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From Theosophy's Sacred Teachings:
*The Voice of the Silence
*The Two Paths P1/3
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Helena Petrovna
von Hahn,
more popularly known
as Madame Blavatsky
or H.P.B., came from a
noble family in Ukraine.
Her father,
Peter von Hahn
was a descendant
of German nobility;
while her mother, Helena
Andreyevna Hahn,
came from one
of the oldest families of
Russian nobility and was
also a celebrated novelist.
As a child she would
often have visions and
displayed clairvoyance
as well as other
metaphysical phenomena.
Years later,
she traveled
through Europe and
the Middle East studying
under various teachers
and Sufi saints.
She met her teacher,
an Indian yogi named
Master Morya, in London
who later directed her
to go to New York
in the United States.
Once there, she founded
the Theosophical Society.
In 1885,
she started to write
“The Secret Doctrine”
which was finally
published
three years later in 1888.
“The Secret Doctrine”
has been acknowledged
by many as one of
the most remarkable
books in the world.
It is considered to be
the Bible of Theosophy,
a sourcebook of
the esoteric tradition
that outlines
the fundamental tenets
of the secret doctrine
of the past ages.
Published
as two volumes
during her lifetime –
“The Cosmogenesis”
and “Anthropogenesis”
- “The Secret Doctrine”
explains the origin and
evolution of the universe
and of humanity
through an account of
"Root Races" dating back
millions of years.
Although the writer
of “The Secret Doctrine,”
Madame Blavatsky often
expressed that she was
only the compiler
of ancient wisdom
that was passed on to her.
The true authors of the
work were her teachers,
the Mahatmas,
or Great Souls,
who were the guardians
of the Secret Wisdom
of the ages.
Today on Between
Master and Disciples,
we invite you to listen to
“The Voice of The Silence”
and “The Two Paths,”
excerpts from
Madame Blavatksy’s book,
“The Voice of Silence.”
We thank you
for your kind presence
for today’s episode of
Between Master
and Disciples.
Join us again
next Wednesday for
part 2 of excerpts from
Madame Blavatsky’s book,
“The Voice of The Silence.”
Now, please stay tuned
to Supreme Master
Television for
Planet Earth:
Our Loving Home,
coming up next right
after Noteworthy News.
May Providence guide you
in wisdom and love.
We appreciate your
magnanimous company
for today’s episode of
Between Master
and Disciples.
Join us again
next Wednesday for
part 3 of the excerpts from
Madame Blavatsky’s book,
“The Voice of The Silence.”
Please stay tuned
to Supreme Master
Television for
Planet Earth:
Our Loving Home,
coming up next right
after Noteworthy News.
We wish you
and your loved ones
much joy and abundance
every day.
Thank you,
compassionate viewers,
for your gentle company
for today’s episode of
Between Master
and Disciples.
Planet Earth:
Our Loving Home
is coming up next, right
after Noteworthy News.
Please stay tuned
to Supreme Master
Television.
God bless,
and farewell for now.
The Voice of the Silence
by H. P. Blavatsky
Fragment I:
The Voice of Silence
These instructions are
for those ignorant
of the dangers
of the lower “Iddhi”
(psychic faculties).
He who would hear
the voice of Nada,
"the Soundless Sound,"
and comprehend it,
he has to learn the nature
of Dharana
(the intense and perfect
concentration of the mind
on an interior object).
Having become indifferent
to objects of perception,
the pupil must seek out
the rajah of the senses,
the Thought-Producer,
he who awakes illusion.
The Mind is the great
Slayer of the Real.
Let the Disciple
slay the Slayer.
For: When to himself
his form appears unreal,
as do on waking all the forms
he sees in dreams;
When he has ceased
to hear the many,
he may discern the ONE
– the inner sound
which kills the outer.
Then only, not till then,
shall he forsake
the region of Asat,
the false, to come unto
the realm of Sat, the true.
Before the soul can see,
the Harmony within
must be attained, and
fleshly eyes be rendered
blind to all illusion.
Before the Soul can hear,
the image (man)
has to become
as deaf to roarings
as to whispers, to cries
of bellowing elephants
as to the silvery buzzing
of the golden firefly.
Before the soul
can comprehend
and may remember,
she must unto
the Silent Speaker be united
just as the form to which
the clay is modeled,
is first united
with the potter's mind.
For then the soul will hear,
and will remember.
And then to the inner ear
will speak –
the Voice of the Silence.
And say: If thy soul smiles
while bathing in
the Sunlight of thy Life;
if thy soul sings
within her chrysalis
of flesh and matter;
if thy soul weeps inside
her castle of illusion;
if thy soul struggles
to break the silver thread
that binds her to
the Master (Higher Self);
know, O Disciple,
thy Soul is of the earth.
When
to the World's turmoil
thy budding soul lends ear;
when to the roaring voice
of the great illusion
thy Soul responds
when frightened at
the sight of the hot tears
of pain, when deafened
by the cries of distress,
thy soul withdraws
like the shy turtle within
the carapace of Selfhood,
learn, O Disciple,
of her Silent "God,"
thy Soul is
an unworthy shrine.
When waxing stronger,
thy Soul glides forth
from her secure retreat:
and breaking loose from
the protecting shrine,
extends her silver thread
and rushes onward;
when
beholding her image
on the waves of Space
she whispers, "This is I,"
– declare, O Disciple,
that thy soul is caught in
the webs of delusion.
This Earth, Disciple,
is the Hall of Sorrow,
wherein are set along
the Path of
dire probations,
traps to ensnare thy Ego
by the delusion called
"Great Heresy".
This Earth,
O ignorant Disciple,
is but the dismal entrance
leading to the twilight
that precedes the valley
of true light –
that light which
no wind can extinguish,
that light which burns
without a wick or fuel.
Saith the Great Law:
"In order to become
the Knower of All Self
thou hast first of Self
to be the knower."
To reach the knowledge
of that Self, thou hast to
give up Self to Non-Self,
Being to Non-Being,
and then thou canst repose
between the wings
of the Great Bird.
Aye, sweet is rest
between the wings of that
which is not born,
nor dies,
but is the Aum
throughout eternal ages.
Bestride the Bird of Life,
if thou would'st know.
Give up thy life,
if thou would'st live.
Three Halls,
O weary pilgrim,
lead to the end of toils.
Three Halls, O conqueror
of Mara (Great Ensnarer),
will bring thee
through three states
into the fourth and thence
into the seven world,
the worlds of Rest Eternal.
If thou would'st learn
their names, then
hearken, and remember.
The name of the first Hall
is Ignorance – Avidya.
It is the Hall in which
thou saw'st the light,
in which thou livest
and shalt die.
The name of Hall the second
is the Hall of Learning.
In it thy Soul will find
the blossoms of life,
but under every flower
a serpent coiled.
The name of the third Hall
is Wisdom,
beyond which stretch
the shoreless waters
of Akshara,
the indestructible Fount
of Omniscience.
If thou would'st cross
the first Hall safely,
let not thy mind mistake
the fires of lust
that burn therein
for the Sunlight of life.
If thou would'st cross
the second safely,
stop not the fragrance of
its stupefying blossoms
to inhale.
If freed thou would'st be
from the Karmic chains,
seek not for thy Guru in
those Mayavic (illusory)
regions.
The Wise Ones tarry not
in pleasure-grounds
of senses.
The Wise Ones heed not
the sweet-tongued voices
of illusion.
Seek for him
who is to give thee birth,
in the Hall of Wisdom,
the Hall which lies beyond,
wherein all shadows
are unknown, and
where the light of truth
shines with unfading glory.
That which is uncreate
abides in thee, Disciple,
as it abides in that Hall.
If thou would'st reach it
and blend the two,
thou must divest thyself
of thy dark garments
of illusion.
Stifle the voice of flesh,
allow no image of the senses
to get between its light
and thine
that thus the twain
may blend in one.
And having learnt
thine own Agnyana
(ignorance or non-wisdom),
flee from
the Hall of Learning.
This Hall is dangerous
in its perfidious beauty,
is needed
but for thy probation.
Beware,
Lanoo (Disciple),
lest dazzled by
illusive radiance
thy Soul should linger
and be caught
in its deceptive light.
This light shines
from the jewel of
the Great Ensnarer, Mara.
The senses it bewitches,
blinds the mind,
and leaves the unwary
an abandoned wreck.
The moth attracted
to the dazzling flame
of thy night-lamp
is doomed to perish
in the viscid oil.
The unwary Soul
that fails to grapple
with the mocking demon
of illusion, will return
to Earth the slave
of Mara (Great Ensnarer).
Behold the Hosts of Souls.
Watch how they hover
o'er the stormy sea
of human life, and
how exhausted, bleeding,
broken-winged,
they drop one after other
on the swelling waves.
Tossed
by the fierce winds,
chased by the gale,
they drift into the eddies
and disappear within
the first great vortex.
If through
the Hall of Wisdom,
thou would'st reach
the Vale of Bliss, Disciple,
close fast thy senses
against the great dire
heresy of separateness
that weans
thee from the rest.
Let not thy "Heaven-born,"
merged in the sea
of Maya (illusion),
break from the
Universal Parent (SOUL),
but let the fiery power
retire into
the inmost chamber,
the chamber of the Hear
and the abode
of the World's Mother.
Then from the heart
that Power shall rise
into the sixth,
the middle region,
the place
between thine eyes,
when it becomes the
breath of the One-Soul,
the voice which filleth all,
thy Master's voice.
'Tis only then
thou canst become
a "Walker of the Sky"
who treads the winds
above the waves,
whose step
touches not the waters.
Before thou set'st thy foot
upon the ladder's
upper rung, the ladder
of the mystic sounds,
thou hast to hear
the voice of thy inner God
(the Higher Self)
in seven manners.
The first is like the
nightingale's sweet voice
chanting a song
of parting to its mate.
The second comes as the
sound of a silver cymbal
of the Dhyanis
(Lords of meditation),
awakening
the twinkling stars.
The next is
as the plaint melodious
of the ocean-sprite
imprisoned in its shell.
And this is followed by
the chant of Vina
(Indian string instrument).
The fifth like sound
of bamboo-flute
shrills in thine ear.
It changes next
into a trumpet-blast.
The last vibrates
like the dull rumbling
of a thunder-cloud.
The seventh swallows
all the other sounds.
They die, and then
are heard no more.
When the six are slain
and at the Master's feet
are laid, then is the pupil
merged into the One,
becomes that One
and lives therein.
Before that path is entered,
thou must destroy
thy lunar body,
cleanse thy mind-body
and make clean thy heart.
Eternal life's pure waters,
clear and crystal,
with the monsoon
tempest's muddy torrents
cannot mingle.
Heaven's dew-drop
glittering in the morn's
first sunbeam within
the bosom of the lotus,
when dropped on earth
becomes a piece of clay;
behold, the pearl is now
a speck of mire.
Strive with thy thoughts
unclean before
they overpower thee.
Use them
as they will thee,
for if thou sparest them
and they take root and grow,
know well,
these thoughts
will overpower
and kill thee.
Beware, Disciple,
suffer not, e'en though
it be their shadow,
to approach.
For it will grow, increase
in size and power,
and then this thing
of darkness
will absorb thy being
before thou hast
well realized the black
foul monster's presence.
Before the "mystic Power"
(Kundalini or mystic fire)
can make of thee a god,
Lanoo, thou must have
gained the faculty to slay
thy lunar form at will.
The Self of matter
and the Self of Spirit
can never meet.
One of the twain
must disappear;
there is no place for both.
Ere thy Soul's mind
can understand,
the bud of personality
must be crushed out,
the worm of sense
destroyed past resurrection.
Thou canst not travel
on the Path
before thou hast become
that Path itself.
Let thy Soul lend its ear
to every cry of pain like
as the lotus bares its heart
to drink the morning sun.
Let not the fierce Sun
dry one tear of pain
before thyself
hast wiped it from
the sufferer's eye.
But let each
burning human tear
drop on thy heart
and there remain,
nor ever brush it off,
until the pain
that caused it is removed.
These tears, O thou
of heart most merciful,
these are the streams
that irrigate the fields
of charity immortal.
'Tis on such soil
that grows the midnight
blossom of Buddha
more difficult to find,
more rare to view
than is the flower
of the Vogay tree.
It is the seed of freedom
from rebirth.
It isolates the Arhat
both from strife and lust,
it leads him through
the fields of Being
unto the peace and bliss
known only in the land of
Silence and Non-Being.
Kill out desire;
but if thou killest it
take heed lest from the dead
it should again arise.
Kill love of life, but
if thou slayest tanha
(the fear of death
and love for life),
let this not be
for thirst of life eternal,
but to replace the fleeting
by the everlasting.
Desire nothing.
Chafe not
at Karma (retribution),
nor at Nature's
changeless laws.
But struggle only
with the personal,
the transitory,
the evanescent
and the perishable.
Help Nature and
work on with her; and
Nature will regard thee
as one of her creators
and make obeisance.
And she will open wide
before thee the portals
of her secret chambers,
lay bare before thy gaze
the treasures hidden
in the very depths
of her pure virgin bosom.
Unsullied by
the hand of matter
she shows her treasures
only to the eye of Spirit –
the eye which never closes,
the eye for which
there is no veil
in all her kingdoms.
Then will she show thee
the means and way,
the first gate
and the second, the third,
up to the very seventh.
And then, the goal –
beyond which lie,
bathed in the sunlight of
the Spirit, glories untold,
unseen by any
save the eye of Soul.
There is but one road
to the Path;
at its very end alone
the "Voice of the Silence"
can be heard.
The ladder by which
the candidate ascends
is formed of rungs
of suffering and pain;
these can be silenced
only by the voice of virtue.
Woe, then,
to thee, Disciple,
if there is one single vice
thou hast not left behind.
For then the ladder
will give way
and overthrow thee;
its foot rests
in the deep mire
of thy sins and failings,
and ere thou canst
attempt to cross
this wide abyss of matter
thou hast to lave thy feet
in Waters of Renunciation.
Beware lest
thou should'st set a foot
still soiled upon
the ladder's lowest rung.
Woe unto him
who dares pollute one
rung with miry feet.
The foul and viscous mud
will dry,
become tenacious,
then glue his feet
unto the spot,
and like a bird caught in
the wily fowler's lime,
he will be stayed
from further progress.
His vices will take shape
and drag him down.
His sins will
raise their voices like as
the jackal's laugh and sob
after the sun goes down;
his thoughts become an
army, and bear him off
a captive slave.
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