Saturday, February 23, 2019

One Rule to Live By: Be Good, Chapter 38: My Mandala, My Mandate


CHAPTER 38

My Mandala, My Mandate

“Each life has a natural built-in reason for being. Purpose
is the creative spirit of life moving through you from the inside out.
It is the deep mysterious dimension in each soul, which carries
with it a profound sense of personal identity.”

THE KEYS OF JESHUA
—Glenda Green

            I went to university to study philosophy to find an answer to the question that compelled me to go on a quest for my true self, who am I? And in my second year of studies I began to feel myself cast adrift in a sea of endless philosophical speculation, and I feared drowning; that’s when my oracle came to my assistance and serendipity introduced me to Gurdjieff’s teaching through Ouspensky’s book In Search of the Miraculous; that’s what engendered the miraculous experience of “my mandala, my mandate,” which I echoed in a spiritual musing that I wrote last year for my third volume of spiritual musings, The Armchair Guru:
           
The Hedgehog Knows One Big Thing

Just for fun and out of intellectual curiosity, the renowned Oxford philosopher Isaiah Berlin wrote an essay inspired by one line attributed to the ancient Greek poet Archilochus who died in 645 BC: “The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.”
Isaiah’s essay, published in book form as The Hedgehog and the Fox, is both enlightening and entertaining; and just for the fun of it also, I’d like to explore his application of the hedgehog/fox metaphor to my own writing in today’s spiritual musing…

I hadn’t heard of Isaiah Berlin’s book The Hedgehog and the Fox until a month or so ago when Colin Wilson (whose precocious book The Outsider influenced me in my youth) referred to it in his talk with Jeffrey Mishlove on his program Thinking Allowed, and I knew immediately what Colin Wilson meant when he said that he belonged to the category of hedgehog writers, because that’s how I saw myself also.
“I’ve written the same book seventy times over,” said Colin Wilson; which put him squarely in the hedgehog camp of writers, because according to Isaiah Berlin hedgehog writers focus on one all-embracing idea for understanding life. They possess “…a central vision, one system less or more coherent or articulate, in terms of which they understand, think and feel—a single, universal, organizing principle.” And for Colin Wilson that one all-consuming central preoccupation was, in Jeffery Mishlove’s words, “reconciling this issue of the heights of consciousness and the depths of despair.”
Berlin made no huge claims for his hedgehog/fox metaphor, calling it a “starting-point for genuine investigation,” with the added benefit of being an “enjoyable intellectual game” by which one could classify writers and thinkers into either camp, as he did by placing Plato, Dante, Pascal, Proust, Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Ibsen, and many other classical writers into the hedgehog camp; and Aristotle, Shakespeare, Montaigne, Goethe, and Joyce among others in the fox camp of writers and thinkers, but focusing his attention mainly upon Tolstoy.
According to Berlin’s application of the metaphor, fox writers pursue many ends, often unrelated, “seizing upon the essence of a vast variety of experience and objects for what they are in themselves, without, consciously or unconsciously, seeking to fit into, or exclude them from, any one unchanging, all-embracing…unitary vision.”
In short, Berlin defined a hedgehog writer as someone who relates everything to a single vision, an organizing principle that seems to cover all of history, or a single dynamic of polar opposites like Colin Wilson’s lifelong study of the depths and heights of human consciousness; and a fox writer, on the other hand pursues many ideas, not necessarily related, and often contradictory, like the great Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy.
Two camps, two types of writers; and according to this hedgehog/fox classification, I’m definitely a hedgehog writer because I have pursued one central idea my whole life; an unrelenting idée fixe which can be summed up by the simple question, who am I?
This became my organizing principle, and everything I did in my life was colored by my efforts to find the answer to this haunting question. I didn’t talk about it openly, because that would have been a foolish thing to do, unless one was Shirley MacLaine who confessed in her memoir I’m Over all That, “no matter where I went I was always looking for myself” and always brought it up in interviews to expand the paradigm of conventional wisdom; but whether one talks about it or not, everyone will one day ask, who am I?

There were many things in my life that I longed for, and many avenues that I wanted to explore; but because of my hedgehog preoccupation, I focused my attention on what I felt would help me answer my haunting question. So, I was fox-like by inclination, because of my many interests; but I was a hedgehog by inner imperative, because I had to find my true self.
This caused me considerable anxiety, because I couldn’t have it both ways; until I made a commitment one day and vowed to find my true self or die trying. And the more I focused on my idée fixe, the more laser-like attention I brought to my quest; which confirmed Isaiah Berlin’s hedgehog/fox metaphor, because the hedgehog writer would be better disposed to a deeper insight into his preoccupying single interest than the fox writer who has many interests, because the hedgehog writer is by instinct a centripetal thinker (tending to move toward a center), and the fox writer is a centrifugal thinker (tending to move away from a center); but whether hedgehog or fox, both types play out life’s drama of becoming who they are according to their own nature, thereby fulfilling their essential purpose in life.
Of course, this presupposes that life has an essential purpose; but it was because of my hedgehog conviction that I managed to answer the question who am I? which granted me an insight into life’s essential purpose of realizing our true self, as I expounded upon in my most intimate memoir The Pearl of Great Price that tells the story of how I found the greatest treasure in the world, my true self.
 But this is a personal realization, and I don’t expect the world to see it; because, as Gurdjieff used to say, “There is only self-initiation into the mysteries of life,” and the only way to confirm that our purpose in life is to become our true self would be to initiate oneself into the sacred mystery of life`s purpose. This is what the ancient alchemists meant when they said, “Man must complete what nature has left unfinished.”
I’m glad I was born to be a hedgehog writer, then; because it disposed me to devote my life to finding my true self and write about my journey, and as many regrets as I may have for not satisfying the longings of my many interests (I would have loved to become a Jungian analyst specializing in past-life regression therapy), I’ve accomplished what I came into this world to do; and I couldn’t have asked for more.

———

          I went to university then because I was driven by an inner imperative that I had no control over. I could have gone any which way, to be sure; but I vowed to find my true self or die trying, and I felt impelled to study philosophy for an answer to my haunting question.
But by the middle of my second year of studies I began to have an uneasy feeling that philosophy was not the path for me, and panic began to set in. That’s when for no apparent reason I asked a fellow student who was going home to Toronto for Christmas to bring me back a book of his own choosing from his favorite little book store, and he brought me Ouspensky’s book In Search of the Miraculous that cracked open the door to the secret way that was to change my life forever; but why did I ask him to bring me a book of his own choosing? What kind of strange request was this?
Upon reflection these many years later, I can see there was always a kind of reckless abandon about me, which was both adventurous and foolish; and in my request of my fellow student, I abandoned to this adventurous/foolish spirit in me, which no doubt was the inspiration for my “letting go and letting God” experiment that became the premise of my novel The Golden Seed many years later; but as attracted as I was to Gurdjieff’s teaching of “work one oneself” that Ouspensky had introduced me to, I could not quite “get” it.
Gurdjieff fascinated me, mystified me, provoked me, and terrified me all at the same time; but I had the strongest feeling that his teaching (made even more alluring by him also calling it “the way of the sly man”) was what I had gone to university for, and it got under my skin; that’s when panic really set in, and I didn’t know what to do.
Should I continue my philosophy studies and get a degree, or leave and find another path? What the hell was I to do? I had no idea whatsoever, and terror possessed me. And that’s when it happened, the miracle of my mandala experience

There’s an old Zen Buddhist saying: “Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.” Professor Jordan Peterson, whose own obsession to find an answer for “the general social and political insanity and evil of the world” also made him a hedgehog writer, brought his Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief as far as the logic of his inquisitive mind could take him; not quite to the enlightened stage of passing through the eye of the needle, but to thematic resolution in his book’s Conclusion: The Divinity of Interest, with a quotation from his guiding light C. G. Jung, which explains why he was called by the oracle of life to become a prophet and reformer with the message of his global bestseller 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos:

“The central ideas of Christianity are rooted in Gnostic philosophy, which, in accordance with psychological laws, simply had to grow up at a time when the classical religions had become obsolete. It was founded on the perception of symbols thrown up by the unconscious individuation process which always sets in when the collective dominants of human life fall into decay. At such a time there is bound to be a considerable number of individuals who are possessed by archetypes of a numinous nature that force their way to the surface in order to form new dominants.
“This state of possession shows itself almost without exception in the fact that the possessed identify themselves with the archetypal contents of their unconscious, and, because they do not realize that the role which is being thrust upon them is the effect of new contents still to be understood, they exemplify these concretely in their own lives, thus becoming prophets and reformers” (Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief, Jordan B. Peterson, p. 456, bold italics mine).

Professor Jordan Peterson became possessed by the archetypal imperative of his own “crucifix symbol”  that manifested to him in his prophetic cathedral dream one night while working on his book Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief, which mandated him to resolve his dilemma by placing him in the center of Being; and that’s exactly what happened to me when the unconscious process of individuation thrust upon me an archetypal symbol in the “squaring of the circle” mandala that I consciously experienced one night in the darkness of my bedroom in the house that three male friends and I rented in my second year at Lakehead University in Thunder Bay, Ontario.
The mandala symbol that the unconscious process of individuation manifested before my eyes possessed me with all the daemonic imperative of the archetypal hero whose sole purpose was to unite the opposites of my dual nature, and as Carl Jung said, I had no idea of the role that was being thrust upon me (neither did Jordan Peterson, who was called by his own unconscious imperative to answer his own haunting question); and although I did not know it then, my unconscious had just made up my mind for me: I was “destined” by the symbolic imperative my own unconscious need for wholeness and completeness to drop out of university and forge a new path for myself with Gurdjieff’s teaching, which is why I came to call this miraculous experience “my mandala, my mandate.”
I was mandated by the archetypal hero’s spirit to unite the opposites of my dual nature, but I had no cognitive awareness of my own dual nature until I began “working” on myself with Gurdjieff’s teaching, which I did not “get” yet; and that’s the irony of the hero’s journey—they do not know the way until they find the way. And that was my quandary.
I began to sense that philosophy was not the path for me, and my creative unconscious confirmed this with the spontaneous manifestation of the “squaring of the circle” mandala that appeared before my eyes that memorable night when out of sheer frustration with Gurdjieff’s teaching I angrily threw Ouspensky’s book In Search of the Miraculous down on my desk and sat back in my chair and pouted in deep despair.
Try as I may, I just did not “get” the gist of Gurdjieff’s teaching despite how much it “spoke” to me, and it “spoke” to me so loud and clear that it got under my skin—another  immortal wound that set my soul on fire with a pathological wonder that possessed me to read everything that I could get on Gurdjieff and his teaching when I finally summoned the courage to drop out of university in the second semester of my third year and forge a path for myself in the wooded forest of my life with his transformative system of “work” on oneself with conscious effort and intentional suffering, which awakened me to the simple truth that to find the way one has to live it…

So, there I was then, in my second year of studies when the omniscient guiding principle of life came to my assistance to set me free from a path that had served its purpose in my serendipitous discovery of the secret way in Gurdjieff’s teaching, and it was only a matter of time before I made the conscious decision to walk away from university.
Philosophy was pulling me out into a sea of endless mentation that I feared would not promise me an answer to my haunting question, and my creative unconscious offered me the solution to my problem of resolving my dual nature in the symbolic squaring of the circle, which was the only way I would ever answer the question that had called me to university in the first place, who am I?
            I shut off the lights in my bedroom and flopped my body onto the bed and put my hands behind my head and stared into the darkness wallowing in my despair. I was so mad I did not know whether to scream or cry. I stared and stared, thinking and despairing; and the more I thought about my dilemma, the more I despaired. Philosophy was not giving me the answer, and Gurdjieff’s teaching puzzled me; I saw no light whatsoever, and I despaired.

And then it happened: A tiny dot of blue light appeared before my eyes at the foot of my bed, just above eye level, and it rested there suspended in mid-air long enough for me to rub my eyes to see if it was real. I shut my eyes and opened them again, and it was still there; and then the tiny dot of blue light began to expand and grow into the shape of circle until it was about three feet in diameter, and it sat in mid-air like a donut of shimmering blue light. Dumbfounded, I just stared; and then a tiny dot of yellow light appeared within and at the top of the circumference of the blue circle, and it also expanded and grew, forming a perfectly straight line of bright yellow light within the circumference, and then it stopped, made a ninety degree turn, and formed another straight line, stopped again and made another ninety-degree turn and formed another straight line, and another, joining with itself to form a perfect square of bright yellow light within the circumference of shimmering blue light—which, though I did not know it then, was a symbolic squaring of the circle. Nonplussed, I just stared at the circle of bright blue light with a square of bright yellow light within its circumference; and then, just as miraculously as it had appeared, it disappeared, and my bedroom was in darkness again…

It took many years to make sense of this miraculous experience, and had I not been called to read and study C. G. Jung and his Gnostic-inspired psychology of individuation, I would never have come to understand the meaning of my mandala experience; but I had to “work” on myself long and hard day and night to resolve the opposites of my dual nature—what Jesus called making the two into one—before the puzzle of my life finally fell into place for me.
To square the circle, one has to do the impossible, and the task that I had set for myself in my quest for my true self was not possible within the paradigm of my philosophy studies; but I did not know this cognitively. I sensed that philosophy wasn’t the path for me, but I didn’t know what to do about it, and deep anxiety possessed me. Please God, tell me what to do, I pleaded silently.
Then divine serendipity kicked in with Ouspensky’s book In Search of the Miraculous, and the door to the secret way cracked open for me; but I had to drop out of university to forge my own path in life by “working” on myself with Gurdjieff’s teaching, and my despair of not knowing what to do forced my unconscious to resolve my problem by manifesting the symbol of “squaring the circle” of blue and yellow light before my eyes, the mandala of the “impossible” quest for my true self—hence, “my mandala, my mandate,”  the unconscious imperative of my individual way.
When the mandala symbolizing my successful quest for my true self literally manifested before my eyes that night, I didn’t know what  it meant; but after I did the impossible and “worked” my way through the eye of the needle and gave “birth” to my true self, I understood that I had unconsciously mandated myself to find my true self (I did, after all, vow to find my true self or die trying), hence the symbolic squaring of the circle that my unconscious manifested in my bedroom when I did not know what to do to find my true self; and in my enlightened perspective today, I’m right back to where I started, “chopping wood and carrying water...”







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