On Death

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Being an aspect of our work, we have to say something about the death of the body. A proper thought of such an experience is as valuable as the thought of pranayama and asana; but how wrong the concept of life itself is, because we do not pursue it consciously, but furiously, automatically, as if somebody told us to, like waking up in the morning for an appointment that we hate from the bottom of our soul. This seems to be the last standing general of Binah’s defense, but it can also be his traitor, for those who know how to put things right. For a Neophyte, the experience of near-death is not such a distant notion, and there are many records and cases of rather brilliant coincidences where Neophytes have had a close encounter with the great adventure of death; such an event leads to awakening of an individual to such an extent that it leaves a mark on all following Grades. One might say that it was part of the plan of the great architect who triggered by such an act all that the Aspirant experienced later, or it made him quit, though.

It is difficult to discern what is the cause and what is the consequence in this great sea of chaos, whether there is such a thing as giving up at all, or is it all just another way of naming the same thing: “love” – in a million different languages and dialects of the Universe. Death, the body, and the immune system are just chapters of one book called Life, and living that life is up to us solely, whether living with others or living with ourselves – it has always been one and the same life. The one we have and the one we do not have is always the same life in the same way. The philosophical discussion of Life and Living is the relationship between the Neophyte and the Zelator, but it is certain that practical results of all these conclusions must be found in work related to the Grade; they will thus form the basis upon which the Zelator will establish himself, and embark on his work on Asana and Pranayama. Thinking about life and death is always thinking about life; thinking about death is all too often a distraction aiming at not thinking about it, and as long as we have a sadness transfer when our loved ones leave, it is always about us. And if we pay attention to the atmosphere of death coming to our neighborhood or our home, we will always have an opportunity to encounter the highest form of consciousness that lies hidden there. But how disguised and cunning is Binah on that magnificent occasion; just as one obtains an object of meditation that can elevate the mind to unprecedented heights – usually death is not talked about in a grieving house, but rather some completely irrelevant things, diverting skillfully from the subject where the same Binah might see his own defeat. For the dungeon and the cover of Binah is the cradle of the star soul at the same time. This is all part of nature’s play, but we are certainly free to think about all the possibilities and the exploitation of every moment of life – even when it physically ceases. Both sadness and fear are manifestations of Binah, each in its own way and ideally manifested in its own time – just as much as we would have missed an ideal moment of knowing. Both of these things are just a form of his royal majesty – neurosis, but we are free to welcome it with a sign of welcome and joy. Because in that fear and in that pain, even anger, we see just one way in which the child within, in an utterly non-verbal, awkward and illogical way, always says the same thing to all the eons together – “I love you.” When a person is born to this world, everyone around him smiles, only he is crying. And when a person dies, everyone cries; only he is smiling. A Neophyte must not be brave in this, nor timid, angry, nor even calm. He must dissect all the experiences and observations of this outstanding venture, repeatedly returning as a boomerang thought to himself and about himself. It is all about oneself, because all of this hides whispering and teasing of the one who projects all these events and happenings, clumsily, continually having a dialogue with our dormant attention that does not respond to him – the Angel.

Frater 273

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