
Fairly soon after beginning a serious study of Theosophy, one will start noticing numerous references in the literature to “killing,” “killing out,” “slaying,” “destroying,” and “crushing out” one’s lower nature, one’s desires, passions, personality, and even one’s senses.
This is particularly prevalent in “The Voice of The Silence,” which H. P. Blavatsky translated from an esoteric Buddhist text known as the Book of The Golden Precepts. It is also prominently found in “Light on The Path,” which HPB stated to have been partly derived from the same Book of The Golden Precepts but inspired by an Adept to Mabel Collins. Such wording is also fairly common in HPB’s own writing.
Some people find such language alarming and disturbing and view it as promoting a “violent,” “self-punitive,” and overly ascetic approach towards one’s natural weaknesses and struggles. Sometimes, though not always, these are people who do not really like the idea of serious efforts towards self-control and self-mastery.
A perhaps smaller amount of people – those who are already particularly imbued from past lives with a stringently ascetic approach to life – like such language so much that they take it all almost entirely literally and, in the process, sometimes inadvertently do themselves harm psychologically, emotionally, and to their health, as well as developing a severe, solemn, rigid, and sometimes harsh way of dealing with both themselves and others, feeling that life and the spiritual path are by nature joyless and stark and that this is how it should be.
We would suggest that the truly Theosophical approach is somewhere in the middle, between these two. We say this because HPB herself makes quite clear in an explanatory note or comment in “The Voice of The Silence” that such phrasing is not meant to be taken entirely literally.
On p. 18-19 (original edition) of that book is a paragraph which refers to the various senses of the human being and which is followed by one which states that at the requisite point on the Path, “all these again have to be killed beyond reanimation.”
But, commenting on that sentence on p. 78-79, she explains: “This means that in the sixth stage of development which, in the occult system is Dharana, every sense as an individual faculty has to be “killed” (or paralyzed) on this plane, passing into and merging with the Seventh sense, the most spiritual.” Notice that here she puts the word “killed” in inverted commas, which linguistically indicates that it does not really, literally mean “killed” but is rather a figure of speech, an expression. Notice also that she then adds in brackets that what this figure of speech is referring to is actually the process of paralysing the influence of something, in this case the ordinary physical senses.
It does not – and, if one stops to think about it, it cannot – mean a literal destruction and obliteration of one’s sense of sight, sense of hearing, sense of smell, taste, or touch. If one succeeded in the latter, one would be rendering oneself incapable of helping and serving humanity but would be making oneself far more helpless and disabled than even some of the most disabled people on the planet.
Likewise, if one were to succeed in literally “killing” one’s personality or personal ego, one would literally be physically committing suicide, since it is not possible to be physically incarnated on this Earth without a personality, in the sense of a personal ego or personal self-consciousness, which is our Lower Manas principle. And, Theosophically speaking, even committing suicide does not destroy one’s personality, for the suicide victim remains stuck in it for a certain period of time on the astral plane.
It should be clear now, not only from these brief arguments but also from HPB’s words quoted above, that to take such language in a truly literal sense can be harmful and hindering, not to mention giving a bad and very unappealing image to Theosophy itself.
But the fact remains that such language is used and so we ought to ask ourselves why that might be.
Perhaps it is partly because (1) it is such graphic language and imagery that it makes an impact on us and stays in our memory, (2) it makes clear that there is undoubtedly an inner fight or battle that must be fought with one’s powerful “desire nature,” if one is to make serious and lasting advances along the spiritual Path, (3) it is suggestive of the fact that in order to successfully make such advances and thus step closer to eventually becoming a selfless and effective server of the human race, an approved chela or disciple of the Masters of Wisdom, and in some future life a Master in one’s own right, one will have to adopt a firm, rigorous, and uncompromising approach to gaining victory over one’s egotistical, selfish, sensual, lustful, or desire-driven nature.
If that sounds too daunting or not at all appealing at present, that is perfectly alright. For many students of Theosophy, it will be enough if in their present life they succeed in making just a few relatively small yet definite advances towards self-discipline and self-control. No-one can be judged or criticised for the level they naturally find themselves at. But there will always be some who are willing as well as ready and capable of going even further in their current incarnation.
Referring again to “The Voice of The Silence,” on its very first page is one of the most memorable statements in all of Theosophical literature:
“The Mind is the great Slayer of the Real.
“Let the Disciple slay the Slayer.”
Of course, the human mind can never and does never literally slay or kill that which is spiritually real and true . . . but it can render the REAL “dead” to us, by distorting our perceptions, dragging us down in consciousness, and obscuring the divine light.
But it’s important to remember that the mind which does this is not the Higher Manas or higher, immortal, divine mind within us (for that is the soul itself, according to Theosophy) but merely its Karmically imperfect offshoot, the Lower Manas, the brain-mind, the psyche, rather than its parent called the Nous.
In a note on p. 92-93 of the same book, HPB refers to “human passions and sins which are slaughtered during the trials of the novitiate, and serve as well-fertilized soil in which “holy germs” or seeds of transcendental virtues may germinate.”
Earlier, we saw how HPB explains “killed” to mean “paralysed.” While that applies in certain contexts to our senses, for example, it is never said or implied that we are to merely paralyse our “passions and sins.” If they were to only be “paralysed,” they would still be there and this would not aid us in any way, for it would serve no constructive or spiritual purpose. One is indeed called upon to conquer and overcome them.
Yet, as the above wording indicates, this still does not literally “destroy” them in an absolute way, for the energy which once animated and propelled them is transmuted and now becomes something extremely useful and productive for real spiritual development. The “law of conservation of energy” of physics was always known to the Initiates and in a far deeper way than to today’s scientists. But the words attributed to Albert Einstein – “Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.” – express this principle very well.
We are talking about inner alchemical transmutation.
Although this process is indeed likened to a battle, we should not picture or approach it as a relentless and ferocious “struggle” or “combat” against the lower, in the sense of beating down an opponent. There is undeniably an element of struggle and combat but the primary method recommended by Theosophy or Esoteric Philosophy for this “warfare” is a calm and detached “cultivation of the opposites.”
In his Yoga Sutras, Patanjali does not say that the way to free oneself of unwanted, unsavoury, or sensual thoughts is to fiercely grapple against them but, instead –
“When the mind is oppressed by perverse thoughts, it must summon and sustain their opposites. Perverse thoughts of a violent and destructive nature, whether enacted, abetted or endorsed, whether induced by avarice, anger or delusion, whether mild, moderately present or intensely indulged, result in endless misery and folly; consequently, their opposites must be nurtured and nourished.” (II:33-34, Raghavan Iyer translation, published by Theosophy Trust)
HPB expresses the same principle beautifully and poetically when saying: “For every flower of love and charity he plants in his neighbour’s garden, a loathsome weed will disappear from his own, and so this garden of the gods – Humanity – shall blossom as a rose.” (“The Key to Theosophy” p. 53)
Let’s now see some helpful comments on these matters from H. P. Blavatsky’s closest and most trusted colleague William Q. Judge:
“The doctrines of Theosophy do not ask for nor lead to the cutting out of the human heart of every human feeling. Indeed, that is an impossibility, one would think, seeing that the feelings are an integral part of the constitution of man, for in the principle call Kama – the desires and feelings – we have the basis of all our emotions, and if it is prematurely cut out of any being death or worse must result. It is very true that theosophy as well as all ethical systems demands that the being who has conscience and will, such as are found in man, shall control this principle of Kama and not be carried away by it nor be under its sway. This is self-control, mastery of the human body, steadiness in the face of affliction, but it is not extirpation of the feelings which one has to control. If any theosophical book deals with this subject it is the Bhagavad Gita, and in that Krishna is constantly engaged in enforcing the doctrine that all the emotions are to be controlled, that one is not to grieve over the inevitable – such as death, nor to be unduly elated at success, nor to be cast down by failure, but to maintain an equal mind in every event, whatever it may be, satisfied and assured that the qualities [i.e. the gunas of Sattva, Rajas, and Tamas, or purity, passion, and inertia] move in the body in their own sphere. In no place does he say that we are to attempt the impossible task of cutting out of the inner man an integral part of himself. . . .
“It seems to be time, then, that no theosophist shall ever be guilty of making pretension to any one that he or she has attained to the high place which now and then some assume to have reached. Much better is it to be conscious of our defects and weaknesses, always ready to acknowledge the truth that, being human, we are not able to always or quickly reach the goal of effort.” (“Hypocrisy or Ignorance”)
Incidentally, although in that passage he referred to the teaching of the Bhagavad Gita that to grieve over the death of a loved one is unnecessary, unhelpful, and not indulged in by the truly wise, the start of that “Hypocrisy or Ignorance” article remarks that any student of Theosophy who “could see his children, wife, or parents die and not feel anything whatever” is “a monster who is incapable of any feeling whatever, selfishness being over-dominant.” Even a fully enlightened Sage feels something upon the death of another, though it is far more likely to be a feeling of profound love and compassion than of grief, sorrow, and sadness.
“The great Buddha referred to two systems for the government of life which he said were each ignoble, and one both ignoble and evil. One is the System of Lust, which is devotion to the enervating pleasures of sense; it was said by him to be vile, vulgar, unsound, ignominious, and productive of evil. Yet it is that which governs the lives of most people in these days.
“The other extreme is the System of Sorrow. It consists of mortification of the flesh and of self torture in order to acquire knowledge and powers. This was extensively practised by Hindu ascetics in Buddha’s time, and is today pursued to some extent. The Indian books are full of stories of the great powers over nature acquired by saints through the practise of austerities. Not ten years ago there died in India a certain Swami – or holy man – who was known as the Swami of Akalkot. He did many wonderful things, and nearly all of them known to young and old in India today. His powers were obtained through the use of the System of Sorrow. In the Bhagavad-Gita this practise is spoken of by Krishna, who declares that it is not the best method, although productive of great results.
“Both of these systems were known practically to Gautama. As the Prince Siddhartha, he was surrounded by his father’s order with every luxury to tempt the senses. There were gardens, flowers, jewels, music, animals, servants, and the most beautiful women. There are so many stories told of the magnificent things collected about him that we must infer for his youth a complete realisation of the System of Lust, or sensation, even if it was of the finer and more noble quality. This at last, pleased him not, and he entered on the practice of the System of Sorrow, which he declared, after he had obtained Nirvana, to be ignoble and unworthy of a true man. This he continued in until he had tried all the varieties. It was then that he decided on the middle path from which comes attainment to truth and Nirvana.
“It is a well-known doctrine in the occult lodges of India that the same result can be obtained in two ways, by one extreme or the other. But in order to reach the end in those ways, great power is required, – more power than men in general possess. The reason is that, from the action of a law which may be roughly called The Law of Tendency, the extreme practice warps the being in such a manner that success is prevented. So, when one follows the System of Sorrow, he will indeed acquire great powers, such as those possessed by Viswamitra, Vasishta, and others, but with the greater number of cases it will all end at last in confusion.
“The System of Lust has the same end and with no exception. For its tendency being downward, an impulse is set up that sends the man lower and lower with no hope of salvation.
“In pursuing the middle course – that of moderation – Buddha did not ignore any department of his nature, for he says, “By five means have I seen these truths, – by the mental eye, by understanding, by wisdom, by science, and by intuition.” Herein he agrees with the teaching of the Bhagavad-Gita, which tells us not to eat too much nor too little, not to oversleep nor to refuse proper sleep. Krishna says further, “Do necessary acts, ever remembering me. Fix your mind on me. Treat every creature as my tabernacle. This is the best devotion. In this path there is no ruggedness, no defeat.”
“The System of Moderation, then, is the best, for it clears the inner eye and strengthens every part of the nature. Theosophists, whether they are Buddhists or not, should remember this. Some are inclined to pursue an extreme course in one direction or another.” (William Judge, “Two Systems – Of Lust and Sorrow”)
Robert Crosbie, a pupil of both HPB and WQJ and who later established the United Lodge of Theosophists, had this to say, in his article “The Origin of Evil,” not to be confused with HPB’s article of the same name:
“When we get the right attitude of mind – and that is what discipleship is – there is not a quality in us, not a force, not an attribute, but can be put to the best and highest use. We do not get off this plane. We do not cut off any part of our being. We do not destroy the usefulness of any part of us, but put all to the proper use and for the proper end. Herein is seen the difference between one who knows and one who does not know. One who knows does not get off to the Christian’s heaven, nor to any other heaven. He works right here where he finds himself and does the best work he can with the instrument he now has, fearing nothing, trusting the Law of his own being. If any being will trust the Law of his own nature, if he will work on with nature by helping all others in every direction possible, then all nature will turn and help him. It never was otherwise. It cannot be otherwise.”
In a little known article by H. P. Blavatsky, titled “The Great Paradox,” she describes very clearly the tremendous heights of self-control, self-discipline, and self-mastery that are required by one who is determined to become a fully accepted chela or disciple of the Mahatmas. This does not mean that one cannot enter upon the path of chelaship until one has attained such mastery, but it does mean that once one is on that path one will have to start making efforts in this regard, even though no-one can be realistically expected to achieve it all at once, nor even necessarily in one lifetime:
“The student . . . finds that his teachers . . . set him, as the first and indispensable task, to conquer and control his body. The student finds that far from being encouraged to live in the soaring thoughts of his brain, and to fancy he has reached that ether where is true freedom – to the forgetting of his body, and his external actions and personality – he is set down to tasks much nearer earth.
“All his attention and watchfulness are required on the outer plane; he must never forget himself, never lose hold over his body, his mind, his brain. He must even learn to control the expression of every feature, to check the action of each muscle, to be master of every slightest involuntary movement. The daily life around and within him is pointed out as the object of his study and observation. Instead of forgetting what are usually called the petty trifles, the little forgetfulness, the accidental slips of tongue or memory, he is forced to become each day more conscious of these lapses, till at last they seem to poison the air he breathes and stifle him, till he seems to lose sight and touch of the great world of freedom towards which he is struggling, till every hour of every day seems full of the bitter taste of self, and his heart grows sick with pain and the struggle of despair. . . .
“His daily and hourly battle is teaching him that self-centredness is the root of misery, the cause of pain, and his soul is full of longing to be free. Thus the disciple is torn by doubt. He trusts his teachers, for he knows that through them speaks the same voice he hears in the silence of his own heart. But now they utter contradictory words; the one, the inner voice, bidding him forget himself utterly in the service of humanity; the other, the spoken word of those from whom he seeks guidance in his service, bidding him first to conquer his body, his outer self. And he knows better with every hour how badly he acquits himself in that battle with the Hydra, and he sees seven heads grow afresh in place of each one that he has lopped off. . . .
“When first he thus succeeds in thus retreating into himself, he seeks there only for refuge from the storm in his heart. And as he struggles to control the gusts of passion and desire, he realises more fully what mighty powers he has vowed himself to conquer. He still feels himself, apart from the silence, nearer akin to the forces of the storm. How can his puny strength cope with these tyrants of animal nature? . . .
“While a man clings to his outer self – aye, and even to any one of the forms he assumes when this “mortal coil” is cast aside – so long is he trying to blow aside a hurricane with the breath of his lungs. It is useless and idle such an endeavour; for the great winds of life must, sooner or later, sweep him away. But if he changes his altitude in himself,if he acts on the faith that his body, his desires, his passions, his brain, are not himself, though he has charge of them, and is responsible for them; if he tries to deal with them as parts of nature, then he may hope to become one with the great tides of being, and reach the peaceful place of safe self-forgetfulness at last.”
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This article may have raised more questions about various things. Please make use of the site search function (the magnifying glass symbol at the top of the page) and visit the Articles page to see the complete list of over 300 articles covering all aspects of Theosophy and the Theosophical Movement. Some articles closely related to this one include The Raja Yoga of Theosophy, Living Consciously, The Daily Initiation, Willpower and The Spiritual Will, Through The Gates of Gold, Chelas and Chelaship, Helpful Hints for Spiritual Progress, and “The Voice of The Silence” – An Authentic Buddhist Text.
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“Remember that life is the outcome of the Ever-Living. If you have come to comprehend a little of the mystery of life, and can value its attractions according to their worth, there are no reasons why you should walk forth with solemn countenance to blight the enjoyments of other men. Life to them is as real as the mystery is to you. Their time will come as yours has, so hasten it for them, if you can, by making life brighter, more joyous, better.”
(William Q. Judge, “Musings On The True Theosophist’s Path”)
