The Edinburgh Lectures on Mental Science - Thomas Troward
The question then arises, how can the healer substitute his own conscious
mind for that of the patient? and the answer shows the practical
application of those very abstract principles which I have laid down in the
earlier sections. Our ordinary conception of ourselves is that of an
individual personality which ends where another personality begins, in
other words that the two personalities are entirely separate. This is an
error. There is no such hard and fast line of demarcation between
personalities, and the boundaries between one and another can be increased
or reduced in rigidity according to will, in fact they may be temporarily
removed so completely that, for the time being, the two personalities
become merged into one. Now the action which takes place between healer and
patient depends on this principle. The patient is asked by the healer to
put himself in a receptive mental attitude, which means that he is to
exercise his volition for the purpose of removing the barrier of his own
objective personality and thus affording entrance to the mental power of
the healer. On his side also the healer does the same thing, only with this
difference, that while the patient withdraws the barrier on his side with
the intention of admitting a flowing-in, the healer does so with the
intention of allowing a flowing-out: and thus by the joint action of the
two minds the barriers of both personalities are removed and the direction
of the flow of volition is determined, that is to say, it flows from the
healer as actively willing to give, towards the patient as passively
willing to receive, according to the universal law of Nature that the flow
must always be from the _plenum_ to the _vacuum_. This mutual removal of
the external mental barrier between healer and patient is what is termed
establishing a _rapport_ between them, and here we find one most valuable
practical application of the principle laid down earlier in this book, that
pure spirit is present in its entirety at every point simultaneously. It is
for this reason that as soon as the healer realizes that the barriers of
external personality between himself and his patient have been removed, he
can then speak to the sub-conscious mind of the patient as though it were
his own, for both being pure spirit the _thought_ of their identity _makes_
them identical, and both are concentrated into a single entity at a single
point upon which the conscious mind of the healer can be brought to bear,
according to the universal principle of the control of the subjective mind
by the objective mind through suggestion. It is for this reason I have
insisted on the distinction between _pure_ spirit, or spirit conceived of
apart from extension in any matrix and the conception of it as so extended.
If we concentrate our mind upon the diseased condition of the patient we
are thinking of him as a separate personality, and are not fixing our mind
upon that conception of him as pure spirit which will afford us effectual
entry to his springs of being. We must therefore withdraw our thought from
the contemplation of symptoms, and indeed from his corporeal personality
altogether, and must think of him as a purely spiritual individuality, and
as such entirely free from subjection to any conditions, and consequently
as voluntarily externalizing the conditions most expressive of the vitality
and intelligence which pure spirit is. Thinking of him thus, we then make
mental affirmation that he shall build up outwardly the correspondence of
that perfect vitality which he knows himself to be inwardly; and this
suggestion being impressed by the healer's conscious thought, while the
patient's conscious thought is at the same time impressing the fact that he
is receiving the active thought of the healer, the result is that the
patient's sub-conscious mind becomes thoroughly imbued with the recognition
of its own life-giving power, and according to the recognized law of
subjective mentality proceeds to work out this suggestion into external
manifestation, and thus health is substituted for sickness.
It must be understood that the purpose of the process here described is to
strengthen the subject's individuality, not to dominate it. To use it for
domination is _inversion_, bringing its appropriate penalty to the
operator.
In this description I have contemplated the case where the patient is
consciously co-operating with the healer, and it is in order to obtain this
co-operation that the mental healer usually makes a point of instructing
the patient in the broad principles of Mental Science, if he is not already
acquainted with them. But this is not always advisable or possible.
Sometimes the statement of principles opposed to existing prejudices
arouses opposition, and any active antagonism on the patient's part must
tend to intensify the barrier of conscious personality which it is the
healer's first object to remove. In these cases nothing is so effective as
_absent treatment_. If the student has grasped all that has been said on
the subject of spirit and matter, he will see that in mental treatment time
and space count for nothing, because the whole action takes place on a
plane where these conditions do not obtain; and it is therefore quite
immaterial whether the patient be in the immediate presence of the healer
or in a distant country. Under these circumstances it is found by
experience that one of the most effectual modes of mental healing is by
treatment during sleep, because then the patient's whole system is
naturally in a state of relaxation which prevents him offering any
conscious opposition to the treatment. And by the same rule the healer also
is able to treat even more effectively during his own sleep than while
waking. Before going to sleep he firmly impresses on his subjective mind
that it is to convey curative suggestion to the subjective mind of the
patient, and then, by the general principles of the relation between
subjective and objective mind this suggestion is carried out during all the
hours that the conscious individuality is wrapped in repose. This method is
applicable to young children to whom the principles of the science cannot
be explained; and also to persons at a distance: and indeed the only
advantage gained by the personal meeting of the patient and healer is in
the instruction that can be orally given, or when the patient is at that
early stage of knowledge where the healer's visible presence conveys the
suggestion that something is then being done which could not be done in his
absence; otherwise the presence or absence of the patient are matters
perfectly indifferent. The student must always recollect that the sub-
conscious mind does not have to work _through_ the intellect or conscious
mind to produce its curative effects. It is part of the all-pervading
creative force of Nature, while the intellect is not creative but
distributive.
From mental healing it is but a step to telepathy, clairvoyance and other,
kindred manifestations of transcendental power which, are from time to time
exhibited by the subjective entity and which follow laws as accurate as
those which govern what we are accustomed to consider our more normal
faculties; but these subjects do not properly fall within the scope of a
book whose purpose is to lay down the broad principles which underlie _all_
spiritual phenomena. Until these are clearly understood the student cannot
profitably attempt the detailed study of the more interior powers; for to
do so without a firm foundation of knowledge and some experience in its
practical application would only be to expose himself to unknown dangers,
and would be contrary to the scientific principle that the advance into the
unknown can only be made from the standpoint of the known, otherwise we
only come into a confused region of guess-work without any clearly defined
principles for our guidance.
XII.
THE WILL.
The Will is of such primary importance that the student should be on his
guard against any mistake as to the position which it holds in the mental
economy. Many writers and teachers insist on will-power as though that were
the creative faculty. No doubt intense will-power can evolve certain
external results, but like all other methods of compulsion it lacks the
permanency of natural growth. The appearances, forms, and conditions
produced by mere intensity of will-power will only hang together so long as
the compelling force continues; but let it be exhausted or withdrawn, and
the elements thus forced into unnatural combination will at once fly back
to their proper affinities; the form created by compulsion never had the
germ of vitality _in itself_ and is therefore dissipated as soon as the
external energy which supported it is withdrawn. The mistake is in
attributing the creative power to the will, or perhaps I should say in
attributing the creative power to ourselves at all. The truth is that man
never creates anything. His function is, not to create, but to combine and
distribute that which is already in being, and what we call our creations
are new combinations of already existing material, whether mental or
corporeal. This is amply demonstrated in the physical sciences. No one
speaks of creating energy, but only of transforming one form of energy into
another; and if we realize this as a universal principle, we shall see that
on the mental plane as well as on the physical we never create energy but
only provide the conditions by which the energy already existing in one
mode can exhibit itself in another: therefore what, relatively to man, we
call his creative power, is that receptive attitude of expectancy which, so
to say, makes a mould into which the plastic and as yet undifferentiated
substance can flow and take the desired form. The will has much the same
place in our mental machinery that the tool-holder has in a power-lathe: it
is not the power, but it keeps the mental faculties in that position
relatively to the power which enables it to do the desired work. If, using
the word in its widest sense, we may say that the imagination is the
creative function, we may call the will the centralizing principle. Its
function is to keep the imagination centred in the right direction. We are
aiming at consciously controlling our mental powers instead of letting them
hurry us hither and thither in a purposeless manner, and we must therefore
understand the relation of these powers to each other for the production of
external results. First the whole train of causation is started by some
emotion which gives rise to a desire; next the judgment determines whether
we shall externalize this desire or not; then the desire having been
approved by the judgment, the will comes forward and directs the
imagination to form the necessary spiritual prototype; and the imagination
thus centred on a particular object creates the spiritual nucleus, which in
its turn acts as a centre round which the forces of attraction begin to
work, and continue to operate until, by the law of growth, the concrete
result becomes perceptible to our external senses.
The business of the will, then, is to retain the various faculties of our
mind in that position where they are really doing the work we wish, and
this position may be generalized into the three following attitudes; either
we wish to act upon something, or be acted on by it, or to maintain a
neutral position; in other words we either intend to project a force, or
receive a force or keep a position of inactivity relatively to some
particular object. Now the judgment determines which of these three
positions we shall take up, the consciously active, the consciously
receptive, or the consciously neutral; and then the function of the will is
simply to maintain the position we have determined upon; and if we maintain
any given mental attitude we may reckon with all certainty on the law of
attraction drawing us to those correspondences which exteriorly symbolize
the attitude in question. This is very different from the semi-animal
screwing-up of the nervous forces which, with some people, stands for
will-power. It implies no strain on the nervous system and is consequently
not followed by any sense of exhaustion. The will-power, when transferred
from the region of the lower mentality to the spiritual plane, becomes
simply a calm and peaceful determination to retain a certain mental
attitude in spite of all temptations to the contrary, knowing that by doing
so the desired result will certainly appear.
The training of the will and its transference from the lower to the higher
plane of our nature are among the first objects of Mental Science. The man
is summed up in his will. Whatever he does by his own will is his own act;
whatever he does without the consent of his will is not his own act but
that of the power by which his will was coerced; but we must recognize
that, on the mental plane, no other individuality can obtain control over
our will unless we first allow it to do so; and it is for this reason that
all legitimate use of Mental Science is towards the strengthening of the
will, whether in ourselves or others, and bringing it under the control of
an enlightened reason. When the will realizes its power to deal with first
cause it is no longer necessary for the operator to state to himself _in
extenso_ all the philosophy of its action every time he wishes to use it,
but, knowing that the trained will is a tremendous spiritual force acting
on the plane of first cause, he simply expresses his desire with the
intention of operating on that plane, and knows that the desire thus
expressed will in due time externalize itself as concrete fact. He now sees
that the point which really demands his earnest attention is not whether he
possesses the power of externalizing any results he chooses, but of
learning to choose wisely what results to produce. For let us not suppose
that even the highest powers will take us out of the law of cause and
effect. We can never set any cause in motion without calling forth those
effects which it already contains in embryo and which will again become
causes in their turn, thus producing a series which must continue to flow
on until it is cut short by bringing into operation a cause of an opposite
character to the one which originated it. Thus we shall find the field for
the exercise of our intelligence continually expanding with the expansion
of our powers; for, granted a good intention, we shall always wish to
contemplate the results of our action as far as our intelligence will
permit. We may not be able to see very far, but there is one safe general
principle to be gained from what has already been said about causes and
conditions, which is that the whole sequence always partakes of the same
character as the initial cause: if that character is negative, that is,
destitute of any desire to externalize kindness, cheerfulness, strength,
beauty or some other sort of good, this negative quality will make itself
felt all down the line; but if the opposite affirmative character is in the
original motive, then it will reproduce its kind in forms of love, joy,
strength and beauty with unerring precision. Before setting out, therefore,
to produce new conditions by the exercise of our thought-power we should
weigh carefully what further results they are likely to lead to; and here,
again, we shall find an ample field for the training of our will, in
learning to acquire that self-control which will enable us to postpone an
inferior present satisfaction to a greater prospective good.
These considerations naturally lead us to the subject of concentration. I
have just now pointed out that all duly controlled mental action consists
in holding the mind in one of three attitudes; but there is a fourth mental
condition, which is that of letting our mental functions run on without our
will directing them to any definite purpose. It is on this word _purpose_
that we must fix our whole attention; and instead of dissipating our
energies, we must follow an intelligent method of concentration. The, word
means being gathered up at a centre, and the centre of anything is that
point in which all its forces are equally balanced. To concentrate
therefore means first to bring our minds into a condition of equilibrium
which will enable us to consciously direct the flow of spirit to a
definitely recognized purpose, and then carefully to guard our thoughts
from inducing a flow in the opposite direction. We must always bear in mind
that we are dealing with a wonderful _potential_ energy which is not yet
differentiated into any particular mode, and that by the action of our mind
we can differentiate it into any specific mode of activity that we will;
and by keeping our thought fixed on the fact that the inflow of this energy
_is_ taking place and that by our mental attitude we _are_ determining its
direction, we shall gradually realize a corresponding externalization.
Proper concentration, therefore, does not consist of strenuous effort which
exhausts the nervous system and defeats its own object by suggesting the
consciousness of an adverse force to be fought against, and thus creating
the adverse circumstances we dread; but in shutting out all thoughts of a
kind that would disperse the spiritual nucleus we are forming and dwelling
cheerfully on the knowledge that, because the law is certain in its action,
our desire is certain of accomplishment. The other great principle to be
remembered is that concentration is for the purpose of determining the
_quality_ we are going to give to the previously undifferentiated energy
rather than to arrange the _specific circumstances_ of its manifestation.
_That_ is the work of the creative energy itself, which will build up its
own forms of expression quite naturally if we allow it, thus saving us a
great deal of needless anxiety. What we really want is expansion in a
certain direction, whether of health, wealth, or what not: and so long as
we get this, what does it matter whether it reaches us through some channel
which we thought we could reckon upon or through some other whose existence
we had not suspected. It is the fact that we are concentrating energy of a
particular kind for a particular purpose that we should fix our minds upon,
and not look upon any specific details as essential to the accomplishment
of our object.
These are the two golden rules regarding concentration; but we must not
suppose that because we have to be on our guard against idle drifting there
is to be no such thing as repose; on the contrary it is during periods of
repose that we accumulate strength for action; but repose does not mean a
state of purposelessness. As pure spirit the subjective mind never rests:
it is only the objective mind in its connection with the physical body that
needs rest; and though there are no doubt times when the greatest possible
rest is to be obtained by stopping the action, of our conscious thought
altogether, the more generally advisable method is by changing the
direction of the thought and, instead of centering it upon something we
intend to _do_, letting it dwell quietly upon what we _are_. This direction
of thought might, of course, develop into the deepest philosophical
speculation, but it is not necessary that we should be always either
consciously projecting our forces to produce some external effect or
working out the details of some metaphysical problem; but we may simply
realize ourselves as part of the universal livingness and thus gain a quiet
centralization, which, though maintained by a conscious act of the
volition, is the very essence of rest. From this standpoint we see that all
is Life and all is Good, and that Nature, from her clearly visible surface
to her most arcane depths, is one vast storehouse of life and good entirely
devoted to our individual use. We have the key to all her treasures, and we
can now apply our knowledge of the law of being without entering into all
those details which are only needed for purposes of study, and doing so we
find it results in our having acquired the consciousness of our _oneness
with the whole_. This is the great secret: and when we have once fathomed
it we can enjoy our possession of the whole, or of any part of it, because
by our recognition we have made it, and can increasingly make it, our own.
Whatever most appeals to us at any particular time or place is that mode of
the universal living spirit with which at that moment we are most in touch,
and realizing this, we shall draw from it streams of vital energy which
will make the very sensation of livingness a joy and will radiate from us
as a sphere of vibration that can deflect all injurious suggestion on
whatever plane. We may not have literary, artistic, or scientific skill to
present to others the results of our communings with Nature, but the joy of
this sympathetic indrawing will nevertheless produce a corresponding
outflow manifesting itself in the happier look and kindlier mien of him who
thus realizes his oneness with every aspect of the whole. He realizes--and
this is the great point in that attitude of mind which is not directed to
any specific external object--that, for himself, he is, and always must be
the centre of all this galaxy of Life, and thus he contemplates himself as
seated at the centre of infinitude, not an infinitude of blank space, but
pulsating with living being, in all of which he knows that the true essence
is nothing but good. This is the very opposite to a selfish
self-centredness; it, is the centre where we find that we both receive from
all and flow out to all. Apart from this principle of circulation there is
no true life, and if we contemplate our central position only as affording
us greater advantages for in-taking, we have missed the whole point of our
studies by missing the real nature of the Life-principle, which is action
and re-action. If we would have life enter into us, we ourselves must enter
into life--enter into the spirit of it, just as we must enter into the
spirit of a book or a game to enjoy it. There can be no action at a centre
only. There must be a perpetual flowing out towards the circumference, and
thence back again to the centre to maintain a vital activity; otherwise
collapse must ensue either from anaemia or congestion. But if we realize
the reciprocal nature of the vital pulsation, and that the outflowing
consists in the habit of mind which gives itself to the good it sees in
others, rather than in any specific actions, then we shall find that the
cultivation of this disposition will provide innumerable avenues for the
universal livingness to flow through us, whether as giving or receiving,
which we had never before suspected: and this action and re-action will so
build up our own vitality that each day will find us more thoroughly alive
than any that had preceded it. This, then, is the attitude of repose in
which we may enjoy all the beauties of science, literature and art or may
peacefully commune with the spirit of nature without the aid of any third
mind to act as its interpreter, which is still a purposeful attitude
although not directed to a specific object: we have not allowed the will to
relax its control, but have merely altered its direction; so that for
action and repose alike we find that our strength lies in our recognition
of the unity of the spirit and of ourselves as individual concentrations of
it.
XIII.
IN TOUCH WITH SUB-CONSCIOUS MIND.
The preceding pages have made the student in some measure aware of the
immense importance of our dealings with the sub-conscious mind. Our
relation to it, whether on the scale of the individual or the universal, is
the key to all that we are or ever can be. In its unrecognized working it
is the spring of all that we can call the automatic action of mind and
body, and on the universal scale it is the silent power of evolution
gradually working onwards to that "divine event, to which the whole
creation moves"; and by our conscious recognition of it we make it,
relatively to ourselves, all that we believe it to be. The closer our
_rapport_ with it becomes, the more what we have hitherto considered
automatic action, whether in our bodies or our circumstances, will pass
under our control, until at last we shall control our whole individual
world. Since, then, this is the stupendous issue involved, the question how
we are to put ourselves practically in touch with the sub-conscious mind is
a very important one. Now the clue which gives us the right direction is to
be found in the _impersonal_ quality of sub-conscious mind of which I have
spoken. Not impersonal as lacking the _elements_ of personality; nor even,
in the case of individual subjective mind, as lacking the sense of
individuality; but impersonal in the sense of not recognizing the
particular external relations which appear to the objective mind to
constitute its personality, and having a realization of itself quite
independent of them. If, then, we would come in touch with it we must meet
it on its own ground. It can see things only from the deductive standpoint,
and therefore cannot take note of the inductive standpoint from which we
construct the idea of our external personality; and accordingly if we would
put ourselves in touch with it, we cannot do so by bringing it down to the
level of the external and non-essential but only by rising to its own level
on the plane of the interior and essential. How can this be done? Let two
well-known writers answer. Rudyard Kipling tells us in his story of "Kim"
how the boy used at times to lose his sense of personality by repeating to
himself the question, _Who_ is Kim? Gradually his personality would seem to
fade and he would experience a feeling of passing into a grander and a
wider life, in which the boy Kim was unknown, while his own conscious
individuality remained, only exalted and expanded to an inconceivable
extent; and in Tennyson's life by his son we are told that at times the
poet had a similar experience. We come into touch with the absolute exactly
in proportion as we withdraw ourselves from the relative: they vary
inversely to each other.