William Atkinson - The Essential Works of William Walker Atkinson - 50+ Books in One Edition

To the men on the Mental plane, the Mind is all. They realize its mastery of the body; are aware of the wonderful powers of the Mind over the particular body under its control; the bodies of others; the minds of others. To them the Mind is the highest self—identical with Spirit. They are conscious of the wonderful workings of the Mind, but are conscious of nothing higher. To some of them death seems to end all, their idea being that all dies with the brain. Others feel, somehow, that their Intellect will maintain its existence, but it is merely a belief or hope, based upon the words or opinions of others who have claimed authority to speak. But they have no awareness of Eternal Life— no perception of the Real Self which knows itself to be Eternal.

When a man enters fully upon the mental plane of consciousness, his troubles commence. He grows dissatisfied. He feels new longings, which he strives to satisfy. Tolstoi says of this state: “As soon as the mental part of a person takes control, new worlds are opened, and desires are multiplied a thousand-fold. They become as numerous as the radii of a circle; and the mind, with care and anxiety, sets itself first to cultivate and then gratify these desires, thinking that happiness is to be had in that way.” But although the mental stage brings its own happiness, it brings its own pains and unhappiness. Man finds himself hemmed in at all quarters by the limits of the Intellect. He crys: “Why?” And he finds no answer in the enclosure of his intellect. He grows beyond accepting things just because someone else has said them, and he demands an answer of his reasoning faculties—he directs his Intellect to lead him, but he finds out after a while that the Intellect is leading him a wearisome journey round and round a well worn path, and he finds himself far away from that which he seeks. The further Man advances along purely Intellectual lines, the more unhappiness he opens himself up to. The more he suffers the more he knows. And yet Intellect is the finest tool with which the Spirit works, and when one attains the higher stages of consciousness—enters the realm of Spiritual Consciousness, he takes great delight in wielding the polished weapon of the Intellect, not in the old way but as a valuable instrument in the hands of the Spirit.

Man’s only possible escape from the pain of the mental plane is through the channel of spiritual unfoldment—the growth of consciousness along spiritual lines—the turning of the light of consciousness into the heretofore unexplored field of the spiritual faculties. Here alone is peace.

In the next chapter I will speak of the spiritual unfoldment.

Table of Content

The Pilgrim on The Path—The path among the hills—An unknown road—One step at a time—A strange land—No landmarks—A stopping place and point of observation—A wondrous view—The awakening of the Spiritual Consciousness—The knowing of the “I Am”— Consciousness of immortality—Consciousness of one’s place in the Universe—Recognition of one’s relation to other parts of the Whole—The border-land of the Cosmic Knowing—A tiny drop of Spirit from the Great Spirit Ocean—Recognition of the Universal Presence—Seeing things as they are—God’s sunshine and his love, bestowed upon all—The “Lost Sheep” now understood—Treading the Path—The Soul’s Awakening—Joy! Joy! Joy!—The song of the Soul.

MAN HAS progressed along the Lines of unfoldment, growth and development, traveling, in turn, through the stages of the physical plane, then into the large and broader mental plane in all its varied phases. From the comparatively care-free physical plane, he has passed on to the mental plane with all its worries, doubts, struggles, agnosticism, denial, longings, dissatisfaction, unhappiness. Finally he sees a new path winding up the hills, and although he knows not where it leads, he, in despair, seeks to travel it, hoping, almost against hope, that it may lead him to the Promised Land of Peace.

He travels along. He notices the marks of the feet of those who have traveled before, but sees also that but few have traveled that path. He feels doubtful, for instead of being able to see whither the road leads him, he finds that the path is winding, and he can see scarcely more than a few steps ahead. But carried on by a longing which he scarcely comprehends, he takes the few steps with faith in his heart, and having taken them he is conscious of ascending the hills, and other steps open up before him. He remembers the words of the old, familiar hymn:

… “I do not ask to see the distant scene;

One step enough for me. Lead Thou me on.”

Soon he becomes conscious that he has entered into a new and unknown land—has crossed the borders of a new country. He finds himself in a strange land—there are no familiar landmarks—he does not recognize the scene. He realizes the great distance between himself and the friends he has left at the foot of the hill. He cries aloud for them to follow him, but they can scarcely hear him, and seem to fear for his safety. They wave their arms, and beckon with their hands for him to return. They fear to follow him, and despair of his safety. But he seems possessed of a new courage, and a strange impulse within him urges him on and on. To what point he is traveling, he knows not, but a fierce joy takes possession of him, and he presses on and on and on.

After a bit, when he has traveled a particularly difficult bit of road, he comes to a turn of the path, and steps forward upon a broad bit of flat ground, which gives him a feeling of rest—he knows it as a stopping place—a stage for halting and observation. He finds that he has a wondrous view. On one side he can see those on the plains below, striving this way and that way in a pitiful manner—seeking to progress. Away back on various paths he sees men and women struggling on, and strange to say he instinctively feels and realizes that they are all seeking for the path upon which he has entered and which he has followed for a little way. On the other side he sees a beautiful, new country—a land of sunshine and brightness. He sees, afar off, groups of people, traveling up the higher paths of the journey, and, borne from afar, the sound of their voices reach him—they are singing with joy. He feels for the first time what the real “I” is. He recognizes both body and mind as useful instruments, tools, servants, but he has a distinct recognition of the “I” apart from them, and using them.

He becomes conscious of having always existed—existing now—and being intended for existence forever. He does not reason out these things—he knows them, just as before he had felt that he existed at any particular moment. The “I Am” has taken on a new meaning—has apparently grown, although he knows that it has not really grown, but that he for the first time has arrived at a stage of consciousness capable of recognizing himself as he is.

He knows that he has traveled a long road leading to his present position, and that he has a long journey before him, but from now on he will travel knowingly, and not blindly. He looks down and sees others covered with the mire and dust of the road, traveling on the plane below, but knowing that he too has traveled the same paths, he does not condemn them for the mire and dust. He has shared their journey with all its discomfort and dirt. He knows that he is in but the borderland of the Cosmic Knowing—and that beyond lie regions of marvelous beauty which in turn will be traveled. He sees endless phases of existence opening up to the vision.

The Soul when it reaches this stage, awakens, and sees itself as it is, in all its beauty—with all its wonderful possibilities. It feels a keen pleasure in existence—in the now. It feels itself to be a part of the whole—knows that the Universe is its home. It knows itself to be a tiny drop of Spirit from the Great Spirit Ocean—a ray from the Supreme Sun—a particle of Divine Being, encased in a material body, using that body and something called mind, with which to manifest itself. It frets not about the Past—it worries not about the Future. It realizes that it is and always will be, and therefore lives in the now. It knows that it cannot be injured or destroyed—that it exists in accordance with Law (and that Law is Good). It seeks no explanation, knowing that as the time comes, it will progress through matter, discarding sheath after sheath in its unfoldment, attaining greater and greater degrees of knowing.