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Re: In Deaths Dark Veil and Beyond

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  • devindersingh
    A range of mystics and philosophers or philosopher-mystics from Kierkegaard to Sartre have made much of the sentiment of anguish . Naturally, it is not the
    Message 1 of 2 , Jan 25, 2013
      A range of mystics and philosophers or philosopher-mystics from
      Kierkegaard to Sartre have made much of the sentiment of "anguish".
      Naturally, it is not the usual feeling of grief or sorrow due to
      disappointment or frustration that they refer to, nor is it the
      "repentance" which is a cardinal virtue in the Christian spiritual
      discipline. Repentance or grief is for something amiss, for some wrong
      done, for some good not done. It has a definite cause that gives rise to
      it and determinate conditions that maintain and foster it: and therefore
      it has also an end, at least the possibility of an ending. It is not
      eternal and can be mastered and got over: it is of the category of the
      Sankhyan or Buddhistic dukhatrayabhighata – for that matter even the
      lacrimae rerum (tears inherent in things) of Virgil* are not eternal.

      But the new Anguish spoken of is a strange phenomenon: it is causeless
      and it is eternal. It has sprung unbidden with no antecedent cause or
      condition: it is woven into the stuff of the being, part and parcel of
      the consciousness itself. Indeed it seems to be the veritable original
      sin, pertaining to the very nature. Kierkegaard makes of it an absolute
      necessity in the spiritual constituent and growth of the human soul
      – something akin to, but deeper, because ineradicable, than the
      Socratic "divine discontent". Sartre puts it in more philosophical and
      rational terms, in a secular atmosphere as a kind of inevitable
      accompaniment to the sense of freedom and responsibility and loneliness
      that besets the individual being and consciousness at its inmost core,
      its deepest depth.

      Indeed, Purusha is freedom, for in its own status it means liberation
      from all obligations to Prakriti. But such freedom brings in its train,
      not necessarily always but under certain conditions, a terrible sense of
      being all alone, of infinite loneliness. One is oneself, naked and face
      to face with one's singleness and unbreakable, unsharable individual
      unity. The others come as a product or corollary to this original sui
      generis entity. Along with the sense of freedom and choice or
      responsibility and loneness, there is added and gets ingrained into it
      the sense of fear and anxiety – the anguish (Angst).The burden that
      freedom and loneliness brings seems to be too great. The Purusha that
      has risen completely into the mental zone becomes wholly a witness, as
      the Sankhyans discovered, and all the movements of his nature appear
      outside, as if foreign: an absolute calm and unperturbed tranquillity or
      indifference is his character. But it is not so with regard to the being
      that has still one foot imbedded in the lower region of the vital
      consciousness; for that indeed is the proper region of anguish, of fear
      and apprehension, and it is there that the soul becoming conscious of
      itself and separate from others feels lone, lonely, companionless,
      without support, as it were. The mentalised vital Purusha suffers from
      this peculiar night of the soul. Sartre's outlook is shot through with
      very many experiences of this intermediary zone of consciousness.

      The solution, the issue out is, of course, to go ahead. Instead of
      making the intermediary poise, however necessary it may be, a permanent
      character of the being and its destiny, as these philosophers tend to
      do, one should take another bold step, a jump upward. For the next
      stage, the stage when the true equilibrium, the inherent reconciliation
      is realised between oneself and others, between the inner soul and its
      outer nature is what the Upanishad describes as Vijnana, the Vast


      The Egyptians knew the soul is immortal:

      --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "Dick." wrote:

      > In Deaths Dark Veil and Beyond

      > Death, in my experiences of it, is when the world passes away and I am
      > alone on the dark journey home to the Ground of my conscious Being.
      > knows what alone and lonely means then. But I did not know that it was
      > journey home at that time, for I was young, green, and ignorant then;
      > I assumed that it was just the end. But I was a little bit cross about
      > leaving here so soon, and so fit and young. But at least I had lived
      > loved. So I knew what love was like. It is the grandest and most
      > powerful of all things. But the love which I had had was still in me
      > fighting despite the gloom and darkness of the strange voyage to the
      > end.

      > The world passed away while I was listening to this music, and then
      > too ended. But it did lift my spirit for the rest of the journey.

      > http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxdOYgTXtH8

      > However, during that journey I sang this song to myself –
      > Arrivederci Roma. For I thought it was very fitting at that time. But
      > turned out that it was far more fitting than I had ever thought that
      > was. I told a few people about this some years later. And one of them
      > asked me what would be the most fitting song to sing at that time if
      > they too did not know that it was a journey home. I thought about it
      > some time and then came up with something. A song which already
      > But the words were not fit for purpose. So I changed some of them

      > Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
      > The darkness deepens; love, in me abide.
      > When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
      > Help of the helpless, love, abide in me.

      > Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
      > Earth's joys now gone; its glories passed away;
      > Change and decay in all around I see;
      > O love which changes not, abide in me.

      > Though in my head in early youth did smile,
      > And though rebellious and stubborn so meanwhile,
      > Love hast not left me, as oft as I left thee.
      > On to the close, this love abides in me.

      > I loved its presence each passing hour.
      > And that joy can foil this journeys power.
      > Which, like itself, my strength can stay, can be;
      > Through cloud and sunshine, love abides in me.

      > I fear no foe, with love at hand to bless;
      > Ills have no weight, no tears, no inner stress.
      > Where is death's sting? where, grave, its victory?
      > I will triumph still, and even just with me.
      > Hold then this love in this my closing days;
      > Shine through the gloom and send me on its ways.
      > No morning breaks, and earth's short daylight flees.
      > In life, in death, O love, abide in me.

      > http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7FUcu5OD3Y

      > Dick Richardson. With acknowledgments.

      > So, that would be a fitting song to sing at that time when you are
      > passing through that dark veil. However, the end turned out to be not
      > the end. For there came more, much much more. And learning was just at
      > its beginning for me. Death has no sting; for I overcame it. And
      > like a rose beneath the snow, came to blossom again, and again. But
      > of all the forging revealed to me that I was not alone. And the
      > that I was not alone, and that I was a part of THE ALL and THE ALL was
      > part of me, came much later. So, it was well worth my coming back here
      > to learn more and become more than I was when I left. The knower of
      > known is also the lover of the loved. As for you, well make of it
      > you will in the meantime. But assumption is not a good travelling
      > companion; and it is an obstacle to learning and Becoming the more
      > we, and life, can become.

      > Feel free to share this with any of your friends and acquaintances,
      > it might encourage them to live the day to their fullest capacity.

      > Bon Voyage

      > Dick Richardson

      [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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