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The
Four Austerities and the Four Liberations
Page 1
TO
PURSUE an integral education that leads to the
supramental realisation, four austerities are necessary,
and with them four liberations.
Austerity
is usually confused with self-mortification, and when someone
speaks of austerities, we think of the discipline of the
ascetic who, in order to avoid the arduous task of spiritualising
the physical, vital and mental life, declares it incapable
of transformation and casts it away ruthlessly as a useless
encumbrance, as a bondage and an impediment to all spiritual
progress, in any case as something incorrigible, as a load
that has to be borne more or less cheerfully until Nature,
or divine Grace, delivers you from it by death. At best,
life on earth is a field for progress and one should take
advantage of it as best one can in order to reach as soon
as possible the degree of perfection which will put an end
to the ordeal by making it unnecessary.
For
us the problem is quite different. Life on earth is not
a passage or a means; by transformation it must become a
goal and a realisation. Consequently, when we speak of austerities,
it is not out of contempt for the body nor to detach ourselves
from it, but because of the need for control and mastery.
For there is an austerity which is far greater, far more
complete and far more difficult than all the austerities
of the ascetic: it is the austerity which is necessary for
the integral transformation, the fourfold austerity which
prepares the individual for the manifestation of the supramental
truth. For example, one can say that few austerities are
as strict as those which physical culture demands for the
perfection of the body. But we shall return to this point
in due time.
Before
starting to describe the four kinds of austerity required,
it is necessary to clarify one question which is a source
of much misunderstanding and confusion in the minds of most
people. It is the question of ascetic practices, which they
mistake for spiritual disciplines. These practices, which
consist of ill-treating the body in order, so they say,
to liberate the spirit from it, are in fact a sensuous distortion
of spiritual discipline; it is a kind of perverse need for
suffering which drives the ascetic to self-mortification.
The sadhu's recourse to the bed of nails or the Christian
anchorite's resort to the whip and the hair-shirt are the
result of a more or less veiled sadistic tendency, unavowed
and unavowable; it is an unhealthy seeking or a subconscious
need for violent sensations. In reality, these things are
very far removed from all spiritual life, for they are ugly
and base, dark and diseased; whereas spiritual life, on
the contrary, is a life of light and balance, beauty and
joy. They are invented and extolled by a sort of mental
and vital cruelty towards the body. But cruelty, even with
regard to one's own body, is nonetheless cruelty, and all
cruelty is a sign of great unconsciousness. Unconscious
natures need very strong sensations, for without them they
can feel nothing; and cruelty, which is one form of sadism,
brings very strong sensations. The avowed purpose of such
practices is to abolish all sensation so that the body may
no longer stand in the way of one's flight towards the spirit;
but the effectiveness of this method is open to doubt. It
is a recognised fact that in order to progress rapidly,
one must not be afraid of difficulties; on the contrary,
by choosing to do the difficult thing at every opportunity,
one increases the will-power and strengthens the nerves.
Now, it is much more difficult to lead a life of moderation
and balance, in equanimity and serenity, than to try to
contend with over-indulgence in pleasure and the obscuration
it entails, by over-indulgence in asceticism and the disintegration
it causes. It is much more difficult to achieve the harmonious
and progressive development of one's physical being in calm
and simplicity than to ill-treat it to the point of annihilation.
It is much more difficult to live soberly and without desire
than to deprive the body of its indispensable nourishment
and cleanliness and boast proudly of one's abstinence. It
is much more difficult to avoid or to surmount and conquer
illness by an inner and outer harmony, purity and balance,
than to disregard and ignore it and leave it free to do
its work of destruction. And the most difficult thing of
all is to maintain the consciousness constantly at the height
of its capacity, never allowing the body to act under the
influence of a lower impulse.
This
is why we shall have recourse to the four austerities which
will result in four liberations within us. The practice
of these austerities will constitute a fourfold discipline
or tapasya which can be defined as follows:
1. Tapasya
of love
2. Tapasya of knowledge
3. Tapasya of power
4. Tapasya of beauty
These terms have been listed from top to bottom, so to say,
but their order should not be taken to indicate anything
superior or inferior, or more or less difficult, or the
order in which these disciplines can and ought to be practised.
The order, importance and difficulty vary with each individual
and no absolute rule can be formulated. Each one must find
and work out his own system according to his personal needs
and capacities.
Accordingly, only an overall view will be given here, presenting
an ideal procedure that is as complete as possible. Each
one will then have to apply as much of it as he can in the
best possible way.
The tapasya or discipline of beauty will lead us, through
austerity in physical life, to freedom in action. Its basic
programme will be to build a body that is beautiful in form,
harmonious in posture, supple and agile in its movements,
powerful in its activities and robust in its health and
organic functioning.
To achieve these results, it will be good, as a general
rule, to make use of habit as a help in organising one's
material life, for the body functions more easily within
the framework of a regular routine. But one must know how
to avoid becoming a slave to one's habits, however good
they may be; the greatest flexibility must be maintained
so that one may change them each time it becomes necessary
to do so.
One must build up nerves of steel in powerful and elastic
muscles in order to be able to endure anything whenever
it is indispensable. But at the same time great care must
be taken not to demand more from the body than the effort
which is strictly necessary, the expenditure of energy that
fosters growth and progress, while categorically excluding
everything that causes exhaustion and leads in the end to
physical decline and disintegration.
A physical culture which aims at building a body capable
of serving as a fit instrument for a higher consciousness
demands very austere habits: a great regularity in sleep,
food, exercise and every activity. By a scrupulous study
of one's own bodily needs—for they vary with each
individual—a general programme will be established;
and once this has been done well, it must be followed rigorously,
without any fantasy or slackness. There must be no little
exceptions to the rule that are indulged in "just for
once" but which are repeated very often—for as
soon as one yields to temptation, even "just for once",
one lessens the resistance of the will-power and opens the
door to every failure. One must therefore forgo all weakness:
no more nightly escapades from which one comes back exhausted,
no more feasting and carousing which upset the normal functioning
of the stomach, no more distractions, amusements and pleasures
that only waste energy and leave one without the strength
to do the daily practice. One must submit to the austerity
of a sensible and regular life, concentrating all one's
physical attention on building a body that comes as close
to perfection as possible. To reach this ideal goal, one
must strictly shun all excess and every vice, great or small;
one must deny oneself the use of such slow poisons as tobacco,
alcohol, etc., which men have a habit of developing into
indispensable needs that gradually destroy the will and
the memory. The all-absorbing interest which nearly all
human beings, even the most intellectual, have in food,
its preparation and its consumption, should be replaced
by an almost chemical knowledge of the needs of the body
and a very scientific austerity in satisfying them. Another
austerity must be added to that of food, the austerity of
sleep. It does not consist in going without sleep but in
knowing how to sleep. Sleep must not be a fall into unconsciousness
which makes the body heavy instead of refreshing it. Eating
with moderation and abstaining from all excess greatly reduces
the need to spend many hours in sleep; however, the quality
of sleep is much more important than its quantity. In order
to have a truly effective rest and relaxation during sleep,
it is good as a rule to drink something before going to
bed, a cup of milk or soup or fruit-juice, for instance.
Light food brings a quiet sleep. One should, however, abstain
from all copious meals, for then the sleep becomes agitated
and is disturbed by nightmares, or else is dense, heavy
and dulling. But the most important thing of all is to make
the mind clear, to quieten the emotions and calm the effervescence
of desires and the preoccupations which accompany them.
If before retiring to bed one has talked a lot or had a
lively discussion, if one has read an exciting or intensely
interesting book, one should rest a little without sleeping
in order to quieten the mental activity, so that the brain
does not engage in disorderly movements while the other
parts of the body alone are asleep. Those who practise meditation
will do well to concentrate for a few minutes on a lofty
and restful idea, in an aspiration towards a higher and
vaster consciousness. Their sleep will benefit greatly from
this and they will largely be spared the risk of falling
into unconsciousness while they sleep.
After the austerity of a night spent wholly in resting in
a calm and peaceful sleep comes the austerity of a day which
is sensibly organised; its activities will be divided between
the progressive and skilfully graded exercises required
for the culture of the body, and work of some kind or other.
For both can and ought to form part of the physical tapasya.
With regard to exercises, each one will choose the ones
best suited to his body and, if possible, take guidance
from an expert on the subject, who knows how to combine
and grade the exercises to obtain a maximum effect. Neither
the choice nor the execution of these exercises should be
governed by fancy. One must not do this or that because
it seems easier or more amusing; there should be no change
of training until the instructor considers it necessary.
The self-perfection or even simply the self-improvement
of each individual body is a problem to be solved, and its
solution demands much patience, perseverance and regularity.
In spite of what many people think, the athlete's life is
not a life of amusement or distraction; on the contrary,
it is a life of methodical efforts and austere habits, which
leave no room for useless fancies that go against the result
one wants to achieve.
In work too there is an austerity. It consists in not having
any preferences and in doing everything one does with interest.
For one who wants to grow in self-perfection, there are
no great or small tasks, none that are important or unimportant;
all are equally useful for one who aspires for progress
and self-mastery. It is said that one only does well what
one is interested in doing. This is true, but it is truer
still that one can learn to find interest in everything
one does, even in what appear to be the most insignificant
chores. The secret of this attainment lies in the urge towards
self-perfection. Whatever occupation or task falls to your
lot, you must do it with a will to progress; whatever one
does, one must not only do it as best one can but strive
to do it better and better in a constant effort for perfection.
In this way everything without exception becomes interesting,
from the most material chore to the most artistic and intellectual
work. The scope for progress is infinite and can be applied
to the smallest thing.
This
leads us quite naturally to liberation in action. For, in
one's action, one must be free from all social conventions,
all moral prejudices. However, this does not mean that one
should lead a life of licence and dissoluteness. On the
contrary, one imposes on oneself a rule that is far stricter
than all social rules, for it tolerates no hypocrisy and
demands a perfect sincerity. One's entire physical activity
should be organised to help the body to grow in balance
and strength and beauty. For this purpose, one must abstain
from all pleasure-seeking, including sexual pleasure. For
every sexual act is a step towards death. That is why from
the most ancient times, in the most sacred and secret schools,
this act was prohibited to every aspirant towards immortality.
The sexual act is always followed by a longer or shorter
period of unconsciousness that opens the door to all kinds
of influences and causes a fall in consciousness. But if
one wants to prepare oneself for the supramental life, one
must never allow one's consciousness to slip into laxity
and inconscience under the pretext of pleasure or even of
rest and relaxation. One should find relaxation in force
and light, not in darkness and weakness. Continence is therefore
the rule for all those who aspire for progress. But especially
for those who want to prepare themselves for the supramental
manifestation, this continence must be replaced by a total
abstinence, achieved not by coercion and suppression but
by a kind of inner alchemy, as a result of which the energies
that are normally used in the act of procreation are transmuted
into energies for progress and integral transformation.
It is obvious that for the result to be total and truly
beneficial, all sexual impulses and desires must be eliminated
from the mental and vital consciousness as well as from
the physical will. All radical and durable transformation
proceeds from within outwards, so that the external transformation
is the normal, almost inevitable result of this process.
A decisive choice has to be made between lending the body
to Nature's ends in obedience to her demand to perpetuate
the race as it is, and preparing this same body to become
a step towards the creation of the new race. For it is not
possible to do both at the same time; at every moment one
has to decide whether
one wants to remain part of the humanity of yesterday or
to belong to the superhumanity of tomorrow.
One must renounce being adapted to life as it is and succeeding
in it if one wants to prepare for life as it will be and
to become an active and efficient part of it.
One must refuse pleasure if one wants to open to the delight
of existence, in a total beauty and harmony.
This brings us quite naturally to vital austerity, the austerity
of the sensations, the tapasya of power. For the vital being
is the seat of power, of effective enthusiasm. It is in
the vital that thought is transformed into will and becomes
a dynamism for action. It is also true that the vital is
the seat of desires and passions, of violent impulses and
equally violent reactions, of revolt and depression. The
normal remedy is to strangle and starve the vital by depriving
it of all sensation; sensations are indeed its main sustenance
and without them it falls asleep, grows sluggish and starves
to death.
In fact, the vital has three sources of subsistence. The
one most easily accessible to it comes from below, from
the physical energies through the sensations.
The second is on its own plane, when it is sufficiently
vast and receptive, by contact with the universal vital
forces.
The
third, to which it usually opens only in a great aspiration
for progress, comes to it from above by the infusion and
absorption of spiritual forces and inspiration.
To
these sources men always strive more or less to add another,
which is for them at the same time the source of most of
their torments and misfortunes. It is the interchange of
vital forces with their fellows, usually in groups of two,
which they most often mistake for love, but which is only
the attraction between two forces that take pleasure in
mutual interchange.
Thus, if we do not wish to starve our vital, sensations
must not be rejected or diminished in number and intensity.
Neither should we avoid them; rather we must make use of
them with wisdom and discernment. Sensations are an excellent
instrument of knowledge and education, but to make them
serve these ends, they must not be used egoistically for
the sake of enjoyment, in a blind and ignorant search for
pleasure and self-satisfaction.
The senses should be capable of enduring everything without
disgust or displeasure, but at the same time they must acquire
and develop more and more the power of discerning the quality,
origin and effect of the various vital vibrations in order
to know whether they are favourable to harmony, beauty and
good health or whether they are harmful to the balance and
progress of the physical being and the vital. Moreover,
the senses should be used as instruments to approach and
study the physical and vital worlds in all their complexity;
in this way they will take their true place in the great
endeavour towards transformation.
It is by enlightening, strengthening and purifying the vital,
and not by weakening it, that one can contribute to the
true progress of the being. To deprive oneself of sensations
is therefore as harmful as depriving oneself of food. But
just as the choice of food must be made wisely and solely
for the growth and proper functioning of the body, so too
the choice of sensations and their control should be made
with a very scientific austerity and solely for the growth
and perfection of the vital, of this highly dynamic instrument,
which is as essential for progress as all the other parts
of the being.
It is by educating the vital, by making it more refined,
more sensitive, more subtle and, one should almost say,
more elegant, in the best sense of the word, that one can
overcome its violence and brutality, which are in fact a
form of crudity and ignorance, of lack of taste.
In truth, a cultivated and illumined vital can be as noble
and heroic and disinterested as it is now spontaneously
vulgar, egoistic and perverted when it is left to itself
without education. It is enough for each one to know how
to transform in himself the search for pleasure into an
aspiration for the supramental
plenitude. If the education of the vital is carried far
enough, with perseverance and sincerity, there comes a time
when, convinced of the greatness and beauty of the goal,
the vital gives up petty and illusory sensorial satisfactions
in order to win the divine delight.
Bulletin,
February
1953
- The Mother |
