls
of humans and shows them the path towards a subtle Universe, usually
ineffable and indefinable, that they carry within their beings without being
conscious of it.

* * *

An aspirant may benefit from observing a particular technology that can

be found in the external world. If he grasps the principle, it could encourage
him to become more serious and more motivated in his meditation practice,
as well as in his spiritual exercises in active life, and help him to understand
better the importance of his attention and the crucial role it plays in what he
will become, for better or worse, according to whether he employs it in a
positive manner or wastes it uselessly in thoughts and activities that are
incompatible with his wish to know the Sublime within him and to accede
to another plane of being beyond time and space. When, in a boiler, the
flame transforms the water into steam and it is channeled and guided in a
determined direction, the strong concentration of this steam becomes a
formidable and powerful energy that can, then, set in motion enormous
engines working for the good of all. Thus, it is through the intense
concentration of steam that a locomotive can not only travel at high speed,
but also draw a large number of very heavy cars, filled with merchandise of
considerable weight.

It is the same for the seeker. When his attention has passed through the
fire of long and intense meditation practice and when he has finally
mastered and channeled it towards a definite aim, then—just like the strong
concentration of steam within a boiler becomes a force capable of moving a
colossal machine—he will be able to transmute his unfavorable tendencies
into positive and creative energies. Unsuspected forces will begin to
awaken within him, making him capable of executing all that will be
required of him very scrupulously and, even, with a perfection that is not
within reach of someone ordinary, because all the tasks he will undertake
will then be carried out by another aspect of his nature, which, hitherto,
remained in a latent state. He may even discover that he is capable of
realizations in various artistic domains with a talent that will astonish those
who know him.

Furthermore, the intensity of his sentiment will become a source of

inspiration for the people who come into contact with him, continually
encouraging them to become more motivated in their spiritual practice. A
particular force that will emanate from his being will constantly touch
aspirants who have come to seek from him the necessary help towards their
own emancipation, because he will always want to act in their interest when
they have need of him, despite the adverse circumstances he may find
himself in.

Thus, a serious seeker cannot avoid being profoundly troubled when,

through intense and sustained meditation practice, he comes to awaken a
little and distance himself from himself sufficiently to be able to note that,
without him ordinarily being conscious of it, it is always his attention that is
involved in all he thinks, says, and does, whether for good or ill, and it is
also his attention that plays a determining role in his evolution or his
involution. The way he uses the gift of his attention, as well as the goal he
uses it for, will indisputably make of him what he is and what he will
become.[19]

The moral integrity of human beings as well as their sincerity of spirit

cannot subsist within them without being fed by the tool of their attention,
just as evil cannot continue to exist within them either without being
nourished by that precious combustible substance that is their attention.

When attention is channeled in a determined direction, it becomes a

phenomenal force, a force that, in the same way that it animates great
painters or great composers in their artistic creations, proves indispensable
to the seeker in his attempts to know the mysterious Source whence he
emerged and in which he will be reabsorbed at the end of his temporary
passage on this planet.
 It is only through the continual renouncement of himself and what he
wants and does not want ordinarily (as the geniuses mentioned previously
do) that the aspirant can come to master his attention in order to be able to
hear within himself the voice of his Celestial Being which is trying to guide
him on the path of his hope—a path that is sown with traps of all sorts that
are difficult to recognize without the help of someone who has already gone
through this kind of trial.

* * *

In addition to all that has previously been said about attention, there
remains a fundamentally important point that a serious seeker must take
into consideration and try to understand. It is the crucial question of his
interest, because one cannot dissociate human beings’ attention from their
interest. When someone is very interested in something, whether that be any
sort of object or activity, his attention is inevitably used to feed that interest;
effectively, what kindles his interest cannot but capture his attention.

Thus, just like a great painter or a musical genius who is profoundly

passionate and absorbed in his artistic creations, the aspirant must also
come to be so intensely interested and occupied by his quest that it becomes
a question of life or death for him. His spiritual practice—meditation and
exercises undertaken in active life—must take first place in his existence.
Nothing else must count for him.

In addition, he must ceaselessly take care that his efforts and his interest
do not weaken and lose their initial force, which will inevitably happen if
he allows himself to be distracted by the futilities of the external world.
This primordial quest must always remain the essential reason for his
presence on this planet because, at the hour of his death—an inescapable
moment that awaits all living beings without exception—a burning question
will arise within him: “Does all I have thought and done, from the day I
was born into this world, until this fatal moment, justify the enigmatic gifts
of my mind, my attention, and my life?”
 8 - Introversion[20] and
Extroversion

In the phenomenal world, every visible movement inevitably

presupposes something unmoving in the background, which makes it
possible to recognize what is moving.

It is the same for the movement of human beings’ minds. All the
thoughts that are born and die within them at every moment, all the desires
that arise in their minds and change from one moment to the next, all the
images that continually parade through their minds, as well as all the
sentiments that color those minds—fear, hope, yearning, anger, sadness, etc.
—all of this inevitably presupposes the existence of something immutable
in the background of their psyches through which these movements can be
perceived.

Without them usually suspecting it, in all men and all women there is,
hidden in the background of their minds, a mysterious screen of translucent
and immutable consciousness, onto which are projected all the thoughts, all
the fantasies, and all the images that arise and fade away in their minds and
with which they are so untiringly occupied.

Because of all these thoughts that constantly pass through their minds
and that, without them being conscious of it, ceaselessly absorb their
attention, human beings do not have the respite and inner silence necessary
to be able to sense the existence of something else behind all this
exhausting din—something ordinarily elusive, which is in a state of
perpetual repose and is never affected by the movements of their minds or
by the agitation of the external world.

With a little distance, one can come to perceive the movements of the
mind, but, habitually, one does not recognize the means by which one might
succeed in doing so. Because of its extreme subtlety, one does not
understand this screen of immutable and enigmatic consciousness which
remains hidden in the background and onto which these thoughts and these
images are projected—as are also all the nocturnal dreams of human beings.

In the tangible world, it is always possible for someone to perceive what

surrounds her. The objects that her eyes can see, the sounds that her ears can
hear, as well as the agreeable or disagreeable sensations that her body can
feel are all evident to her but, because of her conditioning, the subtle always
eludes her perception and her comprehension.

Because of the fascination that the outside world—a world rich with
attractive colors, enticing shapes, and varied sounds—insidiously exerts
over human beings and because of the various physical sensations they
constantly feel and with which they are so identified, the subtle remains
inaccessible to them and hidden from their inner vision.

If the aspirant wants to succeed in discovering the Sublime that she

carries so mysteriously within her, she must change the direction of her
interest, that is to say that she must stop having her gaze turned only
towards the exterior to stimulate within herself the feeling of her existence.
It is necessary for a certain introversion to occur consciously within her,
accompanied by burning questions to do with the enigma of her presence on
this Earth and her relationship with such an immense, strange, and
unfathomable Universe. This introversion is indispensable if she wishes to
succeed one day in recognizing, through direct inner experience, something
else that she conceals within her being—an aspect of her nature that is not
subject to the laws of the phenomenal world and which is independent of
the visible and all the corporeal sensations through which she can habitually
feel herself and be conscious of her existence. This aspect of human nature,
usually so elusive, manifests itself in her as an ineffable trinity, where the
Knower, the Known, and the Knowledge form, all three, one single Holy
Entity.[21]

* * *

For every human being, birth in a carnal envelope unavoidably involves

the beginning of an uninterrupted struggle against gravity—a struggle that
begins from the moment the child takes her first breath of life. She
discovers the world of the senses by means of her physical body, which,
from the start, carries within it a taste for what is agreeable and, as she
grows up among her elders—who are already cut off from their Original
Source—eventually she will also lose that Immaculate Consciousness[22]
that she had within her at the moment of her birth. She begins, little by
little, to imitate her fellows and, like them, to accord credit and importance
only to what she can see or hear or to the various physical sensations (heat,
cold, pleasure, pain, attraction, aversion, etc.) that she feels. She thus
becomes trapped by the tangible and by the sensory impressions she
receives from it and then considers it to be of no interest to seek to know
herself and know another aspect of her double nature: that Silent and
Immutable Witness[23] that she carries in her being without knowing it and
which remains always neutral and uninvolved in what is happening within
her and in the external world.

It is this Transparent and Indescribable Witness who is the ultimate

reason for the existence of all incarnate men and women. It animates and
gives meaning to their lives, without them being conscious of its mysterious
presence within them—unless, through an unhoped-for chance, they have
encountered a spiritual path able to provide them with the necessary means
to discover this other aspect of their nature, which is beyond time and space
and is in no way subject to the laws of gravity or dependent on sensory
stimuli to feel its existence: It is sufficient unto Itself.

All serious meditation practice inevitably demands from the aspirant

rigorous and tenacious concentration—extremely intense and sustained
concentration, accompanied however by a tranquil understanding, in order
to avoid any violation of herself—until this maintained effort brings her the
revelation of her True Nature, whose ineffable truth would be immediately
distorted if she allowed herself to indulge in inner commentary about it.

Meditation practice involves a movement of coming back to oneself, a

particular introversion that is deep enough to allow the seeker to attain a
state of awakening and inner silence which alone can help her to recognize,
through direct experience, the Sublime she carries in her being, behind the
tumult of her ordinary thoughts.
 This movement of introversion or coming back to oneself, must be
practiced by the aspirant not only when she is meditating, sitting in the
tranquility of her room, but also during her daily activities, because
everything in manifest existence—which is precarious and full of
unexpected events and which ceaselessly occasions her countless problems
—draws her constantly away from herself. Now, this introversion that is
indispensable on a spiritual path and that must take place within her during
her meditation will not be possible if her day has unfolded in too great a
state of extroversion[24]—as is the case for most people.

All serious spiritual practice demands a movement of coming back to

oneself, a movement of profound and maintained introversion which is not
easy to accomplish, because it must be accompanied by an intense inner
awakening. Holding herself in this state of introversion and inner
awakening just as much in the midst of the agitation of external life as at
home proves incontestably difficult for the seeker—even more so if those
close to her are not interested in her quest and, moreover, do not respect her
spiritual needs. She may then feel isolated and lonely, trying with difficulty
not to lose what she has gained during her meditation when she is in contact
with people who are too extroverted and with whom she may be obliged to
spend some of her time or even to share her existence.

She must then be on her guard and take care not to give way to
conscious or unconscious revolt towards those around her or towards life
itself, forgetting that it is she and her own karma that have placed her in
these conditions. The situation in which she finds herself—and which she
can neither apprehend nor accept—is probably the one that, rightly, she
must experience to learn to surpass herself and to acquit herself of her
karmic debts. Therefore, she must realize that any attitude of revolt against
the inevitable will transform itself within her into a refusal of the external
world and this refusal will translate, little by little, into psychic and
emotional tensions that will make her meditation and other spiritual
practices even more difficult, if not impossible, to accomplish.

When someone is irritated with someone else or with the outside world,
she does not see that she is irritated with herself for becoming irritated with
others or with the outside world. In the same way, when she is impatient
with someone else, she does not notice that she is impatient with herself for
becoming impatient with others. Furthermore, when she does not accept the
reality of the present moment or the reality of external life, she does not
realize that, psychologically, she is not accepting the reality of what she is
within herself.

The primary condition of any spiritual path consists firstly in accepting,

accepting that existence cannot be other than it is, that is to say
impermanent, full of conflicts, uncertainties, etc. It is only after having
accepted the inevitable that it becomes possible to turn a more lucid gaze on
oneself in order to understand that one must first destroy the undesirable
tendencies that have installed themselves within one before beginning to
build. It is evident that one cannot build something beautiful and solid
within oneself on fragile and false foundations.

* * *

It is important for a serious aspirant to know that, if this movement of

introversion—which must be performed in the very turbulence of external
life—does not result in an inner opening and a particular state of
awakening, her approach is not right; she can even be certain that there
subsists in her much confusion and incomprehension relating to her
spiritual goal.

If this movement of introversion is not accomplished correctly, in other

words, if the seeker does not feel within herself an expansion of
consciousness and a subtle inner awakening while she is trying to remain
introverted in active life and in contact with others, then this poorly
executed movement of introversion may make her withdrawn and cut off
from the world—which would be a serious error, damaging to what she is
trying to attain spiritually. Thus, she risks becoming more and more
imprisoned within herself, in a state of permanent melancholy; a growing
feeling of yearning for something indefinable may, in this way, install itself
within her and crystallize into a state that will be very difficult for her to
extract herself from afterwards.

External life—full of problems, uncertainties, and worries—proves

indispensable to spur an aspirant to consecrate herself to a real spiritual
practice and to make her undergo certain experiences that are necessary to
her evolution. She must, therefore, understand and accept the fact that the
existential world has its place in her life, because it is only through her
contact with it that she can come to know, in a direct way, her various
undesirable tendencies, such as her laziness, her indifference to the needs of
others, etc. Manifest existence also teaches her to go beyond herself through
the continual efforts it demands of her in situations that never cease, all
throughout her earthly journey, to put to the test her honesty, her courage,
and her moral integrity.

In her day-to-day life, the seeker cannot, at certain times, avoid being in
contact with people who are too extroverted and it is precisely in these very
situations that the sincerity of her aspirations, the seriousness with which
she executes her spiritual work, and her tenacity will be tested. Is she
capable of remaining inwardly still and silent despite all the surrounding
agitation and din?

Like a celestial star—a minuscule point of light traveling towards an

unfathomable goal in a gigantic Cosmos—which tries to spread the
radiance of its scintillating light across the vertiginous distances of the
darkness that surrounds it, a serious seeker works ardently towards the
accomplishment of herself so as to be able to succeed one day in diffusing
the light of her knowledge to a humanity plunged into the obscurity of
ignorance of the true meaning of their existence and, most of the time,
occupied with dissension and self-destructive activities.

Through tenacious practice at the very heart of an environment

indifferent to any spiritual quest, it is possible for the aspirant to attain a
particular state within herself in which she can find the means to give
satisfaction to both worlds at once, the external world as well as the internal
world. It is only after multiple attempts and failures, but without ever
allowing herself to become discouraged, that she will be able to succeed in
cultivating within herself a very subtle division of attention that will allow
her, while engaging in her day-to-day occupations (speaking, eating,
washing, walking, writing, etc.) to remain intensely introverted and
connected to that Silent Celestial Witness that she carries within her, in the
background of her gaze, her hearing, and her mind.
 It is necessary to repeat that any attempt at introversion carried out in a
state of resentment or refusal—conscious or unconscious—of the
unpleasant and uncertain conditions of manifest existence will only
imprison the seeker in herself and plunge her into increasingly depressive
states.

A refusal of the inevitable gets one nowhere; this attitude only obscures
the aspirant’s vision, generating obstacles and preventing certain
experiences, as well as knowledge of herself, which are indispensable to her
spiritual growth, from enriching her being.

If she does not accept the fact that, by its very nature, life cannot be
other than what it is, pitiless, unpredictable, and often painful, offering by
way of compensation only a few rare and fleeting moments of sensory
pleasure, then, despite herself, she will be constantly pervaded by the
unconscious utopian desire for earthly perfection and physical security that
are not accessible in this form of existence.

Through tranquil comprehension, she must first accept the situation she
finds herself in; then, if, in accepting what is, she has the possibility of
changing the conditions in which destiny has placed her, she will then be
able to do so with a lucid mind, not obscured by negative states resulting
from a refusal of her present situation. Thus, through a more right attitude,
she will be able to avoid additional problems arising, which would not fail
to happen if she kept within her a permanent bitterness towards the
circumstances with which she is confronted.

So that the seeker might be helped in her efforts to remain introverted in

external life, she needs to learn to slow down, even if only a little, in all that
she does, whether that be speaking, eating, washing, etc.

It is necessary for her to remember continually that any uncontrolled

extroversion entails mechanical and thoughtless actions and words, which
inevitably bring regrettable consequences in their wake, for oneself as well
as for others—consequences that are often difficult, even impossible, to
remedy.
 The aspirant must watch herself vigilantly and know the extent to which
she can allow herself to be extroverted with other people. A slight slowing
when she speaks or a short silence between two sentences or even two
words—on condition that there is a sense to this silence—can sometimes
have an effect on people’s being that is likely to change the course of their
existence and open to them an unhoped-for door towards a new, richer, and
more fertile life.

Life is a formidable adventure, but everything depends on the respect

one bears it, the way one considers it, and the use one makes of it. To be
able really to grasp the meaning of this adventure that is offered to her, the
seeker must first apprehend, even if only a little, the mystery hidden behind
this form of existence.

Unfortunately, aspirants possessing sufficient maturity to realize what is

at stake for them in this enigmatic quest and who are ready to involve
themselves fully in a true spiritual practice are rare. If someone is not ready
for the truth she receives, if her levels of being and intelligence are not
sufficiently elevated, one can transmit the highest wisdom to her, but it will
be of no use to her. One will have sown the seed on arid ground; it will not
germinate.

A seeker who feels respect for her life and for that of others must,
without wasting her time on futile and distracting activities, put into
practice even the few indications concerning real spiritual work that she
may have the chance to obtain. She must remain continually on her guard
so as to protect from the inexorable law of gravity all that she has been able
to acquire and comprehend. This implacable law, which reigns everywhere
that life has taken on a material form, seeks—through all sorts of
difficulties that it occasions her or through the health problems it may inflict
upon her throughout the whole of her earthly sojourn—to halt the aspirant
in her journey towards the Celestial City of her True Self, that Immutable
and Silent Witness she carries in her being.

The seeker must come, through profound and vivid comprehension, to

find within herself the strength to accept what is and she must try, when she
cannot avoid the company of very extroverted people or she finds herself
placed in particularly difficult conditions of existence that are likely to
ceaselessly suck her outside of herself, to maintain this special introversion,
as well as a balance between the inner and outer worlds.

She needs to learn to be sufficiently vigilant and conscious of herself in

day-to-day life to be able to protect herself and guard her spiritual practice
against adverse circumstances. She must not allow herself to be trapped and
drawn into banal and futile discussions that will subsequently only bring her
negative states and bring about the loss of subtle energies that she greatly
needs in this mysterious and dramatic battle to “be.”

Paradoxically, if the seeker wishes to protect and preserve her spiritual

practice in active life, she must take care to protect others from herself, for
she will perceive that, most of the time, her way of being and behaving
towards her fellows does not really conform to her superior aspirations. It is
only to the extent that she strives to protect others from her ordinary
desires, her impulsive actions (which cause problems for others), or her
thoughtless words (which, most often, do not correspond to the reality of
the moment) that, at the same time, she will protect herself.

Generally, one does not see that it is from oneself that one has most
need of protection. The true enemy and the true dangers are within oneself
and not outside. In their blindness, human beings do not see that it is
themselves they should be wary of, because it is they who constitute a
threat to themselves. It is often possible to find a way of avoiding an
external enemy, but, if one is not particularly circumspect and vigilant, one
cannot escape the enemy within.

* * *

The way the aspirant spends her day cannot fail to have a favorable or
unfavorable effect on her meditation and other spiritual practices. If she
accomplishes in a right way this movement of introversion that she has to
continually try to carry out in daily life—that is to say, if this coming back
to herself is accompanied by a state of intense inner awakening—she may
then simultaneously have the strange feeling that she is being seen or
watched by a mysterious invisible spectator within herself, a sort of
Immutable Uninvolved Witness, that watches her silently and holds itself
slightly behind and above her head. She will also have the sensation of
being inhabited by an indescribable presence which is the precursor to
liberation from the slavery of what she is ordinarily—a very particular
presence that is both transformative and therapeutic.

Through this inhabitual inner presence, that she must, by all means, try
to cultivate within her, the seeker will, little by little, have the feeling that
this Invisible Silent Spectator that she carries in her being is constantly
watching her and following her everywhere she goes and witnessing all that
she does and says; she cannot hide anything from It.

From the beginning of her spiritual adventure, she must, in every way,
try to create within herself the sensation that someone is ceaselessly
watching her, seeing all that she does and hearing all that she says in her
active life. In this way, she will be protected from herself and the regrettable
actions she may commit and that might, subsequently, become a hindrance
to her on this difficult spiritual journey.

Furthermore, she will discover that this watching over herself, which
she tries to maintain within her during her daily activities, can not only
protect her from herself, but also help her to become more vigilant and
circumspect regarding the impressions of outside that she allows to enter
into her by the windows of her eyes and her ears. Without her realizing it,
the impressions that she receives passively from the external world have a
powerful and tenacious effect on her being; they play a determining role in
the formation and the conditioning of her psyche, for better or worse.

This watching over herself will prove to constitute an additional aid to

protect a serious seeker so that she does not let herself be trapped by any
desire for what she sees or hears (whether that be a person or an object) that
could weaken her interest or even divert it from what should be her
primordial preoccupation: her spiritual quest.

Seeing the truth about oneself and what one is ordinarily is difficult to
bear for someone who is not ready to undertake such a practice because it
demands an entirely out-of-the-ordinary sincerity. The spiritual path—if it is
authentic—does not allow the aspirant to cheat. The truth proves merciless;
it is not easy to assume. However, in the end, what is one seeking? Ease? To
quiet one’s conscience? To continue to dream a false life, even while
seeking the Real?

* * *

As previously mentioned, this inner awakening and this silence of the

mind that the seeker must cultivate within herself have a therapeutic action
on her psyche and her being. It is this screen of silent and immutable
consciousness behind the movement of her mind that is important and not
what her mind contains by way of transitory thoughts or chimerical images.
Dreams! Ordinarily, everything is but a dream! In their lifetimes, human
beings ceaselessly dream what they believe themselves to be. After their
deaths, they continue to dream what they believe they are; their corporeal
forms have ceased to exist, but the dream lives on. Their minds endlessly
dream and cause to arise in the space of their consciousness the people and
objects of their dreams. Moreover, from the moment their eyes open onto
external life to the moment they close in the sleep of death, without being
conscious of it, they do nothing but fill the passage of time with what they
dream they are feeling and what they imagine is happening to them.

It could be said that, in a very particular way, the Universe is also born
and dies with the birth and death of the human being. Indeed, would the
firmament, with its billions of galaxies, really exist if there were not a form
of conscious intelligence to recognize and appreciate the wonder of its
manifestation?

In the same way, it is only to the extent that the aspirant stops dreaming
and begins to awaken inwardly that the Majestic Silent Witness that she
carries within her being without usually being conscious of it can reveal
itself to her inner vision, filling her with its indescribable Light. Perhaps the
Sublime also needs a conscious intelligence, free of the dreams in which the
average human being basks so passively, in order to appreciate and venerate
its Sovereign Presence within oneself and in the Cosmos.

It is only through a profound and sustained introversion during her

meditation that the seeker can recognize another world within herself,
which, otherwise, would remain out of reach to her, veiled by the dreams
and images that her mind never stops projecting into the space of her
consciousness. It is in the silence of this inner universe that she will be able
subtly to perceive and apprehend the Real.

When this crucial introversion is accomplished in a right way in active

life—that is to say that it is maintained with sufficient intensity, but also
with gentleness and accompanied by a profound awakening and inner
silence—the aspirant will then begin, through this awakening and this
silence within her, to truly see what her eyes look at and truly hear what her
ears listen to. In a way that is ordinarily incomprehensible, all that she has
really seen and really heard, she has possessed! She has acquired it within
her forever. It has become her true wealth that no one can ever take from
her and that has nothing to do with the material goods of this world, which
she will never be able to take with her when the hour of her death arrives.

Great painters who try to grasp the ineffable perfection of Reality strive,
without knowing it, to truly see what their eyes look at so as to try to
reproduce on the canvas the beauty they feel vibrating in their being.

In all artistic creation, extroversion has no place. Great painters or great

composers are inevitably profoundly introverted beings. It is only in the
moments that composers are intensely introverted, inwardly awakened and
receptive[25] that the necessary silence for them to receive their inspirations
can reign within them.

Thus, it is possible to see the preponderant role that introversion plays

in all authentic works of art, in allowing their authors to really see or really
hear what the Superior Aspect of their double nature is so mysteriously
transmitting to them.

The more extroverted and absent to herself someone is, the more she is
cut off from her Divine Source and the more she is introverted and inwardly
awakened, the more she is joined with her Divine Essence. Furthermore, the
more she is joined with her Divine Origin, the more simple and humble she
will become, because she will see that, in herself, she is nothing. Her life
will only be able to begin to have any meaning for her when she is joined
with her Celestial Source. However, this humility is not how one ordinarily
imagines it. True humility does not consist in keeping one’s head bowed
and one’s body pitifully hunched over—as can often be observed in the
West. If this humility is real and not feigned and affected, it is borne with
dignity. True humility and dignity go together.

* * *

Although, on a spiritual path, it is often necessary to speak of a goal to

reach, in order to try, inadequately, to explain the inexplicable, the serious
seeker must nevertheless remember that, when it comes to her spiritual
practice, the goal is always in the present. In a way, it can be said that once
she has set out on the Path, for her there can be no question of one day
reaching a final goal and then everything stopping there—as it is with
ordinary things or the activities of this world—because that would mean
that the goal would be an “end” in a sort of eternal death and that afterwards
there would be nothing more. In spiritual work, the goal and the present are,
in reality, indissociable; for the aspirant, every moment must become the
goal, otherwise she is likely to find herself all sorts of justifications, to
dream of a goal situated in a distant future and, in the meanwhile, to
undertake, without being conscious of it, only a half-hearted spiritual
practice that will come to nothing.

When there is not continual renewal in the seeker’s spiritual work,

stagnation sets in and her practice becomes like water in a puddle festering
in a dried up riverbed. Every moment must be new for her.

So as to be helped more in her spiritual journey, she must keep in mind

that the goal is always in the present moment. If she really understands that,
she will accomplish her meditation practice and her various concentration
exercises without ever being preoccupied with the results.

The goal is repeated every time the movement of coming back to herself
or particular introversion occurs in the aspirant, even if it is only for a brief
moment. It is the level of her being as well as the intensity of this state of
presence within her that determines the level of the goal attained. In a way,
the goal can have no end, but is rather a sort of strange pilgrimage or ever-
renewed adventure.

If the seeker wishes not to distort her approach to this inhabitual quest,
she has to remember ceaselessly that the goal is a perpetual renewal,
always in the present, and not a special state that she can gain in the future
and in which she will install herself forever.

* * *

Before the appearance of the Cosmos, time and its movement did not
exist; there was only an eternal now. It is the same for human beings;
before their birth into the phenomenal world, time and its movement do not
exist for them. It is the birth, growth, and aging of their planetary bodies
that give them the illusion of the movement of time.

The tragedy of their incarnation lies in the fact that, without being
conscious of it, they never live in the present moment; they continually
project themselves into the future and constantly anticipate it. Furthermore,
their gaze is only turned towards the future in relation to their experiences
of the past, because they are unable to efface from their minds what they
were or what they imagine they will become. Thus, for them, the past
ceaselessly projects itself into the future, and eternity, which is in the
present, always eludes them.

Hardly has the present moment arrived than it disappears into what
seems to be an unfathomable nothingness. Every moment is in movement
towards another and becomes another moment every fraction of a second.
However, behind this uninterrupted temporal movement, something
remains mysteriously unaltered. Despite these continual changes in external
life and despite the incessant movement of time, human beings, without
being aware of it, cannot help having the strange and inexplicable feeling of
always existing or being!

From their childhood and as they grow, without them realizing it, they
never stop physically dying. Their organism dies, day after day, without
them perceiving what is happening within them. The body of an old woman
is obviously not the one she had when she was a child, but does she cease to
be or to have the feeling of being because her corporeal form is changing
and dying from one year, or even from one second, to the next?

Everything that, consciously or not, human beings think and do is

mysteriously recorded somewhere within them and is transformed, through
its constant repetition, into deeply rooted tendencies within them. It is in
this way that, at the moment of their birth into the phenomenal world, they
carry with them their own specific tendencies, acquired in a distant past,
impossible to apprehend ordinarily. It is possible that they may feel strongly
drawn to a particular domain—spirituality, art, philosophy, or something
else; it must be understood that this can only result from a profound interest
that they have manifested in a long-ago time, too enigmatic for the human
mind to be able to scrutinize it and that they seem to have forgotten—just as
one forgets what one thought, said, and did in one’s childhood or even the
week or day before.

Human beings are mysterious creatures. It is very strange what can

suddenly arise in their minds by way of memories of a situation they
experienced, a sentiment they felt, an action they accomplished long ago, or
even, in an incomprehensible way, of a simple fleeting thought they had in a
distant past, when they were children, and that they thought had vanished
forever.

All the events that have occurred in their lives mysteriously continue to
leave a trace in them and condition their beings, their way of thinking, and
their vision of the external world. They cannot avoid being what they are
and—unless an unexpected circumstance arises to change the course of
their existence—what they will become. Moreover, even if they succeed,
through certain specific exercises, in introverting themselves so profoundly
that they attain secret regions of their consciousness and recall some of their
former lives, these memories will be too sparse and confused. It will be
impossible for them to visualize the totality of their past actions, as well as
the consequences those actions had and continue to have for their being, or
even, as everything is interconnected, the mysterious traces those actions
were able to leave on this planet, and to see how they have been able to
impact and how they still impact this globe, for better or worse.

* * *

If a seeker is correctly introverted and inwardly awakened, the

unfavorable tendencies that still subsist within her can no longer assail her.
It is necessary for her to realize that any negative chatter, external or
internal, any vain activity, and any idleness, not only defile her being but,
sooner or later, bring affliction in their wake. It is right comprehension and
wisdom that burn and transmute the defilements in human beings. Inactivity
leads to boredom, which, in its turn, engenders futile or even destructive
occupations.

Through right introversion and inner awakening, one can progressively

become more free of needing external conditions and sensory stimuli to be
able to feel oneself; in other words, one can begin to be.

All external influences and incitements to obtain ever more pleasure set
in motion the imaginations of human beings who are ceaselessly seeking
new opportunities for enjoyment, which, in their turn, make them more and
more extroverted and vulnerable; in this way, sensory pleasures trap them
and finally reduce them to the level of an animal. Dogs and cats eat and
take delight in their food; they enjoy being lazy at certain moments and
mating at others, until the day when death suddenly descends upon them
and carries them away. If humans beings do not seek to know themselves
and go beyond the ordinary existence of the physical world, are they not
simply living a futile, almost animal, life until the moment the god of death
catches them too and takes them to his kingdom?

It is perhaps possible to compare the Earth to a gigantic entity in the

service of the god of death, a starving entity which, since the dawn of
Creation, has been ceaselessly swallowing all that lives without ever being
satiated and which will remain insatiable until the end of time.

The kinds of things that solicit and hold the attention of human beings,
the activities they like devoting themselves to—without forgetting either the
way in which they accomplish those activities, as well as their state of being
at those moments—reveal what they are within themselves; their way of
being and their way of acting cannot be different, because they reflect their
nature and constitute, consequently, an indication of their spiritual
possibilities, whether these are limited, average, or considerable.

Through self-study, the seeker can come to discern what she is still
missing in order to be able to understand, even if only a little, what is
transmitted to her in a teaching and what an authentic spiritual practice
demands from her. She needs to realize that, on a spiritual path—as for
everything one tries to obtain in the external world—one receives only to
the extent that one gives. The more an aspirant gives of herself, the more
she receives; the less she gives of herself, the less she receives. The more
one does, the more one can do; the less one does, the less one wants to do.
In perfect equity, all incarnate men and women obtain what corresponds to
the kinds of thoughts—whether they are positive and creative, or negative
and sterile—that consciously or unconsciously, they cultivate within
themselves, to their way of being in life, and to their way of behaving with
others.

Someone who listens to a great musical work perceives what is

transmitted to her according to the level of her being and her sensibility. It
is the same for a spiritual teaching; everyone receives it according to her
level of being, her degree of intelligence, and what she is capable of
understanding. However, a purely intellectual understanding can only
deform what is transmitted to her. It is first necessary to be, if only a little,
to be able to understand.

Wanting always to acquire more is the characteristic of someone who is

too extroverted; yet, one desire only engenders another. Every desire begins
as a thought that incites the person in whom it arises to want to make it
concrete. The more someone is capable of being, the fewer desires there are
in her and the less she is capable of being, the more she is extroverted and
covetous of external things in order to fill the lack she feels inside. When
there is “being” within her, tranquility of mind reigns and when there is not
“being,” it is the incessant movement of her mind that dominates and
inevitably precipitates her towards the exterior, making her ever more
extroverted and cutting her off from her Primordial Source. However,
liberating oneself from one’s desires must not, in any way, be accomplished
through constraint nor through blind repression, which could cause
frustrations and even an increasing appetite for that from which one wants
to free oneself. It is only by turning one’s attention inwards, towards
another aspect of oneself that is beyond the world of the senses that
attraction to external riches and pleasures will subside by itself.

Everything stems from the idea that one forges oneself. It therefore
proves indispensable for a seeker who aspires to her liberation to have the
courage to face her servitude to the false image she has of herself, to her
ordinary desires, and to all the subjective and futile beliefs to which,
without being conscious of it, she clings frenetically, for fear of finding
herself annihilated if she renounces them. It is strange to note the extent to
which someone can come to revolt against people or situations that show
her the truth about herself, because she cannot bear to discover what she is.

Accepting seeing oneself as one is demands a great deal of honesty and

courage. Thus, without realizing it, human beings remain trapped in their
negative attitudes, at their expense. They do not see that they are only
required to renounce what is useless within them and their attachment to the
things of this world which, in any case, will abandon them sooner or later,
when the hour of their death comes.

It is necessary to empty the water from a recipient in order for air, which
is a finer and more subtle element, to be able to replace it. It is the same for
the aspirant; she needs to find the necessary means to succeed in creating
within herself the indispensable void that will allow her Superior Nature to
begin to fill her being with its mysterious presence. A complete reversal
needs to take place in her mind, in her comprehension, and in her sentiment,
if she truly desires to come to recognize, through direct experience, that
subtle Silent Witness that she carries within herself, behind the movement
of her mind, and that is waiting to take up its legitimate place within her to
illuminate her being with its royal splendor.

Becoming true is of essential importance to a seeker in her quest for the

Sublime. It demands an entirely out-of-the-ordinary honesty towards
herself. Without the conscious struggle for the transformation of her
undesirable tendencies and her customary false state, she will not be able to
liberate herself from her enslavement to the physical world and to suffering.

Through an inexorable mathematical law, it will be impossible for her to

elevate herself to a plane of being that belongs to the Sacred while
remaining what she habitually is, weighed down by the burden of her
ordinary penchants and desires. Unless water is transmuted into steam, it
cannot rise into the air; it remains a prisoner on the earth, the victim of its
own weight. The aspirant cannot carry an untruthful way of being with her
into a Universe where the Supreme Truth reigns.
 * * *

By trying relentlessly to become conscious of herself in her daily life,

the seeker will discover, little by little, the various unfavorable tendencies
that inhabit her, her subjective judgments, her futile beliefs, etc., which all
prove to be significant obstacles to her spiritual evolution. She will wish to
find the means to free herself of her servitude to her inferior self.

In order to succeed in remaining conscious of herself and introverted in

the way she must be for ever longer periods, she must learn to renew this
movement of introversion every time she feels it weaken.

Furthermore, corporeal sensation constitutes an indispensable aid to

allow her to perform and maintain this movement of introversion or coming
back to herself. She must therefore try to preserve the sensation of her body
everywhere she goes and in all that she does—and not just when she is
consecrating herself to her meditation practice or her various spiritual
exercises.

Another important support for her spiritual practice, which the aspirant
must consider with much seriousness, lies in the way she holds herself
physically, not just in active life, but, above all, when she is alone at home.
She might believe that because no one can see her, she can let herself go
and it does not matter how she holds herself. It must not be forgotten that,
as human beings are creatures of habit—and they cannot be otherwise—
they must be very vigilant and attentive to what they can allow themselves
when they are alone. Everything they do very quickly becomes a habit and,
once installed within them, a bad habit proves very difficult to eradicate
later.

The way someone sits attests to her state of being; it is an indication of

what she is in herself. Her psychological and emotional problems are
inscribed in the postures of her body. Crossing her legs, crossing her arms
across her chest, leaning forwards, bending her head, etc. are tangible signs
of her tensions, her fears, her sadness, or her refusal of situations she cannot
avoid. Through observation of her corporeal attitudes, the seeker can
discover how, without being aware of it, she is continually on the defensive.
The way she holds herself may even have an effect on her voice;[26] indeed,
the voice is very revealing of what one is in oneself and what one feels.
Correct bodily poise, that is to say, being well seated on the spine, will help
the aspirant find her center of gravity as well as feeling much greater
tranquility of mind—especially when she is accomplishing her meditation
practice. Furthermore, seeking a right corporeal attitude will become a
reminder to her of that movement of introversion that she must constantly
try to perpetuate in active life.

It is necessary to emphasize again that all meditation practice—or any

other spiritual work—inevitably implies a movement of coming back to
oneself, a particular introversion that, when it is correctly undertaken, is
accompanied by a subtle awakening of consciousness that one cannot
ordinarily know.

Becoming inwardly awakened and conscious of oneself is, in essence,

the path to liberation from what one commonly is and from all the
afflictions that inevitably cause a habitual and mechanical way of being.
True happiness consists in joining something within oneself that transcends
the impulses of one’s primary instincts. It is only by constantly trying to
remain conscious of herself, when she is alone as well as in the movement
of external life, that a seeker will be able to come to be joined with the
Superior Aspect of her nature, that Transparent and Silent Spectator within
her—an achievement that should become the aim of any serious aspirant.
And this goal is always in the present moment.

In this always renewed present moment, she may even discover, with
reverential wonder, that, in fact, it is not she who is in quest of the Sublime,
but it is the Sublime which seeks to reveal to her Its Sovereign Presence
buried in the depths of her being!
 9 - Self-Surrender

There may be some days when the seeker experiences a great lack of
energy to carry out his spiritual practice—because of excessive fatigue,
poor health, or even unfavorable atmospheric conditions. He finds himself
weighed down and incapable of stimulating himself sufficiently to approach
his meditation in a lively manner. His efforts appear to him to be half-
hearted and forced. He cannot reanimate his sentiment sufficiently for his
spiritual aspirations to find their strength again so as to support him in his
meditation and his spiritual exercises. He feels in a foggy state, inwardly
arid, poor, and discouraged.

It is precisely at these moments, when he cannot restimulate his mind

and his sentiment so as to be able to approach his meditation practice and
his various concentration exercises with the necessary fervor, that he must
learn the subtle art of “self-surrender.” However, in order to avoid a trap
that the aspirant risks falling into without being conscious of it, it is
necessary to specify that this delicate approach of “self-surrender” does not,
in any way, mean sinking into a state of soothing passivity or pleasant
subtle inertia—which could easily occur in an unwise seeker. If the aspirant
is not sufficiently attentive and circumspect, he will, before he realizes what
is happening to him, find himself cradled in a state of pleasant absence to
himself, inwardly sleeping more than ever and even, without being able to
control himself, drowsing during his meditation.

Unlike that condition of mental torpor, which may result in a sort of

agreeable unconscious resignation from which it would be very difficult to
detach oneself subsequently, here it is a question of attaining a very
particular state of being, characterized by the highest and most subtle inner
activity, accompanied by an intense awakening of consciousness. It is also
an act of inward opening, extremely subtle and vivid, through which the
seeker puts himself at the disposal of a force within himself which is
beyond him and through which he will feel an extremely fine vibration and
energy begin to act within him and animate his being.

If he wants to progress on this arduous path, the aspirant must succeed

one day in combining all the spiritual efforts he tries to make—whether
during his meditation or his concentration exercises in active life—with this
very delicate and subtle inner act of “self-surrender.” He will thereby come
to apprehend, through direct experience, what it means to submit to and
allow himself to be carried by a superior force within him, which does not
depend on his ordinary will, while continuing, simultaneously, to assume his
part of the effort, which he must, in any case, still make in this enigmatic
spiritual adventure.

This approach of “self-surrender”—which the seeker undertakes at the

same time as he tries to meditate or to practice a spiritual exercise—is the
most difficult inner act to understand and accomplish. It is only after many
attempts and following repeated failures—everything depends on his level
of being and his sensibility—that he will succeed. He will then come to
realize intuitively the necessity of not intervening when a superior force
begins to act within his being in order to support him in this difficult
journey in quest of his Divine Identity.

To help the aspirant better grasp what is so difficult to describe in

words, it is perhaps possible to compare this subtle inner act of “self-
surrender” with the attitude of a newborn who surrenders himself quite
naturally to his mother, with total relaxation and trust—a way of being that
the aspirant must come to feel within him through a particular and lively
understanding.

He must give himself to something else within him—which, to an

extent, will always be beyond him—and allow the space within him to be
occupied by this Superior Aspect of his double nature. He must allow It to
manifest Itself in his being, according to Its Will and according to what It
knows is good for him, so as to animate his aspirations and keep his various
spiritual practices alive.

If the seeker succeeds in undertaking this delicate inner step of “self-

surrender” in a right way during his meditation or his other spiritual
practices—without allowing himself to sink into a state of torpor or
agreeable lethargy, which could seize him so surreptitiously that he may
only realize what has happened to him when he is recalled to himself—and
if he succeeds in liberating himself from his ordinary will and from all that
he habitually wants and does not want, then an out-of-the-ordinary state of
being will begin to reveal itself mysteriously within him. This superior state
of consciousness will subtly replace his customary individuality and elevate
him to another plane of being that is inhabitual to him. At these privileged
moments, the aspirant will feel an immense reverential respect arise within
him, because he will realize that what he feels belongs to another
dimension, outside time and space, ordinarily unknown. At these most
blessed moments, he will be permeated by a strange sentiment of the
Sacred, accompanied by an indescribable Love, which will take possession
of his being, filling him with tranquil felicity.

* * *

At the beginning of his mysterious spiritual adventure, the seeker may

not realize that this inner act of “self-surrender,” which must, little by little,
become for him a permanent and natural way of being, in reality constitutes
an apprenticeship and an important preparation for the hour of his death,
the hour of the dissolution of his corporeal form—a phenomenon that no
living creature (who, for a usually unfathomable reason, has taken on a
visible body), no celestial star, not even the Universe can escape.

Knowing how to surrender himself inwardly will be an inestimable aid

for the aspirant when the moment of his physical death comes and he is
carried away by an invisible force, in the face of which he will find himself
totally helpless. At that fatal moment, it will be so precious to him to be
already familiar with this subtle inner approach of “self-surrender.”

All his spiritual work must, in fact, become a preparation for that
implacable hour, that crucial instant when he will be initiated into
something whose immensity he cannot usually conceive—unless he has
already had, during his meditation, a glimpse of that enigmatic state, into
which he will be reabsorbed after his death; he will then be more confident
and be able to surrender himself inwardly without fear when the moment
comes for him.
 Self-surrender (which also involves renunciation of what one is in
oneself and all that makes up one’s ordinary personality) will become easier
to practice for the seeker the day he sees, with all of himself, the futility of
his habitual state of being—a state of being and a way of feeling in which
human beings are so tragically trapped, without understanding their
situation or even being conscious of it.

This delicate inner approach of “self-surrender,” which the aspirant

must succeed in undertaking during his meditation and various spiritual
exercises, will teach him to accept that life cannot be other than it is and,
thus, to submit to the inevitable with the necessary understanding, which
will allow him to bear with courage the vicissitudes of earthly existence.

This particular attitude that he must, little by little, come to establish

within himself, will also teach him how to assume his destiny without
rebelling if that destiny seems difficult to him. It will also prepare him to
accept his physical death without resisting when that inexorable moment
arrives and the god of death stands before him in all his might, enjoining
him to quit the world he has known hitherto for another world with which
he will, willingly or not, have to familiarize himself.

Paradoxically, “self-surrender”—if it is accomplished in a right way—

can open to the seeker a door to the possibility of being. As long as he is not
capable of being, he cannot do otherwise than react to the circumstances of
external life. People are generally not capable of being; consequently, they
have no control over their emotions, their thoughts, or the unfolding of their
existence. Ordinarily, everything happens to them involuntarily. To be able
to act or to have a certain degree of control over the events of their lives,
they first need to be able to be. As long as they remain what they are, it is
difficult for them to understand what it really means to act. Without ever
knowing it, most of the time they only endure. They are constantly
manipulated by those around them and drawn along by the changing
conditions of the manifest world, without even being able to give any
determined direction to their existence.

When an aspirant begins to “be,” not only does he have a little choice
in relation to the unfolding of his life, but he also attracts more favorable
conditions than those he has known hitherto and which correspond to a new
way of “vibrating” within himself. Thus, his new way of being can change
the course of the rest of his sojourn on Earth.

So as to avoid any misunderstanding about a approach that is so difficult

to explain and to put into practice correctly, it is necessary to specify once
more that this subtle act of self-surrender does not, in any way, consist in
remaining inert and passive; on the contrary, it involves a particular inner
opening, which makes the seeker extremely alert and through which the
seeker is put into contact with an aspect of his nature that exerts the highest
and finest inner activity, which he cannot know in his customary state—an
aspect of his nature that never sleeps and that manifests itself through a
form of consciousness that he cannot not recognize when it reveals itself to
his inner vision.

It is also important to emphasize that this act of “self-surrender” cannot,

in any way, be conditional. It must, effectively, be accomplished without
conditions of any sort, without expecting or anticipating anything, if the
aspirant does not want to interfere with the action of a superior force that
does not depend on his ordinary will and that may begin to manifest itself
within him in order to illuminate his being. His attitude must be like that of
a small child who does something simply for the pleasure of doing it. That
is why the aspirant must be careful not to expect, consciously or
unconsciously, a reward of any sort for any spiritual effort he tries to make.

As the seeker detaches himself from his ordinary will and becomes
more open and more inwardly receptive, he will see his prayer itself
transform into wordless meditation. One has less and less to say, until a
mysterious and tranquil inner silence installs itself within one. Only then
does it prove possible to begin to hear within oneself what was hitherto
inaudible .

The Superior Aspect of his nature can be recognized by the aspirant

only in the interval or the void separating two states or two thoughts. In this
moment of silence and inner receptiveness, he will grasp this mystery that is
usually completely inexplicable. God only recognizes him when he
recognizes God!

* * *
 To be aware of being consciousness of oneself is to begin to die to
oneself and one’s ordinary will. It is also, paradoxically, to begin to be able
to be, because it is only to the extent that the aspirant dies to himself that he
begins to be. And it is only to the extent that he becomes capable of being
that he can begin to act in life in a more right way, instead of simply
reacting subjectively—as he habitually does.

Self-surrender also involves, for the seeker, the surrender of all the
things and all the beliefs that are useless to his spiritual evolution and to
which he is so attached. Because human beings are cut off from their
Primordial Source, their attachment to material goods, their beliefs, and
their various physical sensations has become for them a way of assuring
themselves that they exist. Their attachment to the beings and things around
them gives them the feeling that their identity is assured; in this way, they
unconsciously have the impression of perpetuating the survival of their
physical bodies. And, curiously, they are even attached to their various
torments, their griefs, and their irrational fears in order to have the
assurance that they exist.

Now, they do not see that their attachment to objects, to the people
around them, and to external contingencies only reinforces their desires,
which ceaselessly grow and trap them. Consequently, they draw ever
further away from their Divine Essence and become more than ever
incapable of regarding the world around them and manifest life in an
uninvolved and objective manner.

Through the study of himself and his various desires, the aspirant will
come to notice that it is always the thought that appears first, then this
thought leads to the action; in other words, the intention always precedes
the act. There is also a close relationship between the action and the motive
that incites the action, whatever it is.

For that matter, every desire or every irrational dream of something he

cannot obtain only causes torments within him. Moreover, every refusal of a
situation or of the conditions of life in which his destiny has placed him
only brings him sorrows—with no benefit to him.
 If the seeker succeeds in detaching himself, even if only a little, from
his ordinary state of being, in order to study himself, he will remark the
contrast between the rare moments when it is really he who speaks and the
long moments when he is quite simply manipulated from outside and driven
to speak, the contrast between the rare moments when it is truly he who
listens and the long moments when he finds himself in the grip of the
external and driven to listen, the contrast between the rare instants when it
is truly he who acts and the long moments when, without ever being
conscious of it, he is driven by external forces simply to react, and so on.
Human beings are unaware of the way in which they are helpless and do not
see the extent to which they are simply the playthings of external forces that
are beyond them. As long as they remain unconscious of themselves and
incapable of being, there can be no choice for them in anything.

In the artistic domain, the creation of a pictorial or musical masterpiece

can only be accomplished if the painter or the composer is capable, at least
to some degree, of being while he brings forth his work. One is dazzled
when contemplating the extraordinary paintings of Leonardo da Vinci or
listening to the immense orchestral compositions of Richard Strauss or
Gustav Mahler; however, the creation of such masterpieces was only
possible because, without knowing it, the artists demonstrated, during the
creative process, a certain degree of being.[27]

When this delicate approach of “self-surrender” is undertaken in a right

way, it results in a very particular inner awakening. The aspirant will then
be put in contact with a superior force and intelligence within him which
will instruct him and guide him during his difficult journey in this form of
existence. He will not only be protected from himself and his ordinary
desires, but also helped so that his intellectual faculties and his physical
aptitudes are used towards a more elevated goal than the dreams and
ambitions he pursued hitherto. He will become more conscious of the
external impressions he allows to infiltrate his being. He will also be able to
see when he is influenced by inferior forces within him and when he is
inspired by the Superior Aspect of his nature.

However, this act of “self-surrender” must not, in any way, be

accomplished with the desire, conscious or unconscious, of obtaining
anything; that would be a sterile attitude that would bring him only
disappointments or even torments. This approach must be free of all
personal interest. Self-surrender, as well as attempts to remain inwardly
present and awakened, must be acts of recollection and become a sort of
silent prayer for the seeker.

It is very important that the seeker realize that is only through his
patient and repeated attempts to remain present and conscious of himself in
the difficult conditions of the external world that he will break, little by
little, the chains of his past karma and will protect himself from any act
likely to bring him new karmic debts. He will also weaken and cause to
disappear the undesirable tendencies installed within him and, thus, he will
change the course of his current life and his future destiny.

Moreover, by trying to remain conscious of himself at the same time as

he tries to surrender himself inwardly, he will note, in a very particular
manner, the uselessness of his ordinary state of being. An ardent wish will
then be born within him to liberate himself from his servitude to the
insatiable desires of his inferior self, which are obstacles on his route
towards the Infinite.

What prevents human beings from recognizing their superior nature and
attaining enlightenment is that they are not capable of grasping, or rather
that they are not ready to understand the subtle aspect that is behind
manifest existence. Because of an unfortunate tendency within them to
always seek ease in everything and in all that they do, their gaze and their
attention are, without them realizing it, only attracted to the exterior and
directed passively towards the visible and concrete aspect of life. They
content themselves with what their sensory organs convey to them by way
of impressions. Meditation practice and spiritual exercises have the precise
goal of elevating the seeker’s level of consciousness in order to allow him
to inwardly cross the threshold of the tangible and recognize, behind it, the
subtle and immutable aspect of his double nature, which the laws of gravity
and dissolution cannot affect.

As, ordinarily, human beings are unaware of the superior aspect of their
being, they lose themselves in the pleasures of the senses, in fantasies of all
kinds, which bear no relation to reality or the maintenance of their earthly
lives, and in futile mental ruminations that are often even self-destructive.

The superior nature within them is a state of grace that eludes the
comprehension of the mass of humanity, whose sole interest is centered on
the visible and material aspect of Creation. When, through sincere and
tenacious efforts, the aspirant succeeds in discovering the Light of his
Superior Being and immersing himself in it, subtle creative energies will
awaken within him, which will be able to accomplish miracles in his mind
and in his way of seeing himself. These subtle energies will be able to give
his existence a new direction, completely different from that taken
previously. All that used to preoccupy him and be close to his heart before
will then lose its importance in his eyes, thus liberating his mind and his
thoughts, so that he can put himself at the disposal of this other aspect of his
nature. The transformation that will occur in his being will make him
capable of apprehending Creation from a radically different perspective. He
will draw his inspiration and his strength from an invisible Universe within
his being, allowing him to realize his superior destiny and bring wisdom
and hope to his fellows who, unaware of the existence of another world
within them, live only in discord and perpetual conflict, without gaining any
benefit for their evolution from it.

Self-surrender is, in fact, a simple approach, but not easy to perform.

Because human beings have left the domain of sentiment to fall into that of
thought, they have lost a certain tranquility of mind and the sense of beauty.
Consequently, they live more and more on the surface of themselves and
are now only governed by their minds, instead of being governed by the
wisdom and the aesthetic sentiment of their Superior Being. Being thus
transformed into a coldly intellectual being, their minds and their emotions
have become dramatically active and leave them not a moment’s respite.
From this aspect of themselves, they do not know and cannot know peace.

Because of the incessant activity of their minds, the screen of clean and
immutable consciousness[28] that exists behind all this uncontrolled
agitation and din within them always eludes them. Being receptive to
something higher within oneself necessitates distancing oneself from what
one is habitually and concentrating, without distraction, until one accedes to
an inner silence, which alone can allow the Sublime within one to be
discovered.

When a fierce storm strikes the ocean, the waves attain spectacular
heights and furiously crash together. However, although the waves are
performing their wild and chaotic dance on the surface, as one plunges into
the mysterious depths of the oceans, one finds ever more tranquility, until
one comes to absolute calm. It is the same for human beings; the more they
succeed in descending into the depths of their being, the more they find
inner immobility and peace of mind.

Yet, they are like corks without consistency, floating on the surface of
the sea, swept along by the waves, which carry them where they will; when
one tries to pull them down into the depths, they systematically bob back up
to the surface, as though on a spring.

* * *

Despite their efforts and all the technical means they may invent,
however prodigious these means may be, human beings cannot succeed in
making permanent their bodies or the objects of their pleasure or the
conditions of this world, which, like all things created in time and space,
cannot but be unstable and in perpetual movement and which are prey to the
god of death—in the same way as the planet, on which they live and on
which they depend entirely for the maintenance of their physical existence,
is in continual movement, always changing and inexorably destined to
disappear one day.

One can only know what is immutable and celestial within one when
one succeeds in detaching oneself from one’s ordinary desires, in calming
the agitation of one’s mind, and in creating within oneself a certain degree
of silence. To succeed in this, it is first necessary to accept the inevitable—
to accept the precarious and uncertain conditions of this form of existence
that cannot be avoided—then to really understand what this important act of
“self-surrender” consists in. Despite what the word “surrender” might
suggest, paradoxically this action is not, in any way, passive, but rather, as
previously mentioned, belongs to the highest and finest inner activity,
which has nothing in common with the crude and obvious activity of the
external world.

It is only when the aspirant succeeds in being conscious of himself in a

way that is not habitual to him, that he will come to be sufficiently distant
from himself to notice what is happening within him most of the time and
which, ordinarily, eludes him. He will thus be able to discover, with a new
gaze, the various manifestations and tendencies of his profane self, which
are obstacles to his spiritual quest. Through continual repetition of this gaze
on the one who habitually acts within him, the distance between the one
who sees and the one who is seen will increase and, the greater this distance
between the one who sees and the one who is seen, the greater will be the
possibility for the seeker of recognizing this mysterious Immutable and
Silent Spectator that he carries in his being.

The aspirant will begin to perceive better, in brief flashes at the

beginning, the aspect of himself from which he must detach himself so as to
be capable of seeing what is happening within him. And, as he continues to
observe who is acting within him habitually, a very particular knowledge of
what must be inwardly sacrificed throughout his whole life—to allow his
superior nature to reign in his being—will grow within him, in an ever
clearer way. Self-surrender will also prove to be closely linked to the
surrender of his ordinary self—of his individuality as he usually knows it.

It is only on the day that he truly recognizes the futility of persisting in

nurturing the changing and meaningless fantasies of his profane self that he
will find the strength to turn his gaze inward, towards that other aspect of
his double nature and to use the precious gift of his attention to maintain
himself in that state of being that he must, henceforward, try to hold onto
with all of himself.

However, it is important to understand that the seeker will be unable to

renew this effort of presence to himself—which is the condition of an
inhabitual state of consciousness—if he is already carried away and
engulfed in his customary state of absence, for, once trapped in this state of
absence, it is impossible for him to remember to accomplish this particular
effort so as to be inwardly present and conscious of himself.
 It is only after some time of absence to himself, when a recovery of
consciousness suddenly occurs within him, that the aspirant will discover
that not only was he absent the moment before, but also that this recovery
of consciousness mysteriously occurred within him without him having
sought it. This state of consciousness, which manifests itself within him in
such an apparently unexpected way, is the result of his previous attempts to
remain present to himself. This reminder arises within him as a reward for
his previous efforts so as to help him better grasp what is involved for him
in this spiritual practice that is so out of the ordinary and what his
contribution must be in this strange adventure.

What is required of the seeker at such moments is to try, with all his
seriousness, to prolong this precious inhabitual presence for as long as
possible, before it deteriorates and once again merges with his ordinary
state and he loses it completely. It is necessary for him to realize that, once
he has felt and recognized this particular consciousness within him, his task
will then consist of trying to preserve it for as long as possible or, at the
very least, to renew it before it becomes too weak and finally vanishes
completely. By constantly trying to revive this state of presence within
himself every time it begins to deteriorate and lose its initial force, the
aspirant will, little by little, come to know the weak points that cause his
fall. He will also be able to see once more that this inhabitual consciousness
of oneself inevitably involves the renunciation of oneself and what one
usually is—this habitual way of being and feeling which is so deeply rooted
in human beings following long conditioning and to which they are not only
enslaved, but also, curiously, tragically attached.

Every time the seeker tries to remain conscious of himself, he will

remark ever more clearly his enslavement to his customary state of being
and the various penchants within him which prove to be obstacles to his
spiritual aspirations. Thus he will understand, from the depths of himself,
the necessity of liberating himself from all these tendencies in order to be
capable of obeying something more elevated within him. It is only to the
extent that he succeeds in remaining present and joined to this other aspect
of his nature that the transformation of his undesirable traits can be effected.
 The aspirant’s attitude plays a determining role in this difficult inner
approach. What matters here is that he continues to observe the
manifestations of his inferior nature with the necessary tenacity and
patience, but in an uninvolved way and without allowing, at any moment, a
feeling of guilt to install itself within him.

Corporeal sensation contributes enormously to helping the seeker

become more present and conscious of himself. It also encourages that
movement of “coming back to oneself” as well as a state of recollection,
which is so important on every spiritual path.

When the seeker succeeds in holding onto this particular state of

consciousness and increasing its duration, it will prove to be both a
detachment from what he usually is and a mysterious inner act of wordless
prayer.

Furthermore, he will discover that his desire to maintain this state of

consciousness of himself is, in reality, a secret and imperative need to be.

He will come to realize, from the depths of his being, in a way that is
quite impossible to describe in rational language, that sinking into his
habitual condition of absence to himself or waking sleep is a death and that,
conversely, every time that inexplicable movement of coming back to
himself occurs—after a brief or long moment of absence—and he finds this
inhabitual state of presence again, this recovery of consciousness of himself
is a true resurrection.

He will then realize, in a way that will shake him, that this spiritual
quest is truly a matter of life or death for him.

* * *

It is only to the extent that the aspirant is capable of remaining present

to himself that he can be. However, he must first renounce in order to be
able to be and, paradoxically, he must also be—at least to some degree—in
order to be able to renounce. Thus, renouncing and being are two conditions
that, on a spiritual path, are in continual interdependence.
 When the day comes that the seeker has the experience of being, even if
only weakly to begin with, a strange intuition will arise within him. He will
understand that, in fact, one does not need external supports or a physical
body to be able to be and that, deep down, being is his true nature—which,
generally, remains hidden from him, veiled by his ordinary personality
which always needs external stimuli to succeed in feeling its existence.

As long as human beings remain as they are, ignorant of their True

Identity, no choice is possible for them in the unfolding of their sojourn on
Earth; everything happens to them without them being able to change
anything. To begin to have a little choice in life, it is first necessary to be a
little. And to be able to be, it is first necessary to renounce. Now, to be able
to renounce, it is necessary to have understood. Finally, to be able to
understand, it is necessary to know what sort of questions to ask oneself—
and how to ask them.

If these questions are taken seriously by the aspirant and he is capable

of keeping them alive within him, with the ardent desire to discover the
enigma of his existence on this Earth, they will then, little by little,
engender within him the intuitive understanding that his immortality—a
word that falls so easily from people’s lips, but whose real meaning is
generally so misunderstood—depends on his capacity to be.

The seeker needs to accept participating with the Divine in the creation
of his future being by making, throughout his life, efforts to regularly
practice meditation as well as various spiritual exercises in active life. The
Divine cannot oblige human beings to renounce their own will—what they
are, what they want and do not want ordinarily—in order that Its Will be
done. It would be unjust to force them and it would also not be in
accordance with the rules of the Cosmic Game. The aspirant must, of his
own accord, come to consent, through a vivid and sincere comprehension,
to helping his Creator in Its Mysterious Work so that his accession to a
completely different plane of being might be accomplished—a particular
evolution, inconceivable to human beings in their habitual state.

It is first necessary to understand in order to be able to renounce. It is

first necessary to renounce in order to be able to remain conscious of
oneself. It is first necessary to remain conscious of oneself in order to be
able to be. And, paradoxically, it is necessary to succeed in being a little in
order to be able to remain conscious of oneself. It is necessary to succeed in
remaining conscious of oneself, even if only a little, in order to be able to
renounce. And it is necessary to succeed in renouncing, at least to some
degree, in order to be able to understand. Understand what? Renounce
what? What does it mean to remain conscious of oneself? What does it
mean to be? If someone is not profoundly motivated to approach such
practice, the immensity of this spiritual work will frighten him and the
tenacious efforts to be made will deter him.

However, if the seeker tirelessly pursues his efforts—without

considering a distant goal, but only the present moment—he will be able to
continue his spiritual practice without becoming discouraged. He will
nevertheless need all the help possible to accompany him and support him
in his mysterious journey towards the Infinite. Thus, in addition to the
corporeal sensation, mentioned earlier, he will sometimes have to use his
breathing as a support.

Taking a slow, deep breath from time to time during the day, with a brief
retention of the breath after the inhalation,[29] constitutes an aid to recenter
oneself inwardly and find again in oneself that inhabitual state of being.

Through these repeated efforts, the aspirant will come to see the extent
to which he ordinarily only lives and acts from the surface of himself. He
will then realize that succeeding in centering himself inwardly demands that
he let go of and renounce all that usually preoccupies him, as well as
surrendering to something within him whose existence he can only sense in
the moments when he is trying to distance himself from himself in order to
meditate or to perform a concentration exercise.

* * *

The seeker must remain on his guard and be careful not to approach this
spiritual practice with overly rational thought, for this would smother the
intuition within him; it would prevent him from accomplishing in a right
way this subtle approach of “self-surrender”—which is of extreme
importance in this quest. Furthermore, overly rational thought could
eventually engender physical, psychic, and emotional tensions within him.

Through continual practice of this inner act, the aspirant will finally
discover that the fact of being conscious of himself and self-surrender are
both closely linked to his sentiment and to a particular awakening within
him. He will also perceive that this approach cannot be undertaken while
relying on his mind or cold and rational thought. If he accomplishes it in a
right way, he will then find himself in a state of extreme tranquility and
inner receptiveness.

The seeker can use the following exercise[30] as an aid, in order to

succeed in sensing what this subtle “self-surrender” consists in. He must lie
down on the floor (or on his bed) with his head on a fairly flat cushion and
his arms alongside his body. He needs to bring his attention to bear on all
the parts of his body that are in contact with the floor (or his bed) and try,
relentlessly, to remain conscious of them. When he can really feel all the
parts of his body that are touching the floor, he must then put, or rather
“drop” the weight of his body onto all these points simultaneously. He must
remain very attentive to the parts of his body that are in contact with the
ground and feel them without interruption, while continuing to “drop” the
weight of his body onto these points. At the same time, he needs to listen to
and follow the mysterious continuity of the Nada, that particular sound
inside his ears, while being careful not to be, at any moment, overcome by a
state of torpor—which may occur if he is not sufficiently vigilant.

Remaining thus attentive to all the parts of his body that are touching
the floor and continuing to “drop” the weight of his body onto these contact
points, he will begin to feel pervaded by an immense corporeal and psychic
relaxation. All his sorrows, his day-to-day worries, and his physical
problems will mysteriously fade into the background, making way for a
strange well-being that is not of this world. An intense sensation of
surrender will take hold of him, and he will then feel the curious sentiment
of being carried by an inner force that is beyond him and that does not
depend on his ordinary will, which may even bring him the impression of
being freed from the laws of gravity—an impression that he may also have
when he attains a state of profound absorption during meditation.
 The aspirant must not, at any moment, allow himself to comment on
what is happening within him, nor seek to explain it, in order to avoid
interfering with this mysterious process which he must allow to act within
him and nourish his being. He needs, quite simply, to continue to surrender
himself with a tranquil confidence in that force that has awakened within
him—just like newborns surrender themselves in the loving arms of their
mothers, with absolute confidence, without concerning themselves over
what will happen to them or worrying about the protection of their bodies or
the satisfaction of their physical needs.

The existence of every human being should unfold in the same state of
mind as that of a newborn. Seekers must consecrate themselves to their
spiritual quests without worrying about their futures, without fearing for the
survival of their corporeal envelope, and without having an unreasonable
fear of the external world. They must simply live in the present.

What has just been said must not, however, be interpreted as an

incitation not to fulfill one’s duty towards those close to one or not to
assume one’s responsibility towards manifest life—which nourishes and
sustains the aspirant’s existence in a thousand ways and to which he owes a
debt he will never be able to repay. All that he does must be done with the
maximum of care and as perfectly as possible, because the way he
accomplishes his daily tasks, not only reflects what he is in himself at the
present moment—and, consequently, has a favorable or unfavorable effect
on his spiritual practice—but also determines what he will inevitably
become in the future, for better or worse.

When a certain threshold is crossed—whether during this exercise of

“self-surrender” or during his meditation—the seeker must quite simply
remain in a peaceful state of watchfulness, without seeking, desiring, or
anticipating anything. He needs only to submit to that Indescribable Aspect
of his nature, in relation to which his ordinary will no longer has any place,
and allow It to do what It wants with him.

The summit of meditation is reached when the aspirant has lost his
individuality as he habitually knows it and he has become one with his
Primordial Essence, absorbed into that mysterious Immutable and Celestial
Witness that he carries in his being.
 10 - Liberation and Choice

In their limited way, human beings know that they have no control over
the conditions of their conception and their coming into this world. At these
crucial moments, their will plays no part in anything that happens to them.
However, they do not know why or how they have neither power nor choice
over these events—such mysterious and determining events for their
temporary passage on this planet. They also do not know the way in which
they are, at such moments, the playthings of laws and forces that are beyond
them and that, as long as they remain what they are, will always constitute
an unfathomable enigma for them.

As they usually are, they are incapable of understanding why they are
helpless in the face of these forces that manipulate them and decide their
destiny—without leaving them any possibility of choice. As long as they
remain as they are, they will never know that they are subject to the
inexorable law of attraction and gravity, which controls the conditions of
their conception, their birth, and their sojourn on this Earth. They are
attracted, involuntarily, towards the type of mother and father they will
have, the kind of existence they will lead, the places where their lives will
unfold, as well as towards the particular conditions they will be constrained
to bear throughout their earthly sojourn—unless something unexpected
happens during their temporary passage on this globe and opens to them a
door to a possibility of evolving to another plane of being, ordinarily
completely unknown.

Human beings’ level of consciousness, the level of their being, and the
degree of their intelligence, play a preponderant role in their destiny. The
kinds of desires, habits, and penchants they accumulate within them also
have a considerable influence on the direction their existence will take,
whether for good or ill, towards a fertile or sterile accomplishment. Unless
a profound change occurs within them, they will find themselves always
subject to invisible laws and forces that are beyond them and that
manipulate them mysteriously as they will, without leaving them any choice
in anything at all. Despite all that they may wish, they will be continually
projected into situations that correspond to what they have made of
themselves.

They can do nothing against these forces that, in such an ordinarily

enigmatic and incomprehensible way, they have themselves engendered,
through their way of thinking and behaving—forces that precipitate them
ceaselessly into conditions of life that are often difficult for them to bear,
with the uncertain struggles that they must undertake for their survival and
the continual conflicts they experience with their fellows—and which are
their own, because they correspond to the way they vibrate within
themselves.

It is also necessary to take into consideration the fact that, although their
personal karma plays an important role, the karma of their parents, that of
those around them, as well as that of their country—even of their race and
of all humanity—may sometimes project them into dramatic situations over
which they will have little or no control.

Nothing is the product of chance. There is always a cause somewhere—

visible or invisible—which determines what all human beings are at the
moment of their arrival in the world as well as what they will become in the
future.

Without them being capable of grasping the reason for it, all incarnate
men and women find themselves mysteriously placed in the very conditions
that are necessary for their evolution. And it is useless for them to complain
if these conditions prove demanding or to rebel against them, because, in a
way that eludes their comprehension, it is they themselves who are at the
origin of them and it is they who must patiently endure their consequences.

What has just been said does not, of course, apply to the collective
tragedies which have, in all times, shed the blood of humanity and it does
not mean that one can, with a tranquil conscience, look upon people who
are suffering a sometimes dreadful fate and say to oneself: “It is their
karma, the play of cause and effect, that has led them into that situation, so
it is their fault if they find themselves in difficulty.” The forces present in
this domain are so complex that they are impossible to apprehend through
ordinary logic. Faced with distress of this kind, one must, on the contrary,
do all that is humanly possible to help such people.[31]

Incidentally, it must be noted that, even in the most terrible

circumstances where collective karma is preponderant, all people
nevertheless react according to what they are in themselves (the author, who
went through the tragedy of the Second World War, which caused him so
much suffering, is speaking here from personal experience).

If an aspirant takes the trouble to reflect on these mysterious laws that

govern the manifest world, she will come to understand that she must not,
in order to carry out her spiritual practice, waste her time in dreams of
benefiting from conditions she may imagine to be easier than those in
which she finds herself—and that she judges too hard for her. Without her
realizing it, the situation in which destiny placed her at the very moment
she took a spiritual path is perhaps exactly the one she needs to allow her to
go beyond herself and liberate herself from all her undesirable tendencies
and habits, in order that something decisive can occur in her life that will
lead her towards another Universe within herself, where the Light of her
Celestial Being reigns.

Thus, a seeker must come to recognize what hinders her personally on

her journey. However, it is necessary to specify again that there must be no
confusion between active acceptance and passive resignation. Accepting
the conditions in which one finds oneself does not mean that, if an
opportunity presents itself to improve one’s lot, one should not seize it.

Incidentally, it must not be forgotten that the further an aspirant

progresses on the path, the more elevated her levels of consciousness and
being will be and the less subject she will be to the mechanical laws of
attraction and gravity.

* * *

As previously mentioned, the majority of people have no choice

concerning the type of parents who will conceive them; nor can they decide
on their physique or the kind of life they will have, any more than the place
or the time in which they will be born. Furthermore, apart from their own
karma, they inevitably share that of their ancestors and their family, as well
as all those around them. Everything unfolds for them outside their control,
through the law that like attracts like. An eagle cannot be born to bears, any
more than a bear can be born to eagles—unless a radical change occurs in
the totality of its being.

All human beings gravitate, through the force of their desires, towards
the kinds of things and the form of existence that are proper to them and
that meet their most intimate aspirations. Even the choice of the partner
with whom they will share their lives is mysteriously determined through
the karma of each of them, by their level of being, as well as by the level of
their desires—whether these are of an elevated nature or, on the contrary,
are situated on an almost animal plane. However, the more an aspirant
evolves and liberates herself from the shackles of her unfavorable desires
and penchants, the more true her being becomes; she then begins to free
herself a little from these external laws that enslave the majority of people
and, consequently, to have some choice.

Thus, for a second category of humanity, a very small number of the

men and women who are born on this globe, there may be a possibility of
limited choice. In this case, the child will encounter the kind of parents
who, perhaps without knowing it, may possess qualities or even a particular
talent that will enrich the potential the newborn already holds within her.
She will be born in the place that corresponds to her needs, in order to
foster the growth and perfecting of her predominant aptitudes, as well as in
the time that will bring together the necessary conditions for the realization
of her destiny.

Furthermore, she will become incarnate bringing with her a rich

heritage of knowledge acquired in a far distant past—too enigmatic for the
mind of the average human being to apprehend it—which will determine
the direction that her new life will inevitably take.

Thus she will find herself, despite herself, mysteriously drawn to a

particular accomplishment, whether it be of a spiritual, artistic, or scientific
order,[32] already undertaken in an unfathomable past, but that remained
unfinished. Often, from her childhood, driven by an inexplicable force, she
will have within her a curious intuition, even a certitude, quite
incomprehensible to those around her, of what she will do with her
existence. She will pursue her path with strange determination, despite the
difficulties and the obstacles that may ceaselessly plague her and that she
will continually have to overcome in order to succeed in accomplishing the
enigmatic task for which she has come to this globe. Everything she will
subsequently realize will be permeated by a strange life and an assurance
that will ceaselessly astonish the world.

However, despite what a being of this type is in herself and however

singular her life may be, even she cannot escape the law of attraction and
gravity—which still plays a relatively important role in her being and in
what she will become.

On the other hand, there is a third category of human beings for whom
there is a true choice. However, these are very rare exceptions and the
incarnation of such beings in a human body, as well as the unfolding of
their lives—which often prove very eventful—will forever remain an
impenetrable enigma for the mass of humanity inhabiting this planet.

It is said, for example, that before his coming to Earth, the Buddha
chose his mother, the place he wanted to be born, and the conditions he
wanted for the realization of himself and his mission. And the same
phenomenon must have occurred for Christ.

It is also important to remember that these extraordinary beings had

mothers[33] who were themselves women without stain and entirely out of
the ordinary. Consequently, they were at a sufficiently elevated level of
being to be able to assume the heavy responsibility of carrying beings as
luminous and remarkable as Christ or the Buddha. Indeed, the crucial place
of women in the world must not be forgotten; they are the symbol of
protection in Nature and their persons must be protected and honored so
that Nature itself is respected and safeguarded through them. It is necessary
to take into consideration the essential position that the mother holds in the
life of every child—for whom, without exception, she is irreplaceable—as
well as her vital and determining role during pregnancy. The importance of
her mysterious contribution to the formation of the child’s psyche, during
the whole gestation period as well as after birth, is generally so poorly
understood and given so little consideration in society.

* * *

As long as human beings remain as they are, prisoners of their old ideas,
of what they subjectively believe to be good or bad, of their undesirable
penchants, and of their unrealistic dreams of permanent corporeal security
—in a world that is itself in no way safe or durable—there can be no
freedom of choice for them. And they cannot even understand the way in
which their unconscious attachments to their ordinary desires and to their
tendencies not only prevent them having any possibility of choice, but also
prevent them from knowing what they must objectively choose in order to
help their evolution.

Generally, they believe that it is they who decide all that they do in their
everyday lives; the reality, however, is quite different. They do not see the
extent to which they are—except in moments of extreme danger when they
become a little more awakened and conscious of themselves—manipulated
by their hidden tendencies, by the conditions of their environments, and by
the furtive suggestions they receive from the external world, which will
determine what they will do with their lives.[34]

Just like pieces of straw floating on the surface of a river, carried by the
tides without being able to resist, they generally follow the current of the
mass of humanity, without being capable of opposing it. Most of the time,
they only imitate others in all that they do, whether it be their way of
thinking, speaking, dressing, nourishing themselves, and so on. A lot of
courage and strength is needed to go against the current that, without being
conscious of it, the majority of people follow so passively.

Moreover, the multitude yields to all the fluctuations of customs, habits,

and fashions—which ceaselessly change from one generation to the next,
even from one year to the next—without ever questioning them. The
aspirant’s struggle will be all the more arduous if these changes are contrary
to any spiritual evolution—as can currently be seen in many domains, in
particular that of art.

As most men and women are not conscious of themselves in the way
they should really be, they cannot observe their behavior in everyday life
nor the unfavorable impulses within them that drive them to act without
thinking—to their own detriment as well as that of their fellows. It is
enough for someone, for the space of a moment, to blindly cede to an
irrepressible desire for her to commit an error that may, subsequently,
oblige her to spend the rest of her earthly existence laboriously trying to
repair it and correct its effects—often without even succeeding.

Without being conscious of it, human beings, as they ordinarily are, are
their own victims; they have become the victims of their penchants, their
habits, and their desires, which are all so firmly fixed within them that they
completely color their psyches and obscure them through their continual
demands. The aspirant is no different. Therefore she will have to try to
discover and study, one by one, the various unprofitable tendencies of her
nature. Then, just as she must apply herself to pulling out the weeds in her
garden thoroughly, so that those weeds do not smother what she has planted
there for her subsistence, she must resolutely strive to strip herself of all
that stands as an obstacle between her and the Light she seeks to attain.

The first goal of any spiritual practice is to succeed in making the seeker
sufficiently strong and conscious of herself so that she no longer cedes so
unthinkingly to the unfavorable impulses within her without envisaging in
advance the consequences for her being. In order to do this, she must first
accept making the necessary efforts to be distant enough from herself in
order to be able to see these urges that are habitually hidden from her inner
vision and that make her her own victim—urges that, curiously, she
becomes more and more attached to as she yields to their demands.

It is important for a seeker who seriously wishes to know herself to

understand that someone can become strangely attached to her negative
thoughts as well as to the self-destructive emotions that accompany them. It
is for this reason that it is vital for her to continually recall that nothing can
remain static in external life or in herself. If her attention and her energies
are not channeled in a positive direction, they will inevitably be drawn
downwards and used by her profane self to nourish fantasies (often sexual),
negative emotions or thoughts, and futile inner chatter.

The aspirant embarks on a spiritual path in quest of felicity, but it is

difficult for her to realize that it is impossible to attain such a state without
first liberating herself from her unfavorable tendencies and the crude and
demeaning desires of her profane self, which block the route to the Light of
her Celestial Self. It is not the search for felicity that should animate her at
the beginning, but rather the sincere wish to know the undesirable
penchants and states of her nature which do not allow felicity to spread
within her and elevate her being. It is completely inconceivable that felicity
could coexist with her inner chatter, her ordinary desires, and her negative
thoughts. Felicity and silence of mind are indissociable, just like liberation
and choice: one does not exist without the other.

By withdrawing tranquilly into herself so as to be able to reflect on

these questions with the necessary seriousness, the seeker may come to
sense, through a subtle intuition that will come to arise silently within her
being, what liberation—a word that is so often evoked, but whose meaning
most aspirants seem not to grasp—might consist in.

A serious seeker must watch over herself with the greatest vigilance,
like a conscientious mother who attentively watches over her child, for fear
that he will do something that may harm him. Indeed, once a bad tendency
installs itself in someone, she becomes its victim and, the more she yields to
its demands, every time it calls for satisfaction, the less she is capable of
thinking about the consequences that has for her being. Thus, this tendency
becomes ever more difficult to extract if she realizes the damage it has
caused within her.

The aspirant must try, with all her seriousness, to liberate herself as
quickly as possible from any undesirable penchant and any undesirable
habit that defile and debase her, before they have had time to take root in
her being—just like someone who does not want to burn to death strips
herself as quickly as possible of clothing that has caught alight. So as to be
able to objectively choose between what constitutes an obstacle and what is
profitable to her spiritual evolution, it is first necessary for her to awaken
and to question her behavior as well as her way of thinking and being in
everyday life.

The more a seeker awakens and rids herself of her unfavorable

tendencies and habits, the more free she becomes within herself and the
more she begins to rise to another plane of being that gives her the
possibility of choosing with more discernment. She will also need to learn
not to be emotionally engaged in what she says, sees, or hears, because a
state of emotional involvement obscures her mind and prevents this
awakening that is so important for her evolution—a particular awakening
that will help her to consider more clearly the problems that she will
encounter in external life and that, as far as possible, will make her difficult
earthly journey easier.

If, by means of certain exercises,[35] the aspirant comes to truly see what
her eyes are looking at and truly hear what her ears are listening to, she will
notice that a strange and silent inner presence and a consciousness of
herself, which is entirely inhabitual to her, will begin to manifest
themselves within her. However, she will discover that she cannot or, rather,
she does not want to maintain this state of consciousness that was hitherto
unknown to her, because this consciousness of herself involves awakening;
well, paradoxically, despite all that she might think, she does not want to
awaken!

Awakening and, above all, remaining awakened demand, at the

beginning, a particular and tenacious effort that one does not like to make.
One prefers to sleep tranquilly within oneself and dream—which demands
no price to be paid—rather than make the efforts necessary to this crucial
awakening. Yet, without this awakening, there can exist no possibility of
objective and real choice for human beings. They will always be
manipulated by the impulses of their profane selves and by external forces,
without being capable of realizing the way in which they are the playthings
of those impulses and forces.

* * *

The question of liberation and choice arises again here. For every man
and every woman engaged in a spiritual practice, all the interrogations that
arise within them on such an important subject must be asked and asked
again, day after day, with a great deal of seriousness and sincerity.

“What is liberation?”

“What does liberation really involve?”

“Does one truly understand what one wishes to be liberated from?”

“Can there be objective and real choice without liberation?”

“Do choice and liberation go together?”

“Can choice precede liberation or is it the reverse?”

The word “liberation” springs so often from the lips of many seekers;
do they truly understand the price to be paid in order to obtain such a
spectacular result?

The aspirant must avoid giving herself formulaic responses to these

questions. It is preferable for her to leave them unanswered until she senses
what is involved for her, personally, in the terms: “liberation and choice.”
Indeed, attachments, psychological problems, and unsatisfied desires vary
and are different in nature from one person to the next.

The specific tendencies against which one seeker must struggle,

sometimes for her whole life, are not necessarily the same as those of
another. Thus, an unwise seeker may bring to these important questions
answers that she believes to be satisfactory, but which, in reality, are only
the projections of her subjective beliefs or mental speculations—which will
prevent her arriving at a knowledge of another order which would have
been able to help her later.

It is necessary to be as prudent and as scrupulous as possible regarding a

domain so delicate that even very advanced seekers cannot approach it
without discernment.

The aspirant must be careful, throughout her quest, not to trust any
intellectual explanation that crosses her mind—and which is often only a
reminiscence of poorly digested reading. She must, on the contrary, strive to
remain available and inwardly silent to leave space for the intuitive insights
that will bring her a non-verbal understanding.

And it is here again that great music plays such an important role in the
life of human beings—as long as they are receptive enough. This is because
there can be, in the music of some great composers, moments of dazzling
mystical ecstasy, that verbal expressions are powerless to describe. As the
words are of secondary importance, the listeners’ minds remain sufficiently
silent for their sentiment to be able to receive what is being communicated
to them. Thus, the risk of a misinterpretation and a betrayal of what is being
transmitted is less. No intellectual formulation can express what is directly
received by the sentiment. One is never moved “in one’s head.” The
intellect can only make comments (most often subjective and erroneous) on
what is seen or heard. Any state of exaltation or ecstasy is felt in the
sentiment and not intellectually.

Intellectual comments are, perhaps without one being conscious of it,

principally based on past experiences—experiences related to what one
wanted and did not want, to what one liked and did not like, to what one felt
or did not feel longing for, as well as countless failures one has suffered,
psychological or other problems one has not been able to resolve, various
problems one has known in one’s life, how one experienced one’s
childhood, etc. Thus the thoughts that arise within oneself, like the words
one says, are inevitably subjective and, consequently, not truthful in relation
to the situation of the moment, which is always new.

Indeed, if someone who is plunged into her state of habitual absence,

repeats word for word a truth belonging to the past—although it may
formerly have been a truth—it has, in the present moment, lost its force; it
has become a sort of lie, sometimes even a dangerous one. For a truth to be
alive, it must be connected to the reality of the moment. If one wants the
truth to be able to find its place in manifest life, human beings themselves
must become true and, for such a thing to be able to occur, it is necessary
for them to begin by awakening and becoming conscious of themselves in a
way that they cannot usually know.
 Thus, whatever the path followed by the aspirant, it must necessarily
include particular concentration exercises (or other means) sufficiently
powerful to help her to awaken.

First she must awaken to be able to become conscious of herself. And

she must become conscious of herself to be able to know the principal
penchants within her that debase her and prevent her from elevating herself
to another plane of being. And it is necessary for her to know what she is,
with her unsatisfied desires, her subjective beliefs, and her attachment to
her ordinary individuality, in order to come to understand more clearly the
aim of her spiritual practice. And understanding the aim of her practice
leads the seeker to consent to make the efforts indispensable to her
transformation. And the transformation of herself may finally lead to her
liberation and the possibility of choice previously mentioned.

The various stages of this work can be summarized as follows:

awakening, becoming conscious of oneself, knowing oneself, understanding
the aim, transformation, and, finally, liberation and choice.

However the main key that can open to an aspirant the door to the
Celestial Palace, where the inestimable treasure of her Supreme Self lies,
consists in becoming conscious of herself.

One can try, now, in the precise instant that one is reading these lines, to
be, with all the seriousness one is capable of, profoundly conscious of
oneself in a totally inhabitual manner and, while striving to maintain this
particular state of consciousness for a few moments, to feel with all one’s
being, what it means to be really present and conscious of oneself.

She who succeeds in recognizing clearly within herself an entirely

unaccustomed state of presence, an intense presence, and a keen
consciousness of herself that has pulled her from her ordinary state of being
and feeling, has gained the most precious thing that can exist in the life of a
human being.
 [1] Translator’s Note: This part of the author’s note refers to the original
French edition of this book. In English, of course, the words aspirant and
seeker have no masculine connotation. In French it is also still standard to
always refer to a generic person using the masculine pronoun “il” (he).
Given the author’s views, as expressed here, the editor and I felt it
appropriate to alternate the use of masculine and feminine pronouns in the
translation. Of course, regardless of whether we have used “he” or “she,”
the advice contained within this book applies to both male and female
readers equally and in all instances.
[2]
A word of my own invention, to avoid offending anyone!
[3] See Chapter 26 of my book The Law of Attention.
[4] See Chapter 7 of my book Obstacles to Enlightenment and
Liberation.
[5]
The Buddha said: “Greater than the massacring of bullocks is the
sacrifice of self. He who offers up his evil desires will see the uselessness of
slaughtering animals at the altar. Blood has no power to cleanse, but the
giving up of harmful actions will make the heart whole.” Digha Nikaya

[6]“Meditative, persevering, ever strenuous in endeavour, the tranquil

ones attain Nirvana, the highest freedom and happiness.” (Dhammapada,
23)
[7] See the five chapters on Nada Yoga in my book The Law of
Attention.

On this subject, it is interesting to note that one of the most important

sutras in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, the Shurangama Sutra, makes
reference to the inner sound as the supreme means of achieving
Awakening.
 [8] See Chapters 10 and 11 on Nada Yoga in my book The Law of
Attention.
[9]
There is a branch of Theravada Buddhism, particularly in Burma, that
uses only corporeal sensation as a means of concentration during
meditation.
[10]Concerning this inner descent, see the last chapter of my book The
Law of Attention.
[11] The Buddha said: “Just as space reaches everywhere, without
discrimination, just so the immaculate element, which in its essential nature
is mind, is present in all.” Visuddhi Maga.
[12]
See the introduction and Chapters 26 and 34 of my book The Law of
Attention, as well as Chapters 8 and 10 of my book Obstacles to
Enlightenment and Liberation.
[13] See Chapter 7 of my book Obstacles to Enlightenment and
Liberation.
[14] See Chapter 23 (Hatha Yoga Part 3) of my book The Law of
Attention.
[15]
Subhuti asked:

“How can the practitioner who wishes to help all beings find
enlightenment awaken to the complete and perfect wisdom?”

The Buddha said:

“This most subtle awakening comes about through moment-to-moment

attentiveness.” Prajnaparamita.
[16] “He who interrupts the course of his spiritual exercises and prayer is
like a man who allows a bird to escape from his hand; he can hardly catch it
again.” John of The Cross
 [17] These six words, as well as the six groups of two syllables that
follow were invented by the author in the past for his own use. He chose
them for their particular timbre, so as to be stimulated while he was
performing this exercise; they have no particular meaning (in French or in
English) and, consequently, do not give rise to any association of ideas. The
fact that these words and groups of syllables resemble one another obliges
the seeker to be all the more vigilant if she does not want to make a
mistake. These same words have also proved useful to the author’s students;
he hopes that they will be equally so for his readers, if they should wish to
put this spiritual work into practice.
[18]
The author practiced Hatha Yoga in India with famous hatha yogis,
but it was a source of disappointment to him; the essential was lacking.
Nowhere did he find that demand for an intense inner presence and a keen
consciousness of himself, which are indispensable to tear oneself away
from what one ordinarily is, so as to be able to enter into contact with
another aspect of oneself, which is beyond time and space.
[19] The Buddha said: “If you want to know the past, to know what has
caused you, look at yourself in the present, for that is the past’s effect. If
you want to know your future, then look at yourself in the present, for that
is the cause of the future.” Majjhima Nikaya
[20] Etymologically, introversion means “towards the interior” and
extroversion “towards the exterior.” There is no question here of seeing the
pejorative sense that some Western psychology trends have given to the
word introversion.
[21]
“The knower and the known are one. Simple people imagine that
they should see God, as if He stood there and they here. This is not so. God
and I, we are one in knowledge.” Meister Eckhart.

[22] See Chapter 26 of my book The Law of Attention.

 [23] See Chapter 19 of my book The Law of Attention.
[24]
In relation to what one is seeking spiritually, extroversion
constitutes a hindrance. It will be noted here that the words introversion and
extroversion are accorded the contrary values to those attributed to them by
Western psychology.
[25] The author knows from personal experience the crucial role of this
introversion and this inner silence in this domain—without forgetting the
intense concentration and self-abnegation that are demanded.
[26] See Chapter 7 of my book The Law of Attention.
[27]
Concerning the domain of musical creation, the author can confirm,
through personal experience, that it is to the extent that the composer is
himself moved and capable of being during his creations that the people
who listen to this music will also be moved and that they will begin to
experience this feeling of being. This is why great music helps the listener
considerably to glimpse another state of being that can be attained.
[28] See Chapter 19 of my book The Law of Attention.
[29] To understand the kinds of inhalations and exhalations to make, see
the third chapter, on Hatha Yoga, of my book The Law of Attention.
[30]
The author has never allowed a day to pass without practicing this
special exercise for half an hour himself—often longer, when his activities
allow him to.
[31] See the chapter consecrated to the question of karma in my book In
the Silence of the Unfathomable.
[32] See Chapter 12 of my book Obstacles to Enlightenment and
Liberation.
[33]
See Chapter 44 of my book The Law of Attention.
 [34] “The fool worries himself thinking—‘Children have I; wealth have
I.’ He himself does not belong to himself. How then children? How then
wealth?” (Dhammapada, 62)
[35]
See Chapter 37 of my book The Law of Attention.