I need to say a few words about the work of Bernadette Roberts here, which I have mentioned only in passing. Roberts is someone who slowly moved through the unitive experience of the sacred -- what I have called counter-tradition (1) -- to the state of mind I am talking about. In CT no. 1, we discover a new self, which functions as a divine center. But, eventually, there is a movement to a life without a self, divine or otherwise, in which we can recognize the "experience of God" as a useful stepping-stone, but finally empty. This movement Roberts calls a "quiet explosion." "I quit wandering around looking for life," she writes; "--obviously it's everywhere, we're in it; it's all there is." The Jungian cultivation of a Higher Self finally reveals itself as a defense against having to live a life without God. This is the "false expectation that some ultimate reality lies hidden somewhere behind, beneath, or beyond what is." Hence the error of the transcendent or transpersonal search for "the ground of Being," when we cannot grasp that Being requires no ground. "How many," she writes,
can honestly appreciate the triumph of being common and ordinary? Who can understand what it means to learn that the ultimate reality is not a passing moment of bliss, not a fleeting vision or transfiguration, not some ineffable, extraordinary experience or phenomenon, but instead...as simple as a smile?
Clinging to God, she says, "may be a great mistrust and the ultimate expression of disbelief."
Some of this may sound like Buddhism, in particular the satori experience of Zen practice; but in fact, satori is the falling away of ego or ego perspective, not the falling away of a divine, mythic, transpersonal center. According to Roberts, however, there is one reference in the Buddhist literature (in the Dhammapada) to the perception she is talking about, a brief commentary made by Buddha on his own experience. In this discussion, Buddha compares the self to a house and says that the ridgepole collapsed, taking the house with it. Roberts takes "ridgepole" to be a metaphor for the divine center, not the ego center, for Buddha says:
House-builder! I behold thee now,
Again a house thou shalt not build.
"Again" implies that the house had fallen down before and been re-built around a new center, the divine one. This is the shift from the dominant tradition I spoke of to CT no. 1, from ego/intellect to "cosmic consciousness," or Gnostic/mythic insight. But when this latter collapses, she says, there is nothing left with which to rebuild the house. This is CT no. 3, the experience of paradox (at least for moderns): what we know as Truth falls away, and we make no attempt to reconstruct the temple.
Some time ago I received a letter from a friend describing what the experience was like for her. "Passion," she wrote,
perhaps, is a prelude to something els, some "new life," some otherwise, not yet experienced kind of existence. passion is so easy to understand, to be involved in, to feel alive with. It is so acceptable as proof of right living. Feeling, being passionate, says "I am alive" (as we know it), a kind of pat on the back, the best evidence that we exist. However, I'm beginning to perceive that at some point passion gives way to something akin to a tremendous letting go, a "going nowhere" ...I see passion as a "self" involvement ...[Absence of it] is no longer to me an indication of lack, quite the contrary, it indicates something very mysterious.
Another way -- perhaps -- of describing Bernadette Roberts' journey and the evolution to paradox is something like this: for many years of one's life, especially in youth, one is identified with ego and that ego has a particular goal: I will do this or that," which is the process of going from A to B. "A" here is not good enough; "B" is "arrival." One does this for many years and may or may not arrive at B, or perhaps get there some of the time. But there comes a point when the whole structure of going from A to B finally seems like a drag. It is tedious; it is not worth it, one doesn't want to live like that any more.
Then begins a process, perhaps, of spiritual work, often identified with counter-tradition (1) [it should be noted that the majority of the population never begin this work; they simple stay with the tradition that came with birth into a Protestant, Catholic, etc. family], when one's consciousness has changed and one seems to be on a larger path, a path of great energy. One does this for years, and there are various results, many of them positive; but one finally sees that the structure is the same as before: I am at A (which is unworthy), but with enough effort, I shall arrive at B (which will be worthy). This too now seems to be tedious, predictable.
Slowly, one begins to float; one has not direction because one has stopped believing in "direction." The ego now seems largely irrelevant; it feels like a lump of yolk in an omelette, as it were. You don't really know where you are going, but you do have the feeling that the "omelette" will take care of that; it will take you wherever you are supposed to go -- or nowhere, as he case may be. And then one day you realize that regardless of where it takes you, the state of mind that is letting the "omelette" do the work is paradoxically the place at which you were trying to arrive all along. So at the same time that you don't know where you are going -- you're there.
... For what this [Hunter Gatherer] legacy enables us to do, if we wish to do it, is to see through religion and leave it behind; not on the basis of a simple return to atheism (for those that had left it), but on the basis of an understanding that religion, "God." and vertical spirituality are the "fall from grace," grace being "nothing more" than the experience of paradox. What a different type of world that would be! [p.232-234]
Indeed.
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