between our ego and our quantum modalities. The existentialist philosopher Martin Buber has called this the I-thou encounter; it’s even more intense than creativity in service of accomplishments because your purpose now is transformation of your identity, a radical change to your adult ego. Radical change requires radical intensity.
A young man did not see how it was possible to concentrate on a mantra even for a few minutes. So his teacher, who happened to be the king, ordered the young man to carry a vessel full of oil three times around the palace. “And while you carry the oil,” cautioned the king, “be careful that not a single drop falls to the ground. A swordsman will follow you, and he will cut off your head if any of the oil spills.” As he carried out the King’s command, the young man discovered the art of successful concentration.
Physician and spiritual teacher Richard Moss found that impending surgery also fostered the meditative intensity I’ve been discussing; the healing path can be very helpful for self-realization. When the mystic/psychologist Richard Alpert (also known as Ram Dass) worked on a prison project, he was impressed with the level of awareness of the inmates on death row. Hospice workers also find that high levels of intensity become available to people facing death. But extreme circumstances are not a requirement. The basis of the teachings of Krishnamurti was simple curiosity. Just observe; just look. Ultimately, we are afraid of intense practice. It’s like the story of the chicken and the pig traveling together. They saw a diner with a sign advertising a bacon-and-egg special, and the hungry chicken wanted to stop there. But the pig balked, protesting, “You have to make only a contribution. But for me, that’s total commitment.” The mystic Ligia Dantes suggests watching our fear and learning to discriminate between fear as a natural survival instinct and fear as the need to perpetuate the illusions of the ego-identity. When you shed fantasy you can more readily invite intensity into your practice.
“If I give up my ego, what’s left?” This is the question—formed entirely from our desires, fears, attachments, etc.—that makes us shy away from honest self-scrutiny and from surrendering to the quantum self. Is there life after shifting your center of being beyond the ego? You have to ask the question with intensity, to take a risk with no surety of reward, and to accept the anguish of waiting for your new life to spring forth. The travail of the night Will it not usher the dawn? In the night of sorrow, under death’s blow, When man bursts his mortal bounds, Will not God stand revealed In His glory?1 —Tagore
Big Insight
The mystic Franklin Merrell-Wolff, a trained mathematician and philosopher, practiced the path of wisdom for years with great intensity. Then two things happened. He came across the wisdom of the Indian mystic Shankara through his book, Crest Jewel of Discrimination. Distilled to its essence, Shankara’s insight was this: Atman (the quantum self) is Brahman (consciousness, the foundation of being). Merrell-Wolff began to tirelessly ponder this wisdom. Then one day he realized that there was nothing to seek. To his amazement, this realization was followed by an experience of the quantum self.
What actually takes place in this direct encounter with the quantum self? Merrell-Wolff is quite specific:
The first discernible effect on consciousness was something that I may call a shift in the base of
consciousness. … I knew myself to be beyond space, time, and causality. … Closely associated with
the foregoing realization there is a feeling of complete freedom. … I did not attempt to stop the activity of the mind, but simply very largely ignored the stream of thought. … The result was that I was in a sort of compound state wherein I was both here and “There,” with the objective consciousness less acute than normal.2
In the moment of spiritual illumination, quantum self-awareness floods the field of attention; secondary-awareness processes (related to memory and ego) continue, but are given no attention or importance. Some people declare that they are “enlightened” as a result of the experience of self- realization. But there is a fallacy here. As Lao Tzu used to say, “The one who knows cannot say, the one who says cannot know.” So here is a genuine difference between inner creativity of accomplishments and the inner creativity of self-realization. In the former, the ego is the central player. This is appropriate, and does no harm. But in inner creativity of self-realization, any such involvement of the ego is a detriment to the process.
Ram Dass went public with his enlightenment, only to realize years later how the declaration had interfered with the transformation of his being. After he corrected his mistake, his spiritual flowering resumed. In other words, humility is a necessary ingredient of self-realization. Humility is the recognition that a transpersonal consciousness beyond ego, beyond even the quantum self, is potentially in charge. What brings you to the path of self-realization, Oh traveler? Do you seek to know yourself? Have you exhausted your accomplishments? Have you manifested the archetypes in your living? Meditate hard, practice silence—until, Your striving exhausted, you surrender In utter humility. Then, enfolded in your experience Of oneness with the universe, Do you think you are enlightened? Is this your new identity?