Journeys into the bright world

On the whole, I agreed with the author's thesis that samadhi is not, as commonly implied, an end product but rather is a condition out of which emerges the beginning of a new cosmic play. I had always felt that samadhi holds the key to our evolutionary process and that it could and should initiate man's entrance into the fifth kingdom of higher mental development. That is, if the first four kingdoms are those of the mineral, the vegetable, the animal and man, then the fifth kingdom should be one of transpersonal Self-realization. In my own case I felt that the imprint of a new goal had been stamped upon my psyche, that individual cells were being realined, and that gradually it was becoming possible to function in a higher dimension. Even so it was clear that we had made but the barest beginning.

In one respect, however, I questioned what seemed to me to be an unthinking assumption on the part of the author, even though it is a standard presupposition found in most books of this type. This was the statement:

A volitional conscious effort is necessary by the meditator. So any state of concentration wherein the mind becomes still, whether the benumbing of it is caused by shock, stimulant, hypnosis, medicine, or drugs cannot be considered a step in samadhi wherein liberation from the mundane world is accomplished.

Certainly I understand, appreciate and fundamentally agree with the idea that no spiritual waterwings, least of all those provided by drugs, are going to provide a substitute for learning to swim. Obviously we are set here on earth to develop mental muscles through our own efforts. On the other hand, there may be a stage in a child's development when he needs waterwings, or the equivalent, simply to introduce him to the water. If he is hanging back in fear when there is an urgent necessity for him to learn to stay afloat then anything which encourages him to go through the motions of swimming may be justified.

Similarly, there is now such a desperate need for humanity to improve its navigational skills on the ocean of life that any aid which can hasten the process should be entertained. Consciousness-altering drugs may be drastic measures, but what could be more drastic than the problems now engulfing the planet? Physicians seldom hesitate to prescribe medicines for sicknesses of the body. Why then, should we not prescribe medicines for sicknesses of the soul, especially when our very survival is at stake?

To this, critics are apt to reply. "But should we not earn what comes to us? Does not the law of karma decree that we have to work for our rewards?"

If we believe in the law of karma ("As ye sow, so shall ye reap,") then it stands to reason that we don't get something for nothing. But does this mean that the karmic law of cosmic reciprocity cannot also make some provision for "gratuitous grace?" Can an otherwise deserving person transcend some of his predetermined limitations even as, under proper conditions, an airplane can transcend gravity? How are we to judge who deserves what? Can we assume, for example, that thirty years of meditation in a convent or monastry must necessarily take a person farther along the spiritual path than thirty years of punching a time clock in a city factory?

Mary is a friend of ours whose wealthy father financed her seven years of studies in various East Indian ashrams. She had nothing to do but read, meditate, explore the Himalayas and converse with holy people. In the end Mary was able to attain so exalted a spiritual mood that she succeeded in entering the highest stage of yoga, known as samadhi.

Betty is another friend who spent the same seven years working as a secretary in order to put her husband through law school and support their two young children. She rose at six every morning to prepare the family breakfast before taking the bus to work, and often did not get to bed until midnight. Betty would have loved to have practiced meditation but there was no possible way that the requisite half-hour could be jammed into her schedule of daily duties.

Now, can we say that Mary is more worthy of the bliss-bestowing gift of samadhi than Betty? In the last analysis it was Betty who had practiced austerities, trained her mind and subordinated her ego to the demands of a rigorous discipline. If Betty could take a drug such as ketamine in order to reach a genuine peak experience should she be discouraged simply because she has not followed the time-honored route up the mountain?