Monthly Archives: June 2012

The Perennial Philosophy

Posted on by

Mystical practices, in contrast to faiths codified in written creeds, are based on direct, unmediated experience: knowing by being rather than by thinking and believing. In every age and culture, these esoteric spiritual paths have consistently directed practitioners to go within to discover their true nature and their place in the world. They share the belief that language, through its omnipresent and often unconscious role in defining our everyday reality, lies at the heart of our melancholy and alienation. While the practical value of language is beyond question, we fall into delusion when we mistake the map for the territory. When we see life through the prism of thought and conceptualization, division replaces wholeness. The symbols we use to communicate with each other must not be confused with the essential reality they represent. Serious seekers come to realize that it is our way of seeing the world that has caused our suffering, not the world itself.

This realization is reflected in a theme that appears over and over again in the mythology and sacred writings of humanity. It appears in the regions producing major civilizations, as well as in areas supporting the world’s indigenous populations. This theme, known as the Perennial Philosophy and popularized by Aldous Huxley’s book of the same title, is found at the core of the mystical, nondual forms of Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Sufism, Judaism, and Christianity. In one variation or another, it is also fundamental to the work of many great thinkers, such as Plotinus, Hegel, Teilhard de Chardin, and Sri Aurobindo, and is espoused by many others, from Plato, Spinoza, and Jung to William James, Alan Watts, and Ken Wilber.

The central thesis of the Perennial Philosophy claims that there is something hidden from us by the numberless names and forms of manifestation. The ground of our being is the formless elemental source of all things. It is not envisioned as the creator of the world, a deity to be worshipped, appeased, or obeyed; rather, it is what we are. While most belief systems are content to posit some form of relationship with the Divine, the Perennial Philosophy recognizes our identity with the divine source. Throughout the history of human spirituality, its message is unequivocal: we are That.

Inherent in this understanding is the belief that the preeminent purpose and desire of humankind is to find its way back to this fundamental origin of what is. In contrast to the external rewards—salvation, an afterlife—sought by believers in more traditional forms of religion, the Perennial Philosophy sees something within us that calls us back to our beginnings. It is not a return to something we left behind so much as a recognition of something that has always been. As it is impossible to attain that which we never lost, seekers must simply remember what is, and be the “suchness” that they are—in other words, experience directly the most basic fact of being alive in this very moment. This suchness, so often mentioned in the mystical wisdom traditions, is simply what always is, but often goes unnoticed in our busy days and thought-filled minds.

Who are you?

Posted on by

This seems to be a straightforward question, and one we have all answered countless times in our lives. We each have a personal story we know by heart and repeat often. It usually begins with the time and place of our birth, and where we went to school, and is followed with what we do for a living, if we are married or have any children, and so forth. Depending on who we are telling our story to, details about our interests, experiences, political views, religious affiliation, and retirement plans may be added to give a more complete picture. In our society, such sharing of personal information seems satisfactory and accurate to most everyone.

While such facts may be conventionally relevant, from the perspective of the world’s wisdom traditions they have nothing to do with your true nature. In the Buddhist tradition, for example, a question that teachers often pose to students is: “What is your original face before your grandparents were born?” This koan, or paradoxical riddle of sorts, insinuates a reality far deeper than the surface characteristics with which most people are preoccupied. It bypasses all the demographic data, everything we have learned, the personality we have developed, all the wealth we have amassed, and the many accomplishments we so eagerly show off. The perceived content of our lives is given no quarter in this question, and for that reason its meaning is beyond the reach of most who try to fathom it. But once our personal stories are dropped and our perceived importance forgotten, we can see that this ancient query is directing us to what we are, to what is—to life itself.

We are born of two mothers, given existence in two radically different ways. Our actual mother is life, and we are conceived in the human womb and nursed with the milk of wholeness. Our virtual mother is language; we are conceived in the thoughts and words of our people and nursed at the breast of our cultural and intellectual heritage. Ever after, we struggle with the conflicts and confusion that have plagued us all since our species learned to divide up what is and give names to its separate parts. The key to our spiritual dilemma is not to find God, but to find our true Self—to solve the riddle of our conflicted existence and to return to wholeness.