I opened the book. It was getting late, and I was tired too, but I pulled myself together. I knew full well that heavy reading awaited me. In the Light of the Ember of Truth is a philosophical work, at times hard to follow, though instructive even so. Often the text is dry, at other times it takes flight and sweeps you along. Not the story, for philosophy and story do not necessarily go together, but the splendid current of thought.
The Path to the Self… What a chapter title! Yes, the self! So many people, so many ways of understanding it. For some it is an impersonal principle, for others the goal of self-realisation. For some it is being, for some consciousness. For me it is bliss, for after all the final word can be nothing other than bliss and love.
Thus let the master speak:… But who is speaking, then? It is usually the masters who speak, and now the master is being instructed? Then this is a handbook for teachers, isn't it? How strange.
… In the city of the Soul there is a small dwelling (the body), in it a small lotus flower (the heart), and in that a small space. What lies hidden in this little space, that must be searched for, that must be recognised! And if they ask: ‘But what is it that lies hidden in it, what must be searched for, what must be known?’ Let him answer thus: ‘As vast as outer space is, so vast is this hollow of the heart. It holds Heaven and Earth, fire and wind, the Sun and the Moon, lightning and the stars, and it embraces all that exists on Earth, or that is yet to be.’
How poetic! Without and within, above and below, everything is connected with everything. In the drop lies the whole sea… This secret nook of the heart – is it really as vast as the universe? And does it hold everything, everything? Of course, it is said that man is a small universe, and the universe a vast living body… But how does everything fit in?
And if they ask: ‘If this city of the Soul holds everything, all beings and all desires, what remains of them when old age seizes it and it perishes?’
Well, yes, mortality. Pleasing thoughts come to an end one day. Old age, when I forget everything, and decay, when they forget me… Not pleasant.
Let him answer thus: ‘The soul does not age with the body. Even if they slay the body, they cannot slay it. This is the true city of the Soul, and not the body, this is what holds all desires within it. This is the Soul, sinless, ageless, immortal, free from suffering, hunger and thirst – its desire is true, its resolve is true.’
Is the small soul the city of the great Soul? Separately, or together? It would hardly be logical for the body to house the divine Spirit, so how much more exciting that the human soul should be the home of the great Spirit? How do they put it, the spark and the fire? Both burn, and in this they are one. The essence of the spark is fire, but the essence of fire is not the spark… Its desire is true – that is, it is true-desiring, desiring what is real. This can be none other than the small soul, for the great Spirit is reality itself, so why would it desire itself? I think the desires of one who is true-desiring are no longer of this world. It can only be that these desires – if they can still be called desires at all – are turned towards ultimate reality. If one of them is true-desiring, or of true desire, then the other will be of true resolve, whose intention always comes true. Whatever the one of true resolve decides is fulfilled without any special effort. Well, that is not me.
And as here on Earth all that man has won by his effort perishes, so too perishes all that he may gain in a better world in return for his sacrifices. Therefore whoever departs this world without having known the Spirit, and without being true-desiring, will be free in no world. But whoever departs this world having known the Spirit, and being true-desiring, will be free in any world.
I believe, yes, I believe that the soul dwelling in the heart is overtaken by neither death nor corruption. The wind of temptation strikes it, but cannot rob it of its light. True-desiring, it is no longer deceived by illusion. And if it recognises God as well, then it becomes free. It does not chase the illusion of worldly existence – how wise! It is not content with the copy, it wants the original. Once it has given itself to the Truth, it no longer lives its own life, no longer lives for itself: I am yours… And from the eye of love not even God can hide: … and you are mine. An almighty God and his surrendered devotee – the two together are invincible. Perhaps it is in this sense that the mystic poet is right: ‘I know that without me God draws not a single breath, / And if I perish, his flame flickers out.’ (Angelus Silesius)