THE DROUGHT
Three companions sat together in friendly talk. One recalled a recently told story of an eyewitness about the instantaneous destruction of Quetta. How the people who returned from the theatre sat on the veranda, and suddenly there was heard a kind of cosmic rumbling and roaring; they rushed to the top of the steps and before their very eyes, in one instant, Quetta was destroyed. In this instantaneous destruction of a whole city and of almost fifty thousand victims, in the opening up of a new volcano were revealed one more cosmic tension and a warning.
Another companion recalled ancient signs from the Puranas, which predicted how entire cities will be destroyed, how the earth will dry up, how entire nations will die out, and other nations will return to the worship of the forces of nature. The man who reminded them of these prophecies at the end of Kali Yuga — the Dark Age — said: "Should we not confess that at present signs that were regarded but recently as fantastic, appear before our very eyes. Are not whole nations dying out? Is not the rate of deaths beginning to exceed the rate of births, a condition with which many governments are already battling? Do not certain nations return to the worship of the forces of nature? Precisely at this period are not unheard of droughts appearing, combined with all possible devastations? We have seen in magazines pictures of terrible, destructive storms, drifting sands, and devastating tornadoes. Not without reason, the more far-sighted governments sound the alarm, attempting to prevent terrible future calamities! Forests are disappearing, rivers are dying. Grasses are engulfed by sands. A terrible picture of a dead desert begins to threaten. In a self-deceiving madness many as yet do not pay attention to this unfortunate evidence. But the more far-sighted already think urgently about preventive measures, or at least of reducing the calamities. Could you say after all this evidence, that what was foreseen some time ago was incorrect?"
The third companion reminded them about biblical prophecies: "When the terrifying voices of Amos, Ezekiel, Isaiah, and other prophets thundered, probably their contemporaries laughed and derided them. One can imagine with what abominable, jeering revilement were insulted those whose words were eventually historically confirmed. Even now we know of not a few previsions which in their sensing of knowledge foresee the future.
"True, madmen and ignoramuses even today do not pay attention to all that is beyond their understanding, to all that threatens their mercenary advantage. But the broader thinking, true scientists have already attained the knowledge of thought transmission over a distance; they have already brought benefits to mankind through many wonderful discoveries. Yet how the ignoramuses derided these inventions which are commonly accepted at present! Edison was called a charlatan, the possibility and usefulness of the work of steam was rejected, railroads were scoffed at. One cannot enumerate all that was derided by the ignoramuses. One could trace in history to what an extent these derisions became not only a positive crown of thorns but also, as it were, an attestation to true progress."
The companions recalled various quite exact elucidations of the prophecies of Amos; they quoted significant statements from the Puranas, and also from historical chronicles.
A fourth companion, who had been sitting silently all this time, spoke up: "You all are croaking with your decrepit prophecies. My prophecy is far more correct. I said yesterday that stocks will go up and so they did. When and how your predictions will be fulfilled is still unknown, but mine is already in my pocket. Of what importance is it that some Quetta is destroyed! Maybe it will help my cement shares to rise. And the drought which you so bewail is it not useful? The more deserts the better. Humanity will rush to the cities, we shall feed them with patent remedies. My shares of a moving picture enterprise will go up. Look at these benefactors! Perhaps you will even think of reviving the deserts! You will drive away our city dwellers. Look at you now! You are satisfied with mineral water, no whiskey and soda, no smoking! Such miserable people, it is a bore to be with you! Such a simple thing as the more deserts, the more profit you do not understand and wave your hands! The more the people become maddened in the cities the more profitable it will be. Don't you understand this? Even if all your prophecies are fulfilled, when will it happen? I am not so old that "old lady Earth" will not still be here during my time!
"And it was not just anyone, but royalty who said, "After us, the deluge!" And about whom are you so concerned? About some future people? Perhaps they will be nothing but scoundrels! And why do you worry about someone, bowing somewhere to a stump? We will manufacture these slumps — ten thousand out of bronze! And if humanity shall drink or smoke itself to death, what upliftment will take place! I do not talk about your upliftments, but about mine, the real one! You, miserable people! Here you have a victrola, and yet it cannot be enjoyed. You have stored up such boredom that no human ear could stand it. You consider yourselves modern, and yet you have not provided yourselves either with jazz, or with the tango, foxtrot, or carioca, in short, with nothing real. To be with you is an evening lost."
Was there a fifth companion joining this conversation? Did he tell why droughts or narcotics could be useful? I do not know. But the fourth one soon left, apparently fearing that he might lose time in making decisions for tomorrow. In departing he even became angry, noticing that his other companions not only were not aroused by his words but even made some signs to each other as if saying, "There is living proof!" That is, not in a practical sense, but referring to current humanity.
Is it not striking that the problem of droughts during recent years has become quite urgent? Even all kinds of historic data about formerly existing irrigation systems is being recalled. Quite sensibly the natural science expeditions begin to include archaeologists who, because of their study of ancient data, help with the discoveries. Among the discoveries there are many that in all justice should be called re-discoveries, because while all this was known long ago, it was forgotten because of negligence. A recent newspaper report about the Golden Fleece of Colchis or about King Solomon's Mines speaks about the very same thing.
Vast is the drought of the soil. But still more vast is the spiritual drought. Let us hope that in the "irrigative" worries not only the irrigation of the soil but also the inspirations of the human spirit will be taken into consideration. Without these spiritual irrigations neither forest planting nor grass seeding, nor discovery of real sources will take place. All these most essential conditions will only come about when people shall actually realize them and, above all, love them. In love the quality of labor will be transformed. In love the deserts will bloom again.
Naran Obo
July 10, 1935
THE LETTER
In your letter you write about the new cultural undertakings. It is a joy to hear that in these clouded, tense days new works in the field of enlightenment are possible. The tension of the present time induces a special discrimination in people, according to their inner consciousness.
It is truly remarkable to observe how those who have seen and participated run away and deny; and those vessels that were filled by one stroke of lightning became powerful messengers. Once again it can be seen how opportunely such vessels are filled. They cannot be filled forcibly. If violence is applied they begin to splash about with irritation, and in such moments there always is the possibility of an obsession. I think that in your life no one compelled you to seek knowledge. In spite of all life's complexities you were striving unwaveringly to all Light, and carried with solicitude the lamps you lit.
Consideration and solicitude can be only partially cultivated. They both must be achieved through many accumulations. Is it not astonishing to see at times, in those people who were raised in very hard conditions, an unusual consideration and striving!
We all have had an opportunity to meet little children who, full of inner burning, were eagerly impelled toward a new person to learn something more. They already possessed inner accumulations, which only had to be crystallized. Each revealed flow of benevolence was indirectly propelled into the chalice of accumulations. Such children advance speedily! They succeed not only in mechanical knowledge but also in the cognition of all their surroundings.
Out of their ranks were formed unconquerable fighters on the true battlefield of Kurukshetra. There was nothing coarse or negligent in them; on the contrary, they were always ready for new assimilations, always valiant and vigilant, in the full glow of the spirit. This is certainly not an abstraction. Every one of us, during his life, has seen such examples and expressed astonishment as to how in some way, even in some forsaken hole, such bearers of enlightenment could be molded! Often, in big centers, with all facilities at hand and with the possibility of useful encounters, many remained simply vulgar people.
Truly, not because of coercion, but because of inner burning is success achieved. A possibility should be given, the windows should be opened, and the locked door opened to the knock, precisely to the knock, to the call. "Knock, and it shall be opened unto you." In this briefest expression is revealed the great principle of living ethics. No torpor will touch the living, exalted quest.
One often hears that someone became obsessed by darkness. These notions become rather commonplace. It is as if one learns that someone stumbled again, on the very same step, and put another lump upon his forehead. Of course, everyone will ask. Is he so forgetful that on the very same step he proved to be again so heedless? Does he like to get these lumps through his own efforts? And why, in general, exaggerate the successes of the dark forces? If we shall mentally acknowledge their special success, we will, by this token, give them new strength.
As it is, we do know that the dark forces are well organized and inventive. Nevertheless, let us not over-emphasize their omnipresence. The dark ones, in spite of their sinister attempts, are primarily limited. One should remember this property of theirs, because in it is contained their final defeat. They themselves are aware of their limitations and are quite afraid when this inescapable quality of theirs is noticed.
If someone insists upon the victory of the dark forces, suggest first of all that he examine that person who is being obsessed. Would it not be that he himself, due to his own irritation, or coarseness, or doubt — in other words, his own limitation — cultivated some thistles in which hide all kinds of devils?
You have a great accumulation of spiritual strength. You know how this reserve grew; how broadly, variedly, and courageously you sought these attainments.
Of course you will agree with me that it is harmful to exaggerate the qualities of the dark ones, even if it be only through mentally admitting the possibility of their influence. Therefore, let us set a task before us — to discuss the Forces of Light, ignoring all and any dark artifices. Involuntarily we will know about them and will even feel their jostling. But the fragments thrown around by them will be melted over again in the furnace of Good.
It is essential to dispel the darkness of ignorance. It is necessary to sweep out all rubbish. It is necessary daily to reestablish cleanliness — this is a simple law of hygiene. But he who sweeps out the dust does not think much about it, he simply removes the harmful germs.
I would like to emphasize that some people by exaggerating the impacts of the dark forces are trying, as it were, to vindicate themselves or their near ones who have fallen under the wing of darkness. However, there could be no vindication for this. One may regret and await the hour when he who was obsessed, suddenly, in the light of the sun or of a flash of lightning, will have a glimpse of consciousness, realizing that the union with darkness is, above all, perilous.
As soon as such a realization shall knock at the crown of the head, the obsessed one will begin to tremble and will rush to open the windows and knock with all his might to attain knowledge. Where he but recently was coarse and mute before all rapture, there his heart will begin in a new tremor to harken to benevolent and uplifting thoughts and words.
Chiefly, it is necessary to refrain from all prejudices. With all their torpor they impress upon the mind preconceived, unjust, limited considerations. If one were to write the history of every prejudice, its forefather would prove to be a man very weak, wavering, and frantically irritable. Prejudice, as such, is already something unjust. This is not, after all, prescience, but precisely piejudice — something devised, and devised only for some humiliation or distortion, because of selfishness.
Anyone who is impelled to distortion will not be a faithful person. And yet fidelity is so greatly needed, faith is so greatly needed, for transmutation and an approach to great reality. Fidelity is always a true adornment. Fidelity has been glorified by the best poetic symbols — benevolent fidelity, self-sacrificing fidelity, heroism.
Letters pass through all kinds of unfaithful hands. But let them read once again about fidelity, about good and the Forces of Light. In a recent letter from a very fine man precisely this thought was expressed. Let the letters be opened. Let someone else read the words about good, about construction. Perhaps, if he has sunk too far into darkness, they will only invoke in him a furious grimace of terror; but may be his heart will not as yet have completely turned to stone, and it will sigh about Knowledge, about Construction, about Beauty.
Naran Obo
July 12, 1935
REGENERATION
I am very glad to hear of your hearty response to my musings about the true annals of Russian art. You told me some time ago that in some of my articles you read, as it were, your own thoughts. I could say the very same about some of your essays, which are not only close to me in spirit but also in their imagery. I can only quote here the thoughts from your last letter which are very close to me:
"Recently I was riding in a taxi on Mostovaya Street toward Kitaiskaya Street. I saw a couple walking on the street, a husband and wife. I looked at them, got out at the corner of Kitaiskaya Street, and got ahead of them. When I got out I thought, 'Now, I know the future. Just at this moment this very same couple will walk out of a crowd of strangers. And so it happened. It means that the thought I had on the corner of Kitaiskaya and Mostovaya Streets that I will see them — had become reality. It is an unimportant case, but it has clearly proved to me that the idea, i.e., idein (in Greek), is that which will be. From this point of view the writings of Blok are exceedingly profound — he saw that which was to be."
This is true, but difficult for the general public to grasp, just as it was difficult for Leibnitz to realize that the body, besides extensibility also possesses force. If the substance of the body were to be extensible alone, then every paper bag would be a stone. And yet, a stone is something different from a bag. Nevertheless, Descartes and others taught that the substance of the body is extensible; it was difficult for them to break away from a habitual trend of thought. It is everywhere the same — thought is very arduous.
"However, artists, who think in images, know this idea well; imagery is, as a rule, the beginning of knowledge, and therefore the history of Russia's culture is recorded in the magnificent images which actually have permeated the history of her art."
These are approximately the thoughts which have been burning in my mind for a long time, and which I recalled, reading your letter of June 6th. Life goes on, embodying ideas, and ideas lead it on. It is possible that the Idea of Ideas, according to Plato, is that good which is incarnated in life. But in the Russian, so-called intellectual consciousness, which lies in the domain of discursive, rending, atomizing thinking, an image is regarded as something alien. This is the reason why the Russian intelligentsia of prerevolutionary type is estranged from the people who think in images. And the folk images in art, music, and literature are magnificent.
This is why "The Annals of Russian Art" must be created in a manner that will make them at the same time the annals of Russian history — history of the past as well as of the future. The West became walled up in its stone houses, Roman law, and other things. Only in Russia do unprecedented vistas resound in space and time.
What do we Russians need? The cognition and realization of that which is real, which lives in our soul. Otherwise we are "close to bread but without it."
Precisely, we should think about regeneration. No matter where we may be, everywhere we should unite in thoughts about renewal, about the best. These thoughts, arising simultaneously in different parts of the world, create a powerful atmosphere. But mutually devouring thoughts should not be allowed. And where the heart truly aspires to benevolent striving, there cannot be base mutual devouring.
Regeneration is natural evolution. Either suppuration takes place or the flowering of regeneration. If we know that one cannot stand on one spot, then each thought about renewal will already become a constructive stone for the future. Indeed, the annals of art, the annals of creative-ness will also be the annals of culture. It cannot be otherwise, because creativeness is the expression of the meaning of life.
In thoughts about regeneration let us not burden each other with any kind of insistency and premeditation. He who thinks about natural regeneration, knows all the conditions that could bring it about. Natural conditions of good are uniform in their essence. Therefore there could not be any absurd, unfounded, groundless disagreements where the one and only foundation is spoken about.
Only to those who can feel alienated from each other is the sole, propelling basis of self-perfectment not clear. People who do not feel this foundation will never understand that the annals of creativeness, in other words, annals of culture must be thought of at all times. One should not think that these annals will be compiled only in complete well-being, and more so since the very concept of "well-being" is quite arbitrary.
A reflection about culture is a deposit into a treasury, a sacred testimony about the true achievements of mankind. Therefore these thoughts must always be evaluated, amidst all conditions. And when they appear amidst especially difficult conditions, then they are especially valuable. But who knows why each one is entrusted with being on watch in that or another place? We could suppose in a purely human way that it would be better "not here, but over there." And yet, maybe the watch is entrusted precisely here. Therefore, let us accept this watch in complete readiness, while aspiring in our heart toward the longed for regeneration.
Let us not think that that which we place upon the heart is far from attainment. If we shall not retreat, if we shall manifest courage .in everything, if, in spite of all sorts of Judases and Pilates, the good and the useful shall be uncontestable, then all that is sacred in the heart will blossom in life. When we think about creativeness, it means that we apply our thought to the most practical. And this, applied in life, will also advance ways of accomplishment. Because at this moment we do not as yet know where and how the annals of Russian culture will grow, this does not mean that we should not concentrate upon this thought. On the contrary, we should find within ourselves, and in our associations, in our cooperations, and in the whole world, the best ways toward it.
In the expanses of the desert, in the lonely crowdedness of the city, in the sandstorm, in the flood, in thunder and lightning, let us hold in the heart the thought that must be realized — about the annals of Russian art, about the annals of Russian culture — in the beautiful and authentic images of all the people.
Naran Obo
July 14, 1935
SEALS
Much is said about the ancient Chinese seals that have been found in Ireland. The antiquity of these seals is attributed to several centuries before out era, and some even think several thousands of years. On the basis of these seals is debated the question of the ancient relations of Ireland with China. Others observe that there could have been an intermediary point in Egypt or Crete, who had longstanding dealings with both the Far East and the British Isles when the latter served as the source of certain metals.
Indeed, all such questions require many confirmations and additional facts, but, nevertheless, the discovery of ancient Chinese seals in Ireland again reminds us about the extent of long-distance communications already in the most remote times. Long ago we had occasion to find amber from Konigsberg in kurgans1 of the Stone Age in Central Russia. Thus are proven, already before the knowledge of metals, the relations over extensive distances in neolithic times.
All archaeological findings, the uniformity of many discovered types, and, finally, the details of ornament, rituals, and other elements of the way of life indicate not only a uniformity of the feelings common to man but also unquestionable relations across long distances. The similarity of the alphabet discovered not long ago in Harappa, India, to inscriptions on Easter Island also indicates noteworthy international relations many centuries before our era.
Without any difficulty it is possible to discern how periods lasting for ages confirm the development of international relations and then, as it were, there appears a strange tribal forgetfulness, a timorous immobility, and the memory of former relations is wiped away. In itself the memory of peoples represents an extraordinarily interesting phenomena. To contemporary man it sometimes seems completely inadmissible that entire peoples could in some way forget something already fully known to them. And yet the facts and allusions in ancient chronicles indicate the possibility of just such strange forgetfulness.
Many completely lost technical methods of Egypt, the existence of gunpowder in ancient China, the details of various lost techniques of Babylon, certain objects of the Mayan culture — all this reminds one that, incomprehensibly, very essential discoveries have been entirely forgotten at a later date. Moreover, such forgetfulness does not always coincide with epochs of renaissance or decline. It is precisely as if some other psychological or even physiological factors altered the flow of the current of the peoples' thought.
Amidst all the misunderstandings and presuppositions, the question of the most ancient international relations always proves to be very complicated, yet of special interest from a universal point of view. The discovery of objects of definite antiquity in remote countries is a material sign of some communication, and all the more so when the objects are found in ethnographically old strata, which actually belong to a former flow of life. Something extremely inspiring is contained in these substantial signs, which in reality are embodied in these seals of national relations.
And again, at present in certain countries inertness and immobility are so clearly evidenced that there are inhabitants of some cities who are proud of the fact that they have never had to go beyond the limits of their native city or that they have even succeeded in never crossing a river which flows through the city. There are all sorts of odd people. And among the strangest oddities such a prejudice against mobility always remains one of the most shocking. Yet what a great number of people exist who have never looked beyond the limits of their own country! Only in recent years has travel re-entered, as it were, the program of self-education. Whereas from remote antiquity voices have been borne to us calling out about the usefulness of travel and of international knowledge.
The celebrated, everlastingly mentioned Marco Polo must be looked upon as a collective name. Frequently, by this name are meant the infinite number of travelers who have been the bearers of international relations. The name of Marco Polo has become firmly fixed in history, but actually a great number of names of people traversing ancient beaten paths remain unknown. But that is not the point. Of course any historic name becomes not so much a name as a concept. In like manner, on the ancient discovered objects we see seals incomprehensible to us, which serve as conventional signs for ire, yet which were formerly the private seals of some commercial houses or enterprises, or of definite individuals.
Each reminder about international relations is, as it were, a new seal upon a universal human peace treaty. Not so long ago in London a certain Spaniard, Madariaga, delivered quite a pompous speech about the price of peace. Such bombastic abstractions are not the material signs of peace, but are, principally, material seals of world relations.
People are actually thinking about peace; some self-interestedly, others selflessly. In all cases some kind of sign is required, the actual seal of the fact that aside from human violence and hatred peaceful relations have been possible in different domains of business.
The price of peace is determined by living human dignity, by benevolence of heart, broadly embracing and noble. Not by denials of cultural treasures but by recognition of the creativeness of good is the price of peace determined and established.
Archaeology, as a science based on material memorials, is recognized at present as assisting in many scientific and social considerations. And, likewise, into the question of the price of peace archaeology can bring many most valuable signs. From long forgotten ruins, from abandoned burial places and the remains of palaces and strongholds material proofs of peaceful international relations can be adduced. In almost worn away historical writings, in an ancient hieroglyph, the story reaches one's ears about how, in fragile boats and on wearied horses, man penetrated remote regions not only in warlike fury but also in a benevolent desire for peaceful exchange. These narratives will be stamped, as it were, with material seals, ratifying human peace treaties.
In the creativeness of good it is always possible to come to terms; only in a paroxysm of malice or of dark misanthropy are peaceful advances impossible. Long ago it was said in various tongues that he who raises the sword will perish by the sword, and he will perish at a preordained hour which perhaps will be quite unexpected by him. And so it is in each quarrel and in each dissension.
The seals did not ratify quarrelsome contracts. The seals were affixed to a document of some relations, of some commercial agreement. Yet, in each true businesslike procedure there will be the element of peace. A victory through good will be a most radiant and striking victory. It is possible to kill with the sting of a serpent, but not to conquer, for to conquer should also mean to convince. Regarding such prices of peace, let us refer carefully to all material signs. It would have seemed inordinate to connect Easter Island with Harappa in India, or now Ireland with China. Yet what is impossible at present? A seal or a depicted hieroglyph is fully convincing. "Peace on earth, good will toward man" is also substantial, for good will is engendered in the heart. And what is more substantial than the human heart, with all its inspired beating?
Man should rejoice at seals of peaceful relations. Each sign of remote international agreements is a pledge of the possibility of future treaties, heartfelt and unbreakable. At one time savage warriors devoured the hearts of the vanquished, but now in each peaceful relationship let people remember about the living heart. The seals of antiquity are for the future.
Timur Hada
July 18, 1935
1 Barrows of the Russian steppes.
ESSENTIAL NATURE
In the ancient cathedral of Orvieto, on the frescoes by Orcagna, are depicted solemn, joyous ascensions of the righteous into the heavenly realm. Under them demons are dragging the sinners by the hair to the tortures of hell. Angels do not haul anyone into paradise forcibly, by the hair. Only into hell is one dragged by the hair, by force. The ancient proverb "one does not drag by the hair into paradise" has a deep and ever memorable significance. Verily, one cannot haul anyone by force into paradise.
All that is unnatural is contrary to nature. Likewise, this is so regarding the degrees of ascent. Only those can fit in who, in one way or another, have already accepted this order in their consciousness. If someone, for some reason, cannot breathe in the mountain air, you cannot force him to go against his nature. The oxygen tank will help only briefly. In any event, it will not help so much as it will give the illusion of help. As soon as the artificial oxygen comes to an end, its lack will be felt tenfold.
If someone's blood vessels burst because of the altitude, it means that he could not exist on these heights. His nature proved unadaptable to them. May be with the aid of lengthy, gradual, fully understood exercises, the circulation could adjust itself to the new existence. But one should not forcibly, suddenly burden a nature that is not adapted to many and lengthy experiments.
All artificial, or properly speaking, forced measures usually produce a crude reaction, a destructive rebellion which does not do any good. Naturalness lies in true co-measurement and systematic planning. Rebellions arise also because of various degrees of consciousness. True, one may observe quite conscious rebellions as expressions measured and planned for a contemplated goal. But more often this may be simply called a rebellion of crude matter which in general opposes the possibility of natural improvements. The rebel often will not give any definite answer as to why and, chiefly, for what he rebels and attempts to crush something not quite explicit to him. He simply tries to unsettle something which he thinks hinders him. But due to inexperience or rather, ignorance, he, desiring to break up something, inflicts terrible and at limes deadly blows primarily upon himself.
It will be a weak excuse if certain exterior circumstances or some kind of heredity disturb the nature in its normal systematic growth. Self-vindication means self-deception. Not without reason did this become a proverb: "He who excuses himself accuses himself." There is also another proverb, for some reason referring to Jupiter: "Jupiter, thou art angry, it means thou art wrong." Of course, under this "anger" one should understand not just sternness, but jarring, foul-mouthed bombast.
When advice is given to carefully preserve one's essential nature this does not mean that one should avoid all danger, all possibility of achievement. Guarding the essence is not an impediment to self-sacrifice and heroic action. Under the preservation of one's essence must be understood the discovery of all possibilities for perfectment and for improvement. Indeed, in this procedure the essence will be directed naturally. Through all the subtlest means one can be reminded about this natural path. But it is unwise even partially to use force if certain matters contrary to ascent are not yet outlived.
A wise teacher will never compel anyone to read certain books. He may offer an opportunity to become acquainted with useful sources, but he will not force, even indirectly. And what good would it do if that which is read is accepted under a stigma of ill will or distrust? Proofs of this are book reviews. You will feel at once which review is unprejudiced, written with a frank desire to clarify the work, and also when the review was conceived with an obscure prejudice, to tell not what was written but precisely what was not written. Prejudice is an antagonist and a destroyer of the essence. If for some reason the heart, this treasury of the essence, appears to be sealed or filled with pus, then no natural, just judgment can arise. Darkness will whisper a multitude of doubts and perplexities, which could be solved even by a child's brain. And darkness puts on a strong lock.
Of course, all kinds of narcotics, from the most deadly to the commonly accepted ones, are an impediment to and distortion of nature. The doses of such narcotics are indeed quite varied. You may often hear an observation that even a great quantity of narcotics did not prove to have a visible influence upon one's neighbor. To begin with, what is "visible," and for what kind of an eye is it visible? And in the second place, we do not know to what an extent this neighbor was armed with his own, different accumulations. In general, the use of narcotics proves that the will has been weakened, in oilier words, an unnatural condition of the nature.
The essence is disbursed quite systematically and justly. People themselves attempt to distort and demean it. The preservation of the essence is neither magic nor something supernatural. On the contrary, this condition is most natural. In it the will is strengthened in a natural manner, psychic energy is developed and applied naturally. Why turn to some unnatural conjurations where the most natural and fecund order of perfectment is possible? Above all, benevolent creativeness, in all its applications, will also be a natural expression of life. Furthermore, all liberation from coarseness and prejudice will be the best aid in the preservation of the essence.
The essence should not be understood only materially. Since matter is only one of the properties of the spirit, the essence appears to define all natural conditions. The heart works naturally when we do not notice it. All other organs, although performing the most complex chemical work, accomplish this unnoticeably. Likewise, the natural condition of the essence will be beneficent and unnoticeable. Like the highest tension of electricity, it will spread beneficially, but the ordinary eye and the ordinary ear will not notice it. Thus, it is obvious that all violence, all withdrawal from a natural condition are inapplicable.
Often considerable time, and striving toward an immediate improvement, are needed. Often there may occur flashes accumulated long before but forgotten in the recesses of matter; many possibilities are given — they should only be adopted! Often the very intensity of labor or life's obstacles bring the consciousness to the natural path. Not without reason is the benefit of the sweat of labor often pointed out. And yet, the sweat can be understood in different ways, crudely and also spiritually.
Doors and windows must be opened benevolently. The ways should not be barred by poisonous gases. Death-bearing missiles should not fall from the heavens. Not with cannon fire can the essence of good be brought back. It is a joy to think about the good essence — destined for good. One may join in a hearty discussion about all that leads to creativeness for good. Let us not fear accumulation and repetition of the definitions of good. Good is needed. Good is urgent. The vault of heaven is supported by good.
Timur Hada
August 5, 1935