The
Eye of the Spirit
An
Integral Vision for a World Gone Slightly Mad [Abridged]
Ken
Wilber
Chapter
1:
The
Spectrum of Consciousness: Integral Psychology and the Perennial
Philosophy
Biological and medical scientists are now in the midst of intensive
work
on the Human Genome Project, the endeavor to map all of the genes in
the
entire sequence of human DNA. This spectacular project promises to
revolutionize
our ideas of human growth, development, disease, and medical treatment,
and its completion will surely mark one of the great advances in human
knowledge.
Not as well known, but arguably more important, is what might be called
the Human Consciousness Project, the endeavor, now well under
way,
to map the entire spectrum of human consciousness (including, as well,
realms of the human unconscious). This Human Consciousness Project,
involving
hundreds of researchers from around the world, includes a series of
multidisciplinary, multicultural, multimodal approaches that together
promise
an exhaustive mapping the entire range of consciousness, the entire
sequence
of the "genes" of awareness, as it were.
These various attempts are rapidly converging on a "master template" of
the various stages, structures, and states of consciousness available
to
men and women. By comparing and contrasting various multicultural
approaches--from
Zen Buddhism to Western psychoanalysis, from Vedanta Hinduism to
existential
phenomenology, from Tundra Shamanism to altered states--these
approaches
are rapidly piecing together a master template--a spectrum of
consciousness--using
the various approaches to fill in any gaps left by the others.
Although many of the specifics are still being intensively researched,
the
overall evidence for the existence of this spectrum of consciousness is
already so significant as to put it largely beyond serious dispute. The
"master template" that is emerging from this modern research is
therefore
able to honor and connect with the essence of the world's wisdom
traditions,
while simultaneously attempting to update and modernize their insights
where appropriate. The goal of the integral approach is thus a
judicious
blend of ancient wisdom and modern knowledge.
Known as the "perennial philosophy"--"perennial"
precisely because it shows up across cultures and across the ages
with
many similar features--this world view has, indeed, formed the
core not only of the world's great wisdom traditions, from
Christianity
to Buddhism to Taoism, but also of many of the greatest philosophers,
scientists,
and psychologists of both East and West, North and South. So
overwhelmingly
widespread is the perennial philosophy--the details of which I will
explain
in a moment--that it is either the single greatest intellectual error
ever
to appear in humankind's history--an error so colossally widespread as
to literally stagger the mind--or it is the single most accurate
reflection
of reality yet to appear.
Central to the perennial philosophy is the notion of the
Great
Chain of Being. The idea itself is fairly simple. Reality,
according
to the perennial philosophy, is not one-dimensional; it is not a
flatland
of uniform substance stretching monotonously before the eye. Rather, reality
is composed of several different but continuous dimensions. Manifest
reality,
that is, consists of different grades or levels, reaching from the
lowest
and most dense and least conscious to the highest and most subtle and
most
conscious. At one end of this continuum of being or spectrum of
consciousness
is what we in the West would call "matter" or the insentient and the
nonconscious,
and at the other end is "spirit" or "godhead" or the "superconscious"
(which
is also said to be the all-pervading ground of the entire sequence, as
we will see).
The
central claim of the perennial philosophy is that men and women can
grow and develop (or evolve) all the way up the hierarchy to Spirit
itself,
therein to realize a "supreme identity"
with
Godhead--the ens perfectissimum toward which all growth and
evolution
yearns.
But as used by the perennial philosophy--and indeed, as used in modern
psychology, evolutionary theory, and systems theory--a hierarchy is
simply
a ranking of orders of events according to their holistic capacity. In
any developmental sequence, what is whole at one stage becomes merely a
part of a larger whole at the next stage. A letter is part of a whole
word,
which is part of a whole sentence, which is part of a whole paragraph,
and so on. Arthur Koestler coined the term "holon"
to refer to that which, being a whole in one context, is a part of
a
wider whole in another. With reference to the phrase "the
bark
of a dog," for example, the word "bark" is a whole with reference to
its
individual letters, but a part with reference to the phrase itself. And
the whole (or the context) can determine the meaning and function of a
part--the meaning of "bark" is different in the phrases "the bark of a
dog" and "the bark of a tree." The whole, in other words, is more than
the sum of its parts, and that whole can influence and determine, in
many
cases, the function of its parts.
Hierarchy,
then, is simply an order of increasing holons, representing an increase
in wholeness and integrative capacity. This is why hierarchy is so
central
to systems theory, the theory of wholeness or holism ("wholism"). And
it
is absolutely central to the perennial philosophy. Each
expanding
link in the Great Chain of Being represents an increase in unity and
wider
identities, from the isolated identity of the body through the social
and
communal identity of the mind to the supreme identity of Spirit, an
identity
with literally all manifestation. This is why the great hierarchy of
being
is often drawn as a series of concentric circles or spheres or "nests
within
nests." As we will see, the Great Chain is actually the Great Nest of
Being.
And finally, hierarchy is asymmetrical (or a "higher"-archy) because
the
process does not occur in the reverse. For example, there are first
letters,
then words, then sentences, then paragraphs, but not vice versa. And
that
not vice versa constitutes an unavoidable hierarchy or ranking or
asymmetrical
order of increasing wholeness.
In any developmental or growth sequence, as a more encompassing stage
or
holon emerges, it includes the capacities and patterns and functions of
the previous stage (i.e., of the previous holons), and then adds its
own
unique (and more encompassing) capacities. In that sense, and that
sense
only, can the new and more encompassing holon be said to be "higher" or
"wider." Whatever the important value of the previous stage, the new
stage
has all of that plus something extra (more integrative capacity, for
example),
and that "something extra" means "extra value" relative to the previous
(and less encompassing) stage. This crucial definition of a "higher
stage"
was first introduced in the West by Aristotle and in the East by
Shankara
and Lieh-Tzu; it has been central to the perennial philosophy ever
since.
As Hegel first put it, and as developmentalists have echoed ever since,
each stage is adequate and valuable, but each higher stage is more
adequate,
and, in that sense only, more valuable (which always means, more
holistic).
It is for all these reasons that Koestler, after noting that all
complex
hierarchies are composed of holons, or increasing orders of wholeness,
pointed out that the correct word for "hierarchy" is actually
holarchy.
So that is normal or natural holarchy, the stage-like unfolding of
larger
networks of increasing wholeness, with the larger or wider wholes being
able to exert influence over the lower-order wholes. And as natural,
desirable,
and unavoidable as that is, you can already start to see how
holoarchies
might turn pathological. If the higher levels can exert control over
the
lower levels, they can also over-dominate or even repress and alienate
the lower levels. That leads to a whole host of pathological
difficulties,
in both the individual and society at large.
It is precisely because the world is arranged holarchically, precisely
because it contains fields within fields within fields, that things can
go so profoundly wrong, that a disruption or pathology in one field can
reverberate throughout an entire system. And the "cure" for this
pathology,
in all cases, is the essentially the same: rooting out the pathological
holons so the holarchy itself can return to harmony. The cure does not
consist, as the reductionists maintain, in getting rid of holarchy per
se, since, even if that were possible, it would simply result in a
uniform,
one-dimensional flatland of no value distinctions at all (which is why
those critics who toss out hierarchy in general immediately replace it
with a new scale of values of their own, i.e., with their own
particular
hierarchy).
Rather, the "cure" of any diseased system consists in rooting out any
holons
that have usurped their position in the overall system by abusing their
power of upward or downward causation. This is exactly the "cure" we
see
at work in psychoanalysis (shadow holons refuse integration),
democratic
social revolutions (monarchical or fascist holons oppress the body
politic),
medical science interventions (cancerous holons invade a benign
system),
critical social theory (opaque ideology usurps open communication),
radical
feminist critiques (patriarchal holons dominate the public sphere), and
so on. It is not getting rid of holarchy per se, but arresting (and
integrating)
their arrogant holons.
Which brings us to the most notorious paradox
in the perennial philosophy. We have seen that the wisdom
traditions subscribe to the notion that reality manifests in levels or
dimensions, with each higher dimension being more inclusive and
therefore
"closer" to the absolute totality of Godhead or Spirit. In this sense,
Spirit is the summit of being, the highest rung on the ladder of
evolution.
But it is also true that Spirit is the wood out of which the entire
ladder
and all its rungs are made. Spirit is the suchness, the isness, the
essence
of each and everything that exists.
The first aspect, the highest-rung aspect, is the transcendental
nature of Spirit--it far surpasses any "worldly" or creaturely or
finite
things. The entire earth (or even universe) could be destroyed, and
Spirit
would remain. The second aspect, the wood aspect, is the immanent
nature
of Spirit--Spirit is equally and totally present in all manifest things
and events, in nature, in culture, in heaven and on earth, with no
partiality.
From this angle, no phenomenon whatsoever is closer to Spirit than
another,
for all are equally "made of" Spirit. Thus, Spirit is both the highest
goal of all development and evolution, and the ground of the entire
sequence,
as present fully at the beginning as at the end. Spirit is prior
to this world, but not other to this world.
Failure
to take both of those paradoxical aspects of Spirit into account has
historically
led to some very lopsided (and politically dangerous) views of Spirit.
Traditionally, the patriarchal religions have tended to over-emphasize
the transcendental nature of Spirit, thus condemning earth, nature,
body,
and woman to an inferior status. Prior to that, the matriarchal
religions
tended to emphasize the immanent nature of Spirit alone, and the
resultant
pantheistic worldview equated the finite and created Earth with the
infinite
and uncreated Spirit. You are free to identify with a finite and
limited
Earth; you are not free to call it the infinite and unlimited.
Both matriarchal and patriarchal religions, both of these lopsided
views
of Spirit, have had rather horrible historical consequences, from
brutal
and large-scale human sacrifice for the fertility of the earth Goddess
to wholesale war for God the Father. But in the very midst of these
outward
distortions, the perennial philosophy (the esoteric or inner core of
the
wisdom religions) has always avoided any of those dualities--Heaven or
Earth, masculine or feminine, infinite or finite, ascetic or
celebratory--and
centered instead on their union or integration ("nondualism"). And
indeed,
this union of Heaven and Earth, masculine and feminine, infinite and
finite,
ascending and descending, wisdom and compassion, was made explicit in
the
"tantric" teachings of the various wisdom traditions, from Neoplatonism
in the West to Vajrayana in the East. And it is this nondual core of
the
wisdom traditions to which the term "perennial philosophy" most
applies.
The point, then, is that if we are to try to think of Spirit in mental
terms (which necessarily involves some difficulties), then at least we
should remember this transcendent/immanent paradox. Paradox is simply
the
way nonduality looks to the mental level. Spirit itself is not
paradoxical;
strictly speaking, it is not characterizable at all.
This applies doubly to hierarchy (holarchy). We have said that when
transcendental
Spirit manifests itself, it does so in stages or levels--the Great
Holarchy
of Being. But I'm not saying Spirit or reality itself is hierarchical.
Absolute
Spirit or reality is not hierarchical. It is not qualifiable at
all in mental terms (lower-holon terms)--it is shunyata, or nirguna, or
apophatic--unqualifiable, without a trace of specific and limiting
characteristics
at all. But it manifests itself in steps, in layers, dimensions,
sheaths,
levels, or grades--whatever term one prefers--and that is holarchy.
The whole point is that these are levels of the manifest world,
of
maya. When maya is not recognized as the play of the Divine, then
it
is nothing but illusion. Hierarchy is illusion. There are levels of
illusion, not levels of reality. But according to the traditions,
it
is exactly (and only) by understanding the hierarchical nature of
samsara
that we can in fact climb out of it, a ladder discarded only after
having
served its extraordinary purpose.
So
"soul" is both the highest level of individual growth we can achieve,
and
also the final barrier, the final knot, to complete enlightenment or
supreme
identity, simply because as transcendental witness it stands back from
everything it witnesses. Once we push through the witness position,
then
the soul or witness itself dissolves and there is only the play of
nondual
awareness, awareness that does not look at objects but is completely
one
with all objects (Zen says "it is like tasting the sky"). The gap
between
subject and object collapses, the soul is transcended or dissolved, and
pure spiritual or nondual awareness--which is very simple, very
obvious,
very clear--arises. You realize that your intrinsic being is vast and
open,
empty and clear, and everything arising anywhere is arising within you,
as intrinsic spirit, spontaneously.
And so we can end on a happy note: After being temporarily derailed
in the 19th century by a variety of materialistic reductionisms (from
scientific materialism to behaviorism to positivism), the Great Chain
of
Being, the Great Holarchy of Being, is making a stunning comeback. That
temporary derailment--an attempt to reduce the holarchy of being to its
lowest level, matter--was particularly galling in psychology, which
first
lost its spirit, then lost its soul, then lost its mind, and was
reduced
to studying only empirical behavior or bodily drives, a restriction
that
at any other time or place would be considered a precise definition of
insanity.
But
now evolutionary holarchy--the holistic study of the development and
self-organization
of fields within fields within fields--is once again a dominant theme
in
many scientific and behavioral disciplines (as we will see), though
it goes by many names (Aristotle's "entelechy," to give only one
example,
is now known as "morphogenetic
fields"
and "self-organizing systems"). This is not to say that the modern
versions
of the Great Holarchy and its self-organizing principles offer no new
insights,
for they do, particularly when it comes to the actual evolutionary
unfolding
of the Great Chain itself. Each glimpse of the Great Holarchy is
adequate;
each advancing glimpse is more adequate. . . .
But
the essentials are unmistakable. Ludwig von Bertalanffy, the
founder
of General System Theory, summarized it perfectly: "Reality, in the
modern
conception, appears as a tremendous hierarchical order of organized
entities,
leading, in a superposition of many levels, from physical and chemical
to biological and sociological systems. Such hierarchical structure and
combination into systems of ever higher order, is characteristic of
reality
as a whole and of fundamental importance especially in biology,
psychology
and sociology."
There is, really, only one major thing left to be done, one fundamental
item on the homecoming agenda. While it is true, as I said, that one of
the unifying paradigms in modern thought, from physics to biology to
psychology
to sociology, is evolutionary holarchy (see, for example, Laszlo,
Jantsch,
Habermas, Lenski, Dennett), nonetheless most orthodox schools of
inquiry
admit the existence only of matter, body, and mind.2 The higher
dimensions
of soul and spirit are not yet accorded quite the same status. We might
say that the modern West has still only acknowledged three fifths of
the
Great Holarchy of Being. The agenda, very simply, is to reintroduce
the other two fifths (soul and spirit).
Once we recognize and honor all the levels and dimensions of the Great
Chain, we simultaneously acknowledge all the corresponding modes of
knowing--not
just the eye of flesh, which discloses the physical and sensory world,
or just the eye of mind, which discloses the linguistic and symbolic
world,
but also the eye of contemplation, which discloses the soul and spirit.
(We will return to this important topic in chapter 3.)
And so there is the agenda: Let us take the last step and reintroduce
the
eye of contemplation, which, as a scientific and repeatable
methodology,
discloses soul and spirit. And that integral vision is, I submit, the
final
homecoming, the reweaving of our modern soul with the soul of humanity
itself--the true meaning of multiculturalism--so that, standing on the
shoulders of giants, we transcend but include, which always means
honor,
their ever-recurring presence. Uniting ancient wisdom with modern
knowledge
is thus the clarion call of the integral vision, a beacon in the
postmodern
wilderness.
An
acknowledgment of the full spectrum of consciousness would alter the
course
of every one of the modern disciplines it touches--and that, of
course,
is an essential aspect of integral studies.
But indeed the first and most immediate impact would be on the field of
psychology itself. I have explored this full-spectrum psychology in a
number
of books (including The Spectrum of Consciousness, No
Boundary, The Atman Project, Transformations of Consciousness,
and A Brief History of Everything).
These books present a view of human development that attempts to
incorporate
the entire spectrum of consciousness, from instinct to ego to spirit,
from
prepersonal to personal to transpersonal, from subconscious to
self-conscious
to superconscious. If nothing animal, human, or divine is alien to me,
then no state of consciousness can be dismissed from the generous
embrace
of a truly integral psychology. In the Preface to the new edition of The
Atman Project , I try to suggest why such an integral and
inclusive
stance is so important.
The
Atman Project was, as far as we can tell, the first psychology
that
suggested a way of uniting East and West, conventional and
contemplative,
orthodox and mystical, into a single, coherent, and plausible
framework.
In so doing, it incorporated a good number of approaches, from Freud to
Buddha, Gestalt to Shankara, Piaget to Yogachara, Kohlberg to
Krishnamurti.
I
began writing The Atman Project in 1976, along with its sister
volume, Up
from Eden--one covering ontogeny, the other phylogeny. In the
almost
two decades since writing Atman, I have found its basic
framework
to be as sturdy and solid as ever, and thus I believe that its general
tenets, with a little fine tuning here and there, will continue to be
valid
for a long and fruitful time.
A few critics complained that I had simply used various sources in a
literary
fashion, that my approach wasn't based on clinical or experimental
evidence.
But this is perhaps a bit disingenuous: the vast majority of theorists
that I relied on were exactly those who had pioneered direct clinical
and
experimental evidence, from Jean Piaget's method clinique to Margaret
Mahler's
exhaustive videotaped observations to Lawrence Kohlberg's and Carol
Gilligan's
groundbreaking moral investigations--not to mention the vast
phenomenological
evidence presented by the contemplative traditions themselves. The
Atman
Project was directly based on the evidence of over sixty
researchers
from numerous approaches, and hundreds of others in an informal
way.
(We will return to, and carefully explore, this integral psychology in
chapters 6, 9, 10, and 11.)
The Atman Project also ended my flirtation with Romanticism and
its
attempt to make regression into a source of salvation. I had in fact
begun
to write both Atman and Eden as a validation of the
Romantic
view: men and women start out in an unconscious union with the
Divine--an
unreflexive immersion in a type of Heaven on Earth, a paradisiacal
Eden,
both ontogenetically and phylogenetically; then they break away from
that
union, through a process of alienation and dissociation (the isolated
and
divisive ego); then return to the Divine in a conscious and glorious
union.
Human development thus proceeds, so to speak, from unconscious Heaven
to
conscious Hell to conscious Heaven. I started writing both books to
validate
that Romantic notion... But the more I worked on the books, the more it
became obvious that the Romantic view was hopelessly muddled...
Hence, the overall Romantic view: one starts out in unconscious Heaven,
an unconscious union with the Divine; one then loses this unconscious
union,
and thus plunges into conscious Hell; one can then regain the Divine
union,
but now in a higher and conscious fashion.
The only problem with that view is that the first step--the loss of the
unconscious union with the Divine--is an absolute impossibility. All
things
are one with the Divine Ground--it is, after all, the Ground of all
being!
To lose oneness with that Ground is to cease to exist.
Follow it closely: there are only two general stances you can have
in
relation to the Divine Ground: since all things are one with
Ground, you can either be aware of that oneness, or you can be unaware
of that
oneness. That is, you can be conscious or unconscious of your union
with the Divine Ground: those are the only two choices you have.
And since the Romantic view is that you start out, as an infant, in an
unconscious union with Ground, you cannot then lose that union! You
have
already lost consciousness of the union; you cannot then further lose
the
union itself or you would cease to be! So if you are unconscious of
your
union, it can't get any worse, ontologically speaking. That is already
the pits of alienation. You are already living in Hell, as it were; you
are already immersed in samsara, only you don't realize it--you haven't
the awareness to recognize this burning fact. And so that is more the
actual
state of the infantile self: unconscious Hell.
What does start to happen, however, is that you begin to wake up to the
alienated world in and around you. You go from unconscious Hell to
conscious
Hell, and being conscious of Hell, of samsara, of lacerating existence,
is what makes growing up--and being an adult--such a nightmare of
misery
and alienation. The infant self is relatively peaceful, not because it
is living in Heaven, but because it isn't aware enough to register the
flames of Hell all around it...
As the infant self grows in awareness and consciousness, it slowly
becomes
aware of the intrinsic pain of existence, the torment inherent in
samsara,
the mechanism of madness coiled inherently in the manifest world: it
begins
to suffer. It is introduced to the first Noble Truth, a jolting
initiation
into the world of perception, whose sole mathematics is the
torture-inducing
fire of unquenched and unquenchable desire. This is not a desire-ridden
world that was lacking in the infant's previous "wonderful" immersion
state,
but simply a world that dominated that state unconsciously, a world
which
the self now slowly, painfully, tragically becomes aware of.
And so, as the self grows in awareness, it moves from unconscious Hell
to conscious Hell, and there it may spend its entire life, seeking
above
all else the numbing consolations that will blunt its raw and ragged
feelings,
blur its etchings of despair. Its life becomes a map of morphine, and
folding
itself into the anesthetic glow of all its compensations, it might even
manage to convince itself, at least for an endearing blush of
rose-tinted
time, that the dualistic world is an altogether pretty thing.
But alternatively, the self might
continue its
growth and development into the genuinely spiritual domains:
transcending
the separate-self sense, it uncoils in the very Divine. The
union with the Divine--a union or oneness that had been
present
but unconscious since the start--now flares forth in consciousness in a
brilliant burst of illumination and a shock of the unspeakably
ordinary: it realizes its Supreme Identity with Spirit itself,
announced,
perhaps, in nothing more than the cool breeze of a bright spring day,
this
outrageously obvious affair.
Now, there is indeed a falling away from Godhead, from Spirit, from the
primordial Ground, and this is the truth the Romantics are trying to
get
at, before they slip into their pre/trans fallacies. This falling away
is called involution, the movement whereby all things fall away
from a consciousness of their union with the Divine, and thus imagine
themselves
to be separate and isolated monads, alienated and alienating. And once
involution has occurred--and Spirit becomes unconsciously involved in
the
lower and lowest forms of its own manifestation--then evolution
can occur: Spirit unfolds in a great spectrum of consciousness, from
the
Big Bang to matter to sensation to perception to impulse to image to
symbol
to concept to reason to psychic to subtle to causal occasions, on the
way
to its own shocking self-recognition, Spirit's own self-realization and
self-resurrection. And in each of those stages--from matter to body to
mind to soul to spirit--evolution becomes more and more conscious, more
and more are, more and more realized, more and more awake--with all the
joys, and all the terrors, inherently involved in that dialectic of
awakening.
At
each stage of this process of Spirit's return to itself, we--you and
I--nonetheless
remember, perhaps vaguely, perhaps intensely, that we were once
consciously
one with the very Divine itself. It is there, this memory trace, in the
back of our awareness, pulling and pushing us to realize, to awaken, to
remember who and what we always already are.
In fact, all things, we might surmise, intuit to one degree or another
that their very Ground is Spirit itself. All things are driven, urged,
pushed and pulled to manifest this realization. And yet, prior to that
divine awakening, all things seek Spirit in a way that actually
prevents
the realization: or else we would be realized right now! We seek Spirit
in ways that prevent it.
We seek for Spirit in the world of time; but Spirit is timeless, and
cannot
there be found. We seek for Spirit in the world of space; but Spirit is
spaceless, and cannot there be found. We seek for Spirit in this or
that
object, shiny and alluring and full of fame or fortune; but Spirit is
not
an object, and it cannot be seen or grasped in the world of commodities
and commotion.
In other words, we are seeking for Spirit in ways that prevent its
realization,
and force us to settle for substitute gratifications, which propel us
through,
and lock us into, the wretched world of time and terror, space and
death,
sin and separation, loneliness and consolation.
And that is the Atman project.
The
Atman project: the attempt to find Spirit in ways that prevent
it
and
force substitute gratifications. And, as you will see in the following
pages, the entire structure of the manifest universe is driven by the
Atman
project, a project that continues until we--until you and I--awaken to
the Spirit whose substitutes we seek in the world of space and time and
grasping and despair. The nightmare of history is the nightmare of the
Atman project, the fruitless search in time for that which is finally
timeless,
a search that inherently generates terror and torment, a self ravaged
by
repression, paralyzed by guilt, beset with the frost and fever of
wretched
alienation--a torture that is only undone in the radiant Heart when the
great search itself uncoils, when the self-contraction relaxes its
attempt
to find God, real or substitute: the movement in time is undone by the
great Unborn, the great Uncreate, the great Emptiness in the Heart of
the
Kosmos itself.
And so, as you read this book, try to remember: remember the great
event
when you breathed out and created this entire Kosmos; remember the
great
emptying when you threw yourself out as the entire World, just to see
what
would happen. Remember the forms and forces through which you have
traveled
thus far: from galaxies to planets, to verdant plants reaching upward
for
the sun, to animals stalking day and night, restless with their weary
search,
through primal men and women, yearning for the light, to the very
person
now holding this book: remember who and what you have been, what you
have
done, what you have seen, who you actually are in all those guises, the
masks of the God and the Goddess, the masks of your own Original Face.
TOP
Copyright 1996, 1997, Shambhala
Publications
|