A meaningful turning toward the Divine has nothing to do with what people usually practice and call prayer.
Their image of God is based on a God who does not do everything for His children that He actually could do, and who does not know what they need, but who can be persuaded to change His mind. The means are incantations, sermons, pleas, rosaries, supplications, begging, countless Our Fathers, songs, and the ceaseless repetition of mantras. In a word, it is a ceaseless stream of speech.
In contrast stands the interactive form of meditation, which—originating in Eastern tradition—has now taken root in the West. Medieval mystical-contemplative practices (e.g., Teresa of Ávila or the author of *The Cloud of Unknowing*) were stifled in their time by the Inquisition under the accusation of “improper forms of prayer.”
Through its phase of silence, meditation aims at communion with the divine soul within; it is about dialogue with it, about making its language audible. It is about making its guiding impulses—such as our gut feeling, our intuition, our conscience—more distinct; it is about the perceptible (!) experience of its presence. Meditation seeks contact with the divine essence within oneself in order to restore access to one’s own spiritual identity and its buried efficacy: “Become who you are!” (Pindar)
The purpose of achieving this dialogue is to be able to live a guided life in order to fulfill its destiny of higher development, as shown in the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11 ff.): It shows the path from material consciousness back to a spiritual one. Spiritual consciousness means having attained a dialogue with God.
Most people have the communication channel inherent within them already half-active, actually only one-tenth active: For they mostly use it unconsciously, by orienting their behavior at least according to their “gut feeling.” Sometimes they even realize that they are doing this. In rare cases, they even wait for it to respond to their question.
But this spiritual contact, of course, has little to do with a situationally necessary and actively self-directed question-and-answer dialogue, as seen with Job in chapter 40 ff.: “The Lord answered … Job answered the Lord … And the Lord answered Job … .” In Neal Donald Walsch’s work, it is the literary “Conversations with God,” but the many non-prominent and sometimes clairvoyant people who are engaged in lively conversation—mind you, bidirectional—
– testify that this level is attainable. The central proof of this is the consistent success of this spiritual guidance, provided that and once all the pitfalls and misunderstandings in the early stages have been overcome.
The result is freedom from suffering. This does not mean freedom from problems, for the vicissitudes of life continue, at first even intensified, but then increasingly weak, and above all, they always turn out well:
Example: I notice some symptoms like general fatigue or even a few calf cramps and pull out my old blood pressure monitor. The reading shows a systolic blood pressure over 200. I’m alarmed, hope it’s just an age-related false reading, and buy a modern device with a cloud-based app. It shows readings between 180 and 190. So I ask, and based on the answer from within, I immediately cut out all salt, double my fluid intake, order a special homeopathic remedy with maximum potency, and also take a series of other typical anti-stroke measures, all meticulously selected according to inner guidance. After a few months, the systolic pressure stabilizes at a value between 130 and 140 mmHg.
When one has had many of these experiences and they have become routine, one has answered the question of the meaning of meditation, just as Jesus, in a parable in Luke, expresses the result of the restored communication between humanity and God: He has God the Father say: “My Son was dead and has come back to life.” (15:24) For this Son has, through meditation, found access to the spiritual dialogue that Jesus continues to describe: “For behold, the Kingdom of God is within you.” (15:21)
Through meditation, we reach the level of this direct spiritual conversation. First and foremost, it offers a significantly better perception of its impulses, but above all, clear answers to existential questions. The answers are clearly comprehensible on the material plane. They mainly come in the form of deep breathing impulses within the binary yes-no system: In this process, the spiritual soul always gives only yes answers; there is no such thing as a no answer in dialogue with it.
Furthermore, a key feature of the advanced level of communication is learning to distinguish, at a later stage, between the impulses from “above”—from the spiritual soul—and those—within the meditative dialogue—from “below,” from the instinctual soul, from Mephisto, so to speak.
Once this stage is reached, the resulting successes demonstrate how our inner voice guides us very clearly and often—even against certain rationalities (of the instinctive soul)—safely through all pitfalls and dangers. In the New Testament, the communication between the person of Jesus and his inner guidance is expressed as follows: “He prayed and said … and an angel appeared to him and strengthened him.” (Chap. 22). The spiritual dialogue is expressed in a clear form in the so-called temptations in the desert, in which Jesus “was led by the Spirit [spiritual soul] into the desert, that he might be tempted by the devil [instinctual soul, material plane].” (Matt. Chap. 4)
A particularly clear example is the spiritual guidance of the sixteen-year-old (!) Joan of Arc on her path to the liberation of France:
“Two or three times a week, the voice told me that I, Joan, had to go to France… The voice commanded me to lift the siege of Orléans. It told me to seek out Robert de Baudricourt—he was the captain of the city— that he give me men to come with me. I replied that I was a poor girl who knew nothing of riding or warfare. …
When I arrived in Vaucouleurs, I recognized Robert de Baudricourt, and yet I had never seen him before. I recognized him through the voice. It told me that it was him. … I reached the king without hindrance …
When I entered the hall, I recognized him among all the others; my voice pointed him out to me. I told the king that I wanted to wage war against the English.
There is not a day that goes by that I do not hear the voice, and I need it. I have never asked for any reward other than the salvation of my soul.”
(Joan of Arc: Documents of Her Condemnation and Justification 1431, 1456. Cologne 1956, p. 43 ff.)
A skeptic might assume that Joan made all this up, since there can be no one to confirm such a thing. But inner spiritual processes have external material effects. And her military successes in the liberation of France—as a military leader with veteran commanders under her command—speak for themselves.
Joan’s guidance is characterized by detailed verbal communication. Far more common, however, is the aforementioned binary method, in which the inner voice responds only to questions designed to elicit a yes or no answer, and to which she responds only with a yes. This “yes” response usually manifests as a sudden, particularly deep inhalation.
The Pythia, the Oracle of Delphi, is said to have used a mixture of detailed verbal responses and binary code. Today, there are many people who, in their dialogue with the soul, have been assigned one or the other focus. Clear verbal answers are often limited to single words. Experience shows that the questioner receives the best answers to nuanced questions through a structured binary sequence.
Johanna heard her voice only from “above,” whereas in everyday experience the matter is far from so simple. For achieving this dialogue requires not only considerable demands on endurance and patience; rather, it is crucial—downright fateful—to win the battle against the barrage of negative thoughts during this training, the battle against these corrosive impulses that every person faces every day, the battle against the anger, aggression, the urge to strike back, greed, and above all fears of every kind to which they are exposed and which they almost always lose, because they do not know where they come from, what purpose they serve, and that one can consciously grasp and categorize them, but above all control or completely defeat them. While one cannot prevent them from arising at all, one can certainly prevent them from from taking hold. So you can overcome the following—and far worse—thoughts:
– “I can’t do this anyway.”
– “What will happen to me if I lose my job?”
– “I’ll get that back at him!”
– “Deport the foreigners!”
– “I’m so angry at myself for my mistake!”
– “You bitch!”
– “Watch out, I’m going to beat you up!”
– “It’s hopeless!”
In particularly severe cases, for example, the mentally ill hear their negative voices from “below” as extremely destructive manipulation, as exemplified by John Lennon’s murderer, who stated on record: “A voice inside me said: Do it, do it!” In this respect, spiritual seekers at an advanced level of spiritual dialogue must learn to recognize this distinction between spirits.
Comparison of Conventional Prayer and Spiritual Meditation:
speaking—————————————————————————————————————————————– hearing
publicly ———————————————————————————————–hidden in the quiet of one’s own room
wanting—————————————————————————————————————————————- thanking
fulfillment of desires —————————————————————————————-surrendering the soul’s desires
Wanting to have; using God as an instrument —————————————-Wanting God; leaving everything to Him
Duality: I here, God somewhere up there ——————————————-Polarity: God within me, I His expression
Dominance of the mind’s activity —————————————————————————–Allowing the spirits activity
Unidirectional ——————————————————————————————————————————–Dialogical
Urging ———————————————————————————————————————————————Waiting
Doubt in omnipotence ————————————————————————————————–Trust in omnipotence
Perspective of the ego ————————————————————————————————Perspective of the spirit
Consciousness of lack —————————————————————————————-Consciousness of abundance
Unrestrained stream of thoughts ———————————————————————————–Emptying of thoughts
Asking for the fulfillment of goals ————————————————————-Surrendering the concept of the goal
In this respect, there is a worldly and a spiritual conception of prayer. The worldly one predominantly wants something worldly. People pray to God so that he will do what they want. So that this does not stand out so much, they emphasize the part of the Lord’s Prayer that says “Thy will be done,” specifically by stressing the word “be.” In any case, they live their daily lives, after leaving the church service, according to the principle “My will be done!”
Spiritual meditation, on the other hand, seeks above all contact with the divine essence within, with the truth of life; it seeks communication with it, the channel for which is within us anyway, though access to it—and thus its effectiveness—has been blocked. It then waits patiently for the signal from the spirit-soul, which can take quite a long time. Everyday people want something from God; they have wishful thinking and do everything to fulfill it. In doing so, they overlook the fact that God is right in the middle of it all and decides whether or not it will happen, and furthermore, in the event of realization—such as in finding a partner—whether it will be successful or not:
Desire > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > GOD > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > Fulfillment of desire
Everyone knows from experience that existential decisions in the many stages of everyday life, as well as those regarding the fulfillment of material desires, sometimes turn out well and sometimes badly. Very few realize, however, that these decisions are initially always dictated by self-preservation. As for the successful fulfillment of a wish within the context of spiritual dialogue, it works only when the motive of self-preservation is abandoned and contact with the **(spiritual)** soul is sought instead: The principle in this context must be the commitment to “Thy will be done!”
Then the inner guidance takes over our request and fulfills it, provided it is compatible with the greater good.
Prayer seeks the fulfillment of a wish; meditation involves surrendering the fulfillment of a wish.
__________________________________________
**Because the term “soul” is used in very different ways: Here it is understood as the higher-inner spiritual part of the human being (see Chapter 1), the inner voice, intuition, the spiritual core of the human being, the Son of God, his spirit-soul. The addition of “spirit” is intended to prevent confusion between “soul” and “spirit.” It is meant to express that “soul” refers to the earthly-psychic dimension—as, for example, in “SOS”: “Save Our Souls,” that is, material-mortal life. In contrast, “spirit” refers to the spiritual, immortal voice, the presence of God within the human being. (“You are all gods.” John 10:34) (“The Kingdom of God is within you.” Luke 17:12) The term “consciousness,” in turn, refers to the material dimension and denotes the realm of perception of the respective impulses. Jesus often uses the terms “Kingdom of God” or “Kingdom of Heaven” for the spirit-soul (spirit). “Like the horizontal material instinctual soul, it is the anchored component of human inner life. From birth onward, the material part—the psyche—dominates consciousness. Receptivity to the spiritual part initially remains in the realm of the unconscious—apart from “gut feelings” or “pangs of conscience.”
______________________________________________
The divine spiritual soul repeatedly speaks to its material identity, to its lower half, to the person, to their unconscious, and above all to their consciousness. However, the latter is not attuned to the—spiritual—reception frequency. Paul puts it this way: ordinary people hear nothing from the spiritual world (1 Cor. 2:14) . This is particularly evident in the fact that they worship God in external forms such as the persons of Jesus, Mary, many saints, and then also their statues and images, “golden calves,” and do so in endless rituals. They are unfamiliar with inner perception through meditative contemplation. The uncontrolled admission of the stream of thoughts destroys receptivity.
Yet hardly anyone asks themselves why this constant bombardment of mental activity exists at all, and why this barrage consists of what feels like 99% of content filled with rage, hatred, greed, threats, accusation, self-reproach, temptation, retribution, and fear. Moreover, people usually give in to this barrage: “I had to (!) think about it constantly!” This is how traumatized people complain that their experiences of disaster, abuse, or war won’t let them go their entire lives. They suffer endlessly because they simply don’t know that mind-based meditation can very well control and stop negative thoughts of fear, anger, and greed. While one cannot completely prevent them from arising at all, but they can certainly be prevented from taking hold and spreading.
Buddha Resisting the Demons of Mara
Wellcome Collection Gallery -2018-03-27 (cropped to emphasize the focus of the threat).
https://wellcomecollection.org/works/bact43fu CC-BY-4.0
(The full image including the temptation: see below)
The best approach is to realize what the reason for their existence and function in human life is: It is the creation of often immeasurable suffering, as the parable of the Prodigal Son shows: Only through the suffering of sinking so low that he must eat pig feed does he find the way to return to spiritual consciousness. Ultimately, these tormenting thoughts are meant to lead to the dissolution of the slavish, painful attachment to material consciousness, because the increasingly disastrous experiences associated with it almost force him to find an alternative to continuing down this horizontal path: See Chapter 13 in detail. For gentle persuasion based on the wisdom texts of human cultures—for 3,000 years now—has had no effect on most people. As the saying goes: “They just don’t understand it any other way.”
But an understanding of the function and purpose of negative thoughts is still lacking. That is why people do not attempt to follow the path of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11 ff.):
The purely spiritual human being (Son of God) leaves his purely spiritual home, the spiritual consciousness, where there is no evil. He descends to the level of matter, that is, into the physical world. However, he takes his “inheritance” with him—the inner voice inherent within him, regardless of whether it is developed or suppressed. He then makes his appearance in the material world as Homo sapiens (Second Creation Story) with its purely material survival program. He squanders his life on this level to such an extent that he wastes away his possessions: “he squandered his wealth in revelry” (Luke 15:13). Through this increasing destruction of his means of subsistence “he began to suffer.” He then sinks so low that one cannot sink any lower. He tends the pigs and must eat food scraps intended for the pigs: (“treber” are pressed barley residues, the husks, as a metaphor for severe suffering.)
Even in this, 99% of people draw no conclusions, whether it be terrible marital, neighborhood, professional, or other social conflicts, or the destruction of the foundations of life through environmental disasters or wars,
whether it be incurable diseases or even incurable and agonizing diseases. Due to a lack of knowledge about the spiritual foundations of life, they stubbornly remain on the horizontal-material plane in their search for liberation from their fate and do not even consider orienting themselves vertically spiritual orientation, even though all wisdom teachings point to this path and Buddhism even elevates it to the central goal of its entire doctrine.
Among the seekers, too, there are only a few who, stubborn as Job, remain on the thorny path, even as inner spiritual guidance grows clearer and stronger. Among them is precisely this seemingly lost son, who remains steadfast in his return and ascent, half driven there by the catastrophic worldly lack of prospects, half strengthened by the encouragement and guidance of the “Goddess Athena,” as Homer called the inner guidance by the Son of God. It is precisely about the homecoming to the “Father,” to the spiritual homeland, to the spiritual aspect of consciousness. This prodigal son understands both the material impulses of destruction and those of salvation and ascent. Despite extreme material pressure, he resolves to return to spiritual consciousness—with humility, not arrogance.
Instead of consulting the teachings of wisdom—a damning indictment of religious organizations—people try to escape their problems, and thus also the negative onslaught, through all manner of distractions, drug use, reckless driving, alcoholism, etc. But the bottom line is that it doesn’t work. It only works for a brief moment, which is why it must be repeated and even intensified, and ultimately ends in disaster.
The remedy that works immediately is a shift in consciousness or mindset away from the earthly plane toward the spiritual realm, toward the awareness of one’s own spiritual identity, of the Son of God within:
“You are all gods!”
“The Kingdom of God is within you!”
“He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world!”
Bestdesigns. iStock 1099434540
Mephisto calls himself the “spirit who always says no” (Faust I, Study I). He is the embodiment of the lower part of the soul, that structure of drives and needs within the human being that strives to combat deficiencies and does not realize that through this striving—in the sense of “wanting to fight for the ego-centered self”—it only increases these deficiencies. That is why daily life consists of countless discrepancies between the ideal and the actual. (This applies even to people who live in total luxury, albeit to a lesser extent. That is why they also have fewer chances of finding the spiritual path. A rich person does not need God.) The ego constantly wants to achieve goals or is constantly on the hunt to fulfill its desires, instead of focusing on connecting with its soul, which lies between desire and goal.
In doing so, the ego denies the actual spiritual identity of the human being. But if one were to “seek” this and succeed in doing so, everything necessary would be provided. This is not only stated in Matthew 6, but is the tangible experience of all those who have successfully “sought.” The gap between the ideal and the actual would then be increasingly bridged.
Inner guidance provides not only everything that is essential for life and, furthermore, what brings fulfillment—even without being asked—but also, beyond that, what is necessary for the realization of the increasingly prominent tasks for the common good.
Conventional prayer aims for God to bring about something, and specifically in the interest of the person praying. It is ego-driven. Yet the sages have taught that God has long known what we need, even before we ourselves know it. Thus, praying for worldly things, such as daily bread, is pointless. It is as if one were standing under a parasol and asking the sun to please shine. Above all, the countless attempts over the past millennia to beg God for an end to hunger, war, hardship, and misery have gone unheard. People have offered animal and human sacrifices, practiced incantation rituals, made bribes such as indulgences, donated endlessly in an attempt to strike a deal, etc., but it was all to no avail. They did it to fulfill their ego-driven goals and could not see that it did not work. Meditation is something entirely different. The search for contact with the inner voice has a certain meaning, but not the one that everyday people attribute to it. As mentioned, they have desires for self-preservation that they wish to fulfill. Inner guidance, on the other hand, fulfills absolutely reliable self-preservation—albeit according to its own standards—provided it is compatible with the greater good.
“You must not cry out to God,
the spring is within you;
If you do not block the outlet,
it flows on and on.”
(Angelus Silesius: Cherubic Wanderer I, 55)
The purpose of the spiritual quest for contact with the (spiritual) soul is to overcome separation from it, for it is precisely this detachment that is the source of all evil and suffering. The result of reconnection is that it advises and guides us unscathed and successfully through the ups and downs of everyday life, down to the finest detail. In this way, the spirit soul demonstrates its physical efficacy in the here and now through preserving, healing, protecting, providing for, and guiding. Christianity calls the agent of this transition of the invisible force into the visible material dimension—this transformation—the “Holy Spirit.” Once contact is established, it may happen that the inner guidance, for example, recommend, for example, drastically increasing or decreasing the prescribed dose of medication to allow its effectiveness to fully unfold. It recognizably guides—through a kind of inner urge—toward certain decisions or, conversely, prevents impending wrong decisions, such as when buying a used car. Those who cultivate their ability to listen inwardly gain invaluable decision-making aids. It can guide one toward the right decision before important choices (vaccinating children, choosing a doctor, buying a home, moving, career moves). Then one lives a life according to the principle “Thy will be done!”
It also, for example, momentarily blocks my steering wheel movement to pass on the left when a passing vehicle was just in my blind spot.
It causes me to visit a website where the product I’ve been searching for so long can finally be found—and perhaps at a special promotional price. It advises me on online purchases, such as clothing, and helps with grocery shopping, to avoid drawbacks such as pesticides and make the best choice. It accomplishes all this and more when I succeed in refining my “gut feeling” by turning to it with trust and asking for guidance. Homer symbolically portrays this in the Odyssey by referring to the “invocation (!) to the Muse” and later constantly consults with the goddess. This is a demonstration of trust, not a plea for material benefits. His entire life prior to this was shaped by the principle “My will be done!”
Conventional prayer is a mindset of lack
“Give us this day our daily bread!” That is all he has ever done. Yet we often do not receive it anyway, because we—unconsciously—do everything possible to prevent its very receipt: We clothe—if at all—our lack in the form of prayer and beg for a solution to our problems. But a mindset of lack simply creates lack, and therefore such prayers are counterproductive and a disregard for Creation, which is “very good” (Gen. 1:31).
Of course, there are situations in which even those guided by the soul find themselves in earthly distress. And of course, they turn to their inner guidance. But they do not present their problem as a problem (= lack). They are aware of their inner radiant essence—as omnipotence — (which means, in essence, that we are the soul) and, based on their spiritual experience, express their gratitude for living through this inner voice. They know that there is actually nothing one needs to ask for; for whoever is reconnected to the soul has everything anyway, including material things. But often the soul does not merely want us to surrender our will to it, but rather that we direct it by asking for advice or seeking guidance (“What should I do now?”) or even spiritual progress. The meditators express their confidence that the solution will be revealed to them, ask “Show me the way!” and wait. In some cases, the answer comes promptly.
I’m on my way home from Budapest to Hamburg. My taxi from the train station to Ferihegy Airport gets caught in an unexpected traffic jam—one the driver says is unusual. It takes over an hour longer, even though the driver pulls off the wildest detours. Because of this complication, he charges me only half the amount shown on the meter. But even so, I’m left with just a single euro. Since I have my plane ticket and my car keys, I don’t need anything else for Hamburg. I arrive five minutes after boarding has ended; the gate is closed. I show my passport and ticket, want to quickly check my suitcase, and hear: “The aircraft has gone!” Since that can’t be right, I run to the baggage carousel on the other side. There I hear the same thing. The employee makes a call and confirms that, unusually, the flight has already left a bit early. Despair threatens to take hold of me.
I have no cash, no credit card, or anything like that, and cell phones didn’t exist back then. I have no money for a hotel, not even for the bus to the consulate, and it’s closed on Saturday evenings anyway.
I now push all negative thoughts aside, turn inward, and ask for guidance. Then there is a moment of calm and silence. Without my mind having a clear idea of what to do, my steps lead me back to the check-in counter. The employee listens to my story again, looks me up and down, glances at her monitor, and sits there for a minute. Suddenly she stands up and says, “What I’m about to do is against the rules. I’m giving you a seat on the flight to Hamburg tomorrow evening the same departure time.” She issues me a ticket; I spend the night on the airport benches, wait through the next day, and fly to Hamburg in the evening on a fully booked plane, arriving home exhausted but happy after a long drive.
A key reason why prayers go unanswered is that by constantly producing thoughts, words, and sounds, we ensure that the quiet voice of the soul is drowned out and cannot be heard. This blocks the channel through which it takes effect. For we must be guided by the gentle voice from within, and not by external considerations, views, teachings, and interpretations. The more the mind comes to rest, the more the voice of the soul takes effect. As long as thoughts are allowed to rage, there is neither true meditation nor connection with the soul.
Other factors that prevent us from making contact with inner guidance are desires (except those with spiritual content; see below) and the belief that earthly people or circumstances have power.
As for desires, they are almost automatically linked to “I” and “mine” and clearly reveal their nature. There are countless examples of this, whether it concerns building a house, choosing a partner, taking out loans, desires for children, career goals, etc. No one knows what the truth is; no one knows what is right and best for everyone involved. Only when the mind is successfully set aside can this truth unfold. That is why Robert Browning writes in *Paracelsus* that the channel must be opened so that the “imprisoned radiance” may be set free.
In contrast to material requests, those concerning spiritual goals—that is, requests for guidance, enlightenment, counsel, etc.—are obvious, practical, and effective. It is no coincidence that Homer begins the Odyssey with the “Invocation to the Muse”. Even in critical situations, appeals such as “Don’t let me down now!”—despite some contradictions—are anything but impractical; they provide stability and are successful.
As for meditative interaction with the soul, the focus, alongside spiritual contemplation, is on silence. It is the resting of the mind through the cessation of the constant barrage of thoughts. This is demonstrated to us by Eastern tradition.
Then our divine core provides us with solutions in the form of flashes of insight, inspirations, ideas, etc. They come when necessary and, above all, upon request. In this respect, silence is not the goal, but rather the foundation or prerequisite for the influx of soul power. In contrast to Eastern traditions, silence has been relatively less known in the West until very recently. However, this is not a silence devoid of plan or content, but rather a deliberate listening, which we initiate with the request “Speak!” (see above, the invocation) and thereby establish a suitable framework or attitude of expectation. In doing so, we express that we wish to be contacted, advised, and guided by our soul. In the world of Islamic fairy tales, Aladdin must rub the lamp each time for the genie to appear.
One factor that prevents interaction with the soul, as mentioned, is begging for things, for material improvement. If the vessel of consciousness is already full of hopes, plans, and desires, nothing more can enter to bring fulfillment:
In Eastern Zen wisdom, there is a story about a professor who seeks instruction from a Zen master. The master offers tea and fills the seeker’s cup to the brim, continuing to pour into the already full cup. When the professor cries out in horror that the cup is already full, the master replies that this is a metaphor for the student’s consciousness: a mind already filled with knowledge and prejudices cannot absorb any more truths.
Incidentally, Jesus never asked God to do anything material for anyone. Rather, he said: “Get up, take your bed, and walk!” In doing so, he also made it clear that it was not he who had healed the paralytic, but that the paralytic’s own shift in consciousness regarding the powerlessness of evil had brought about the healing. In this respect, the prayers in places of worship are by no means the focus for developing a dialogue with the inner God. And they consist of reciting preformulated set phrases, rather than addressing the very personal situation of the person praying. These rituals are noisy and thus drown out the “still, small voice” (1 Kings 19:12); that is why one goes into one’s inner room and turns to God in secret (Matthew 6:6).
They are also both flawed and predominantly materialistic in orientation, rather than focusing on spiritual goals, on “striving.”
They contain misleading intonations such as “Thy will be done!” with the stress on the last syllable instead of the first.
It is generally overlooked that it is not God as a central power who fulfills our wishes, but our own consciousness, which is divine (Christian:
Son of God) and realizes itself. Since we generally do not know our own divine identity with the associated power beyond good and evil, we have relinquished this co-creatorship, thereby distancing ourselves from our destiny-shaping power and even charging our requests with a sense of lack. In the best-case scenario, this leads to our prayers going unheard and unfulfilled. The American transcendental philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson writes on this:
“What kind of prayers do people allow themselves? … Any prayer that demands some particular advantage … is blasphemous.
True prayer is the contemplation of the things of this life from the highest point of view. It is the Spirit of God speaking, that His work is good. Prayer as a means to achieve some private end is meanness and theft. ” (Essays, Part 1, Ch. 3)
Awareness of Fullness in Meditation
The fact that their prayers are not answered does not stop people from trying again and again. People pray to a God who, as mentioned:
(a) has no idea what his children might need,
(b) who, in their opinion, withholds something from them,
(c) who does not do everything for his children that he could,
(d) who can be persuaded,
(e) whom they want to move through prayer to finally hand over what is desired,
(f) who distributes his gifts to some upon request, but not to others.
This kind of prayer turns the Creator into a sort of Santa Claus. They are characterized by lack, rather than recognizing the abundance of this world. They express a consciousness of lack through wanting, wishing, and pleading. In doing so, they prevent the Spirit of God and its abundance from reaching the supplicants. This was demonstrated by the Buddha: He had searched in vain for a long time and only found enlightenment when he had cast aside all concepts of desire and begun to meditate. This is also illustrated by the following context:
“Seek first the Kingdom of God …
and all these things will be added to you. ”
The Kingdom of God refers to our divine consciousness. Our divine sonship is also expressed through the relationship of a sunbeam to the sun. It warms earthly life with its warmth and illuminates it with its light. It transcends the categories of good and evil, recognizes the purely good behind the evil surface, and contains no deficiency. This manifests itself, among other things, in the renunciation of revenge and in constant forgiveness, especially of enemies. If not all good things come our way, then our pursuit of divine consciousness was not all that serious.
For we are already always provided with everything we need, and with even more—not just the bare necessities! This is easily seen in the fact that the Earth is so incredibly rich in resources that, with its freshwater supplies, timber, mineral resources, fish
and livestock, and fertile soils, can comfortably provide for far more than the current eight billion people. How, then, can it be that we are mired in existential problems of acute hunger, malnutrition, climate catastrophe, nuclear threat, crime, displacement, and war?
“I have come that they may have life, and have it in abundance. ”
The reason is that this Higher Self, which is within every human being, must be recognized by that person so that full satisfaction may unfold. Everyone who has taken the risk of not first seeking material satisfaction, but instead first seeking and finding access to their Higher Self (though they were only led there through severe blows of fate) knows this . Moreover, despite occasional dramatic shortages, they have maintained the certainty that the winter-bare fruit tree will guarantee full satisfaction in due time. But who goes through their daily life, at every step, confidently and humbly aware of their likeness to God (Gen. 1:27)?
Recognition is like handling a lamp. Without a connection to electricity, it does not shine, no matter how much one prays. The connection is characterized by the fact that we called upon the “Muse,” thereby establishing contact and surrendering our will to divine guidance. We then no longer chase after our goals, but wait—without neglecting our part of the work—and allow what the soul has intended for us in relation to our longing to come to us. What is your will?
How does one find the dialogue?
How does this process of finding dialogue—this direct connection to the soul—work? Following a plane crash in the early 2000s, the memorial service for the German victims was broadcast. The clergyman began his sermon from the pulpit, essentially saying that we all knew how unspeakably difficult it was to live with a God who would not speak to us. That is a statement that makes it hard not to fall out of your TV chair.
Our inner voice speaks to us again and again. It manifests as an inner sensation of being urged in a certain direction or as a hindrance to a decision in another direction. It manifests as part of our dreams, often the ones that recur. It manifests as a happy “coincidence,” as an inexplicable, “miraculous” rescue, or even as a premonition. It manifests as signs that are actually impossible to overlook, such as when everything one touches goes wrong, or as intolerance when one consumes foods that are harmful. It manifests as illness, signaling one’s deviation from the soul’s path. It also manifests as conscience and as gut feeling. An example from Jewish wisdom is Job: He did not speak about God, but with Him, and God answered (!), just as He does today with everyone who persistently “knocks” of their own accord. (Only in rare cases has this happened without seeking or knocking, as with Joanna;
see below). First and foremost, however, our inner spiritual guidance manifests itself as a dialogue partner in every conceivable situation of daily life, even if this dialogue is predominantly one-sided and usually takes the form of response-impulses to our earthly, material, and above all spiritual questions.
Finding dialogue with the inner voice is achieved through meditation.
Christian wisdom puts it this way: “… knock, and it will be be opened!”
The Islamic Sufi mystic Rumi chooses a flowery style of expression:
“The milk cannot flow unless one sucks at it.”
(Masnavi I, 2388).
The Indo-Arabic-Persian tale of “Aladdin and the Magic Lamp” speaks of rubbing this lamp to activate the genie and thus a higher power.
The Buddha expresses this in the Dhammapada as follows: “Without concentration, there is no wisdom.” (25, 372)The Hindu wisdom of the Gita states: “Whoever boldly walks the path inward will soon reach the realm of the Divine.” (V, 6)
Lao Tzu writes in the Tao Te Ching:
“Whoever closes their eyes becomes aware of the invisible.” (14)
Even Goethe, not exactly a mystic, crafts the following verse in his poem “Legacy”:
“Turn inward at once; there you will find the center.”
We consciously and gratefully accept the invitation to knock by responding through meditation. By retreating into a quiet refuge and closing one’s eyes, one turns away from the outside world as much as possible; this first affects the external setting, then bodily sensations, and finally the realm of thought. One strives to create as much distance as possible between consciousness—which is something entirely different from thinking—and the unwanted and uninvited thoughts or impulses of the instinctual soul. This is not easy, for from childhood onward we were never—just as our ancestors were not—taught to suppress fear, anger, vindictiveness, worry, or negative thoughts in general.
In the Eastern tradition, this is quite different. Hinduism and Buddhism have developed diverse methods to block out mental activity in order to attain stillness. For only in this state does the language of the spirit come through clearly and consciously. The mental assaults of fear, worry, and anger come from “below,” from the program of self-preservation. From “above” comes intuition; but it flows in only through stillness and invocation. The barrage of thoughts serves the seductive function of diverting us from the path to the soul and binding us to the connections and laws of the material world of this vale of tears. This is symbolically illustrated by the story of the Prodigal Son, who wants to find his happiness “out there” (just like Parzival) and leaves the inner “court of the Father.”
In Homer’s Odyssey, it is the “suitors” who seek to conquer Penelope—our soul. Through silence or the emptying of the mind, the separation between myself and the soul is diminished, and I increasingly establish unity with it.
Contemplation takes place primarily through listening. One communicates, so to speak, with the ears (turned inward) and not with the mouth. Then, one day, the spirit will speak to us. Then one can physically (!) feel its presence (see below). Meditation is the only means to seize the opportunity for dialogue with the soul, to establish contact, and to sustain it.
For those who have found this dialogue, it unfolds in a very direct and intimate way. The inner voice responds immediately, as in a conversation between people, though rarely with human sentences and explanations, but mostly with a strikingly deep inhalation in response to questions that can be answered—binary—with yes or no. It responds only in the case of yes. As mentioned, it knows no “no.” It can also express itself through a sense of urgency, an inner image, a tingling in the palms of the hands, or other physical sensations. Furthermore, it acts on its own initiative, which is always interpreted by the average person as “coincidence,” “luck,” “like a miracle,” “whole squadrons of guardian angels” (someone who escaped from Stalingrad at the last moment), etc.
As the dialogue progresses, the spiritual seeker encounters the following two phenomena during meditation:
1) At some point, he will have to realize that his inner intuitions are becoming contradictory and, in some cases, even nonsensical. From this moment on, he must take note that on the spiritual side there are not just one, but two authorities, or rather that a second one has interfered, seeking to cause confusion. This is a phenomenon that the Bhagavad Gita alludes to in two verses:
“The wise honor the gods, the attached serve the demons, the fool serves the lowest spirits, …” (XVII, 4)
Through hatred, worry, and fear-mongering, these demons and the lowest spirits promote belief in multiplicity, which appears to be the only reality in the visible world but is deceptive because it conceals the unity behind it. This deception, driven by impulse and instinct, is the belief that bodies, with their lives (!), are separate from one another. This consciousness is oriented exclusively toward matter, forms, and bodies. Added to this are false knowledge and mental rigidity. (XVIII, 20–22)
The “knower” must then develop methods to distinguish between the two sources. As early as the Middle Ages, this phenomenon was described and analyzed under the heading “Discernment of Spirits ” and analyzed, for example by Heinrich von Friemar: The Treatise on the Discernment of Spirits. These and other sources refer to the numerous passages in the New Testament, such as “Do not believe every spirit …” (1 John 4:1)
2) The aspirant experiences being awakened by something—often at almost the same time—in the middle of the night. As this becomes more frequent, the question of the reason arises: It is a call from the soul. It calls for a nightly meditation, which is often not intended to benefit the aspirant but rather another person or circumstance.
The prerequisite for entering into this dialogue—that is, for the door to be “opened”—is first and foremost the decision to take the step into meditation, the “seeking of the Kingdom of God.” The next point is just as crucial: one must be prepared to remain persistent and unwavering in regular meditation until something happens. It is not enough to think only in terms of months. It is like drilling a tunnel through a mountain range. It takes an eternity, but then comes the breakthrough. One must not grow sluggish and fall back into the routines of daily life. The main excuse here is: “No time!” Your sincerity is being tested. The Nazarene emphasizes this requirement to stay the course in Matthew (25:13).
Then it is essential to structure the meditation from the outset as a dialogue. This means that the phase of silence (see below) cannot simply be a stopping of thoughts, but must be understood as a conscious listening. This phase is initiated by a spiritual request, namely the aforementioned “invocation of the muse,” i.e., we ask the soul for dialogue. As mentioned, this is symbolically represented in the Arabic fairy tale by Aladdin rubbing the lamp he has discovered so that the genie appears. This approach corresponds to the “seeking” for spiritual awareness, as stated in Matthew chapter 6 or as William Penn calls it “the inner preparation of the heart.” Above all, the silence is not ended when one no longer feels like it or believes one can now step out. Rather, during the passive phase of silence, one waits for a feeling as a signal of release and only then ends it. This is a crucial point of practice. One does not decide for oneself, but leaves this decision to the inner voice: “Thy will be done!” It is, of course, clear that this conception of spiritual dialogue is a slap in the face to the ego, which always wants to be self-determined and independent.
In 1570, the mystic Valentin Weigel expressed the significance of silence, the highest form of meditation, as follows:
“God gives us beforehand what we ask for,
and comes to us beforehand, …
God commands us to love,
we are to love Him and our neighbor …
He also wants to work love within us Himself,
if only we could remain silent …”
(Church or Home Devotional. Gospel for the Sunday of Misericordias Domini)
Here, Weigel names charity, supplication, and silence as elements of meditation. Western religious systems essentially know only material supplication, whereas in the ancient Eastern scriptures, silence is a central component of the quest for access to the divine, precisely through meditation.
“Let him who practices yoga sit
in quiet seclusion
alone, master of his thoughts,
nothing earthly, only God in mind. …
… then subdue the host of senses
with a resolute spirit from within.”
(Bhagavad Gita VI; 10, 24)
The Practice of Meditation
Before beginning the actual meditation, one first draws one’s attention away from the body through progressive muscle relaxation or similar methods, and then away from thoughts and feelings . The decisive tool for mental control is the observation of thoughts. One learns to let them run into the void more and more, i.e., not to engage with them and certainly not to allow their constant repetition. Without conscious observation, they do as they please—when the cat is out of the house, so to speak—and that always ends badly for the individual. A mind free of thoughts is the prerequisite for the unfolding of the power of the soul (Spirit). At this moment, one undergoes the learning process that thinking and consciousness are two different things: one has freed oneself from the chatter of thoughts and is nevertheless awake and fully conscious. Through the loss of bodily sensation and then the cessation of mental activity, we leave the horizontal plane of consciousness and enter the vertical spiritual dimension of the inner sun.
Reflections have a place only in the first active phase of meditation. They serve to contemplating certain words of wisdom without judgment and examining them in relation to one’s own life situation from all angles in verbal form, such as: “My grace is sufficient for you” (2 Cor. 12:9). This leads to a state of calm in which the onslaught of the usual mental chatter subsides. A crucial method for warding off this barrage is to to mentally ascend to a higher plane: one imagines, for example, one’s own soul with its omnipotence as an aura surrounding the outline of one’s body. Furthermore, the sayings of wisdom and the associated thoughts serve to prevent elements of consciousness related to lack from taking hold. Therefore, in this phase, one typically reflects on spiritual content. When it comes to people, one regards them as souls and not as external human beings. The second part of the active phase involves questions regarding the current problem-solving process and certainly allows for concrete questions: “What should I do?” Then the transition to the passive mode of silence takes place. Silence is the most important component of prayer or meditation:
Silence brings the mind to rest, and then it becomes effective for the soul.
Silence is a demonstration of trust in inner guidance.
Silence is letting the soul’s power in and allowing it to take its course.
Silence is the counterpart to will and thus to the ego.
Silence prevents identification with thoughts.
Silence is the alternative to thinking about the divine.
Silence removes us from the judgment that anything is bad.
Silence detaches us from the problem and leads us to the truth of “full sufficiency.”
Silence leads to the discovery of one’s own identity and oneness (Ps. 46:10).
Silence leads to the realization that the problem is not mine, but that of the soul.
Silence deepens the insight “The Father within me does the works.”
Silence thus leads to communication with the divine core of being.
In the active phase of meditation, one by no means views the problem as a problem, but—as far as possible—entirely neutrally as a mere fact. This is not easy, for Mephisto brings out the heavy artillery in the form of threatening thoughts. What helps against this is the realization of the divine identity with omnipotence within. Every time panic arises, one immediately turns to one’s own inner identity as a child of God. Nor does one ask for the solution to the problem or for any otherwise desirable material condition. That would be a consciousness of lack, and deepening it through meditation would only make matters worse. Rather, one asks—as the only meaningful request—to receive the truth from within oneself. For the spiritual truth deep within the human being is the key to solving this very problem and indeed all problems—which exist solely to help us rediscover the truth of life. However, especially in urgent matters, it is indeed part of the process to ask for guidance: “What should I do?” or even better, “What is Your Will?”
It would sometimes be counterproductive to ask questions like “Who was that?” That would mean wanting to selfishly exploit the inner God. He would then serve, so to speak, as a spiritual telescope for the ego. However, it is perfectly fine—and above all, successful—to find out how one should behave or whether one should proceed in a certain way. A typical example: I have a choice between three cars when buying a vehicle and cannot decide because the multitude of individual factors and the relative importance of the various and disadvantages are not entirely clear to me. Provided there is a stable spiritual dialogue, proven by much experience, I tap in and receive the correct answer—one that is also successful in the long run—in whatever form it may take.
Without an act of fundamental forgiveness, we would need neither to continue the meditation nor to begin it in the first place. As long as hatred and resentment still smolder within, the necessary prerequisite for deep spiritual understanding is not yet present. One must realize that it is not the person in question who has harmed us, but the self-preservation program within them. Through this, one develops the necessary distance and understanding of why people “do not know what they are doing.” But since forgiveness is, after all, more the result than the prerequisite of meditation, we must inevitably live with such a contradiction for a time.
As long as one does not yet have the dialogue or an unmistakable gut feeling, one must inevitably act according to reason, suppressing the self-centered aspect and, as best as possible, take into account the greater good. For even when the sun’s radiance has reached me, it is not intended solely for me. After all, the sun does not shine only within the narrow confines of my garden, nor does it stop at the garden fence. Whatever well-being then arises is nothing other than a foundation for the spread of the sunshine to other people. There are many examples of this in everyday life, by the way, even when they have no spiritual background: It happens time and again that individuals or couples who have suffered a great misfortune have, driven by this impulse, founded initiatives to exchange experiences and make them available to others.
In the binary mode of communication with the inner voice, the difficulty lies in being able to explore only the possibilities conceivable to the limited mind and to ask for a yes or no answer. The limitation is obvious, because these are only the paths conceivable to the mind, even though some intuitive solutions go precisely beyond these limits of imagination and are nevertheless often strikingly simple. It is always about reuniting with the source of life, which thereby also connects us to one another. Incidentally, this also draws to us all those who belong to our state of consciousness.
When you want to reach someone by phone, you dial their number. But the dialing mechanism does not connect us directly to the person we are speaking with. That is not possible, because then there would have to be as many cable ends plugged into the wall behind the telephone jack as there are subscribers worldwide. Rather, the call goes (via group selectors as intermediate stations) to the central office; this connects the calling party to the called party via intermediate selectors. The central office is a higher level from which communication and thus “problem-solving” takes place. It brings about the achievement of the goal. In a spiritually successful life, one does not go from A to B, but from A to C (as in Central). This means, for example, that in the case of a lack of money or unemployment, one distances oneself from the problem in meditation while at goal B (the workplace), hands the matter over to the Self as C, and waits for guidance.
One goes inward, therefore, not to find the fault, but the truth. It follows that the subsequent external healing process came about through a change in consciousness and not through some god up there. One heals the consciousness vertically toward spirituality, and this heals the deficiency (see Chapter 10). One focuses not on the solution to the problem, but on the problem-solver. If, for example, one is without a partner and feels a longing for a relationship, one selflessly surrenders the realization of inner guidance in meditation and does not first turn to a dating service. Included in this attitude of “Thy will be done,” however, is also the acceptance that the soul may not currently have a partnership in mind. One avoids imagining a situation of lack, but instead fills one’s consciousness with one’s own divine identity and a fitting wisdom, such as the one mentioned above: “I have come that they may have life and have it in abundance,” or “Even when I don’t know which way to turn, I am an expression of a power that can handle this.” Then one begins to wait trustingly for the go-ahead in meditation and, later, for signs, information, constellations, or events that reveal or bring the solution. This can take time. A farmer cannot expect the grain he sowed in March to yield a harvest as early as April. In this way, one can achieve the balance between one’s own longing and selflessness. An ideal-typical example is the behavior of the Nazarene in the Garden of Gethsemane. There, he expresses to the “Father within me” his desire (!) that the cup of arrest and execution may pass from him, yet at the same time submits to his inner guidance. Aware of his spiritual identity, he aligns himself with the overarching plan. There are countless problems in our lives, both large and very small, but for all those whose solutions we truly need, there is an answer from within.
While the prayer of the everyday person aims at the fulfillment of material desires—even in the ritual recitation of prayer formulas such as the Lord’s Prayer—the main goal of inward-directed meditation is spiritual dialogue, communion with inner guidance. For it goes before us and levels all obstacles (Isa. 45:2)—including material ones—and leads to the ultimate destiny of every human being. It is the return to the “Father’s house,” as described in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. The prerequisite for this is regular, not merely occasional, meditation. It is . In addition to self-programming, it includes the quantitative aspect of recharging: Since a single charge of spiritual energy is not sufficient for an entire day —just as one does not eat only once a day—one needs a meditative retreat three times a day to avoid succumbing to the distractions of the external world in the long run. The material human cannot do without food and drink; the spiritual human cannot do without meditation. Without it, spiritual perception is almost impossible, because without it the mind cannot be set aside and mental calm cannot be attained.
As meditative experience increases, first, the individual mode changes repeatedly, and second, the meditative phases expand to the extent that short-term meditative elements are added: Before setting out on a journey, before entering a room, before taking the first bite of a meal, after being caught speeding, before a phone call or business meeting, before turning on the radio or computer, etc. This is extended further and further, so that not a quarter of an hour passes without an act of bringing the inner sun to mind, even without these external triggers. Ultimately, one can attain a state of consciousness characterized quantitatively by perhaps as much as 50% of one’s time spent in the “Kingdom of God”: This would then be a kind of ** Throne Room Consciousness. Some “Chosen Ones” (a term from the movie “The Matrix”) achieve more. The forefather of Christianity, Paul, describes this stage as praying “without ceasing.” To practice this, it can be helpful to use the timer function on your cell phone and set it to remind you of these brief meditations at regular intervals. So much for the quantitative aspect.
________________________________________________
* *If, for example, a medieval architect receives a commission from the king to expand the throne room and carries out his work on-site in that very hall, then even while highly focused on the designs, he will always be aware in the back of his mind of where he is. This dual or background awareness, which plays a major role in seeing through, shall be called “throne room awareness.”
The modern term for this is mindfulness, not concentration.
_________________________________________________
Qualitatively, the path to a mind free of thoughts is anything but easy, because negative thoughts of worry, retribution, etc.—that is, the contents—attempt to maintain the aspirant’s attachment to the non-spiritual, coarse physical environment.
The most important tool of the training is the observation of thoughts. It means not taking in their content, but their category. This means becoming aware that a cluster of thoughts, e.g., classified as “worry,” has just attempted to intrude. One ignores the content, does not allow it to intrude, and immediately turns to the self-knowledge of the inner God: Gnothi se auton! Hindus and Jains would say: OM!
In everyday life, there is a vast number of questions and thus of decisions regarding how we should proceed. This can concern interactions with partners, children, etc., finding suitable remedies or healers, or how to proceed in business or general professional matters. The many decisions that must be made day after day are often associated with serious consequences and not just to the purchase of, say, a used car. It involves choosing a partner, career crossroads, investments, personnel decisions, for managers at a manufacturer, it may involve deciding whether to focus on hybrid cars, electric cars, or those with fuel cells; career choices after school; financing, etc. Overall, these are all issues where there is no ultimate authority and which can have fatal consequences if the wrong decision is made. This even applies to advice from the chief physician, whose 60:40 statistic for predicting surgical success is only a very limited aid in decision-making. Many people create a list of pros and cons to help them decide because they rely on analytical thinking. There is nothing wrong with that at first glance, but it does not resolve the often-tight decisions; cannot resolve them. Ultimately, it all comes down to so-called gut decisions, always accompanied by the fear of having made the wrong choice and having to bear the responsibility. But such gut decisions have nothing to do with spiritually grounded reliability, because they occur unconsciously and are unfounded. Only spiritual dialogue brings certainty. However, this is no complete guarantee of success in one’s own sense, for the soul guides me under
the primacy of the greater good, and that does not always have to coincide with one’s own desires. For example, one may be extremely satisfied with one’s car and yet receive an impulse to buy a newer one. The impulse may also come from external sources, e.g., due to a total loss. Then one faces the problem of choice. When the subsequent question arises, “Which car?” inner guidance provides invaluable assistance in making a decision. Later, through one’s experiences with the new car—which one would never have bought without guidance—one can appreciate the wisdom of this guidance.
When it comes to guidance in material matters, it is also important not to want to use it as a tool, as an extended telescope for one’s own interests. The ego always wants to decide for itself and not relinquish control. That is why spiritual contact always involves obedient (!) execution, which is nothing other than the realization of the principle “Thy will be done!”
A young office worker is dissatisfied with his job, which he finds too monotonous. He asks within himself whether he should accept his acquaintance’s offer to work with him as a sales representative. The answer is yes. When the career change proved to be a failure, however, it helped him recognize his competencies and his role within the overall concept more clearly. He resumed his old job, but now with satisfaction and renewed motivation.
For the spiritual return, it is helpful to incorporate the study of the wisdom texts alongside regular meditation and to observe the corresponding intuitive implementation.
Phases of Meditation
What constitutes modern meditation consists, roughly summarized, of three phases. For preparation—lying down or in the yoga posture with eyes closed—the following points are important: One goes into one’s “… little room, closes the door … and prays in secret … “
______________________________________________
* Shankara illustrates the rejection of the barrage of thoughts with the image that the cobra’s venom cannot take effect unless it enters the body.
______________________________________________
Then, through progressive muscle relaxation or similar techniques, one cultivates a state that leads to the loss of bodily awareness. This is the foundation for the second step: the loss of mental and emotional awareness. Only when the earthly, material factors have been set aside is space created for the soul’s activity.
After overcoming physical and psychological sensations, one begins by attentively observing the stream of thoughts that one has not invited and that rushes upon one uninvited. So, as mentioned, one does not engage with the content, but merely takes note of the title, something like this: Look at that, here comes a thought of anger. Observation is thus not content-based—that is, perceiving fearful or aggressive thoughts as such—but rather we characterize the thought in question purely formally, statistically, so to speak: “Ah, a fearful thought.” This makes it more difficult for it to spread or repeat itself. For as long as thoughts can repeatedly intrude into meditation, it becomes too severely disrupted.
Successfully blocking them is a crucial prerequisite for meditation and thus for opening the channel of communication. The best tool is to immediately switch from the horizontal, earthly plane of thought to the vertical, spiritual one. The first choice here is to become aware of one’s own divine core. Points of reference such as words from the wisdom teachings of religious founders—such as those of Jesus—are helpful, for example: “The Kingdom of God is within you!” (Luke 17:12)
Visual imagery also supports the prevention of thoughts of anger, fear, and aggression (see above): These are not attempts to make the invisible visible, but rather to form a helpful mental image of the spiritual part of one’s own identity, of one’s individual sonship of God.
– Paul: “The one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.” (1 John 4:4)
– Quran: “We created man and … are closer to him than his jugular vein.” (Sura 50:15)
– Hindu god Krishna: “Whoever boldly walks the path inward will soon reach the divine realm.”
(Bhagavad Gita: V, 6). Or:
– “Whoever immerses himself completely in me and always knows me within himself is closest to salvation“
(Gita: XII, 2)
In Greek mythology, meditation is symbolically expressed through the fifth labor of Heracles, who defeated the Nemean lion, a negative, bestial monster of thought(!), by entering the lion’s cave, sealing both (!) entrances (eyes), and there strangling the beast unarmed (!)—thus depriving it of the air it needs to breathe. Allowing thoughts of fear, lack, and anger to take root is the very foundation of one’s personal vale of tears. But if we move beyond observing the stream of thoughts into the vertical realm of silence, the attacks no longer have a foothold; they cannot take root and are therefore stifled. Thus the channel for the inner voice is cleared, for observation takes on the perspective of our soul. We shift the vantage point of our contemplation to our higher self.
“If you wish to hear the eternal Word
speaking within you,
you must first
restrain yourself entirely from restlessness.”
(Angelus Silesius: Cherubic Wanderer I, 85)
This overcomes the desire to possess and the orientation toward the rules of the external world—and thus the source of evil. Until this works, there are various aids. We hold our breath from time to time.
In that moment, the mental turmoil is also halted. We do this until the shift toward our spiritual “self” works more effectively. Additionally, we can momentarily intimidate the flood of thoughts by asking: “Who dares to intrude next?” These little aids, however, are intended only as temporary tools for getting started and lose their significance with increasing practice. Then we free ourselves from any hostility toward unwelcome contemporaries by seeing through to their spiritual core. The interaction between the two souls—within me and within the opponent—is always harmonious. This is a powerful tool in any dispute. Without the accompanying constant forgiveness, or at least the effort toward it, we need not—except in the early stages—proceed any further; it would obstruct access to the Divine.
Then we ask for enlightenment for the world, not for ourselves. This is an important point, for the sun shines on everyone. In this respect, those who pray in this way bear a certain responsibility for subsequent events on the earthly plane. As always, our attention is not on ourselves but on the greater good: In a dispute, for example, over child custody following a divorce, it is all too often merely about the realization of ego-centered interests, by hook or by crook. If each partner were to try to at least adopt the position of the family court judge, for whom the child’s welfare is the primary concern, much would be accomplished for peace and, at the same time, the dissolution of the ego program.
The second phase consists of the contemplative part of the meditation and is the first focal point of the entire process, another active part of the meditation. This phase consists of contemplating a spiritual truth (here primarily drawn from Christian wisdom), such as:
– “The Kingdom of God is within you.
– “You would have no power unless it were given to you from above.”
– “Seventy times seven times, forgive my brother who sins against me.”
At this point, the activity of the mind is already reduced; negative thought attacks play a lesser role, and consciousness is largely filled with the statement of truth and its manifestation in our lives. Without the contemplation of such principles in every meditation, its effectiveness is significantly limited.
This phase of meditation also includes spiritual analysis—the examination of our decisions or behaviors from spiritual perspectives, whether we are considering future plans or evaluating crisis-ridden experiences, misreactions, etc., especially regarding reliance on the mind, which cannot be relied upon because it is not a decision-making authority but an instrument; and all too often for the sake of the ego.
The essential characteristic of this contemplation is that one observes an object, a state, a situation, or a person without desire, without fear, and without good or bad. Then the contemplation is ego-less and freed from the good-bad thought pattern.
Suppose I have a member in my tennis club who, like me, plays poorly. When we play doubles together and he makes a particularly large number of technical errors, he shouts out his frustration but does not take it personally, only to then, when I make mistakes, shower me with a barrage of accusations. Clearly, he projects his own shortcomings onto the nearest scapegoat. If I were now, as people normally do, to defend myself or—in the worst-case scenario and yet a common one—to respond with a counterattack by pointing out his own abysmal play, escalation and a lasting poisoning of the atmosphere throughout the entire team would be inevitable. If, on the other hand, I know—or make it clear to myself in a moment’s meditation—that I am a bearer of the Son of God, that the interaction of our two souls is always and fundamentally harmonious, and that evil is powerless, I no longer need to strike back outwardly at all (although this may eventually be necessary with particularly stubborn individuals). Internally, I counter the instinct-driven impulses and thoughts that demand my resistance with the appropriate truth, such as “He does not know what he is doing.” Then, due to the dominance of the soul’s power, my ego no longer has the energy to act on my instincts for self-preservation and dominance. I recognize the Son of God with his omnipotence within me and then also within him, and I let the insults bounce off me with a certain degree of calm. Then a miracle happens. He becomes increasingly meek, even if this can take a long time. During later training sessions, he becomes increasingly accommodating—though with occasional flares of ego. Through my recognition of my (and his) spiritual soul, his has a much easier time to break through his ego.
Only by seeing through things do we reach the purely good, under the shelter of the Most High, to the perspective of the spiritual soul. If we were to bring evil into our meditation and also perceive it as evil, instead of understanding it as a wake-up call to repentance, evil becomes real. But if I examine my bankruptcy, my failed marriage, my serious illness, my opponent, etc., in a neutral light and mentally go through all aspects in connection with the corresponding spiritual principles, then the evil will fade away.
Here, “spiritual principle” means that my competitor, my ex, my enemy, etc., are in reality in (spiritual) unity with me—like the fingers of a hand through the shared bloodstream. Therefore, in contemplation, I imagine myself as endowed with an aura which I radiate, and my enemies with one just like it. Then I begin to understand that true self-preservation is only possible if I am not there just for myself (which, however, 99% of all people believe and follow), but first and foremost for all other people. Then, and only then, is my own self-preservation secured. This is precisely what the so-called “Golden Rule” means.
Then I have gained the realization that there is nothing I need to worry about. Problems and reflections that contain divisions into good and bad therefore have no place in meditation, not even “good” ones, for “good” is a category of the material human being, and problem scenarios inherently contain evil and thus cannot be part of spiritual, truthful contemplation. For creation is “very good.” Especially in meditation, “demons” have the ability to become deepened consciousness faster than anything else and thus bring about disaster.
This is illustrated by the story of the sailor who, at the start of a meticulously planned sailing trip, suffers a serious accident—his boat capsizes—then wakes up in the hospital and asks his spiritual teacher why this could have happened to him, even though he had meditated for an extra-long and intense period before setting out to protect himself from the manifold dangers (!?) in the strong currents near the coast!
This means that even when faced with pressing questions, we must under no circumstances frame the problems as negative. In this way, we detach ourselves from the object, from the surface, from the appearance. We look behind the scenes, grasping precisely the spiritual essence. In the case of an enemy, for example, we then see only his divine identity, in a crisis, its deeper meaning. Then we have eliminated consciousness-shaping evil by avoiding judgments. The Tanakh would say: This is paradise. Already in this phase, it can happen that, with sufficient perseverance, intuition kicks in and provides us with insights we might never have arrived at on our own. We can also ask questions which decision the soul recommends, and also ask for guidance if we have not the slightest idea where the journey should lead—just as Odysseus allows himself to be advised and guided by the goddess Athena. In advanced meditation, we often receive clear answers immediately, though occasionally the answers take their time. They arrive at a more opportune moment (Kairos) or in a different form. The form of the answers varies greatly from person to person: they can be visual impressions similar to dream images, they can be subtle hints related to the question, or meaningful experiences clearly connected to the question; but mainly they are a binary-coded confirmation through deep breathing, a feeling of liberation, or even words that one hears clearly and aloud, even though they are silent.
A clear criterion for the receipt and clarity of the information is present when typical accompanying phenomena occur: the sound of silence grows louder, even booming; a tingling sensation sets in the palms of the hands, etc. The physical presence of the soul becomes palpable and must be so. The presence of the soul’s power must eventually become noticeable and perceptible; then we can be sure that the connection is there and that it is unfolding its power. “It is a ‘Here I am’ that you cannot hear, but can feel from head to toe.” (Rumi: The Mathnawi II, 1193)
The third phase is the one in which the streams of thought have completely come to rest and in which the focus is on remaining in silence in oneness with the Son of God within. This is a stage that would be virtually unbearable for the material human being. Only then, however, does the “thinking of the soul” become truly effective. This central component of the interaction differs fundamentally from active contemplation. Conscious being without mental activity is a state that is dangerous for the ego within the human being. That is why the moment of silence, the pause, the stillness—above all, an interruption of thought—is terrifying and destructive for the ego, because during such intervals the soul’s knocking becomes more audible. If even in conversations every pause in speech quickly becomes awkward, an interruption of the stream of thought is truly dangerous. That is why there are people who fall into a state of sheer panic when attempting to create meditative silence.
The basic attitude when entering this silent phase is not aimless, but one of listening, of tuning in to inner impulses, which is initiated by the request “Speak!”
Without this mindset, it becomes significantly more difficult to sustain the thought-free phase. As we listen, we await the soul’s response and prepare ourselves for the coming dialogue with it through our receptivity. This is the realm without words or thoughts that Meister Eckhart refers to with the expression “ane bilde”. Actually entering into this dialogue means that, as in a physical conversation, we communicate with our inner guidance through (limited) questions and answers.
What has always been taking place—namely, the soul’s attempts to reach us through certain dreams, signs, and urgent sensations—was never understood as the soul seeking us, but was regularly corrupted by the ego program within us (“Dreams are just dreams,” “borders on a miracle,” etc.). But: “Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”
This means that meditation is the key to experiencing the truth that is essential for life. But how can this word “from the mouth of God” be heard through the constant stream of words and thoughts? The incessant ramblings of uninvited thoughts are the ego’s decisive means of preventing the soul from making itself known. Thus, the Gita also clearly states:
“Try to wander anew
the fluttering flock of thoughts,
bring them back again and again,
until they dispel the Self’s stillness.”
(VI, 26)
“Whoever thus unites with the Eternal,
frees himself from separate will,
will, full of joy, become aware
of the presence of the God within.”
(VI, 28)
The good news is that it is indeed possible to put a stop to the barrage of thoughts, even if this requires persistent practice. The common misunderstanding is typically expressed in the following statements: “I have to (!?) think about it all the time!” Or: “I think about it every day!” A misunderstanding with serious consequences.
The taming of the onslaught of thoughts is, at least for the West, a realization that—apart from the mystics—is not yet very old. The first translations of the wisdom of the East did not appear until the mid-19th century, and they were not widely disseminated until a hundred years later. After long and persistent practice, moments arise sporadically but with increasing frequency in which one senses the approach of the eternal self.
In the passive phase, we therefore listen for the “quiet, gentle voice” and wait for it to become audible to us. For whoever asks must also make room for the answer. We thus make ourselves receptive to it.
In the example of the feeding of the 5,000, we can clearly see how Jesus demonstrates this: He listened, thus switching off his problem-solving mind, gave thanks (!), thus turning inward, and received (see Chapter 8).
This is precisely what the ego tries to prevent by any means necessary, for that would be its end.
“If the doors of perception(!) were cleansed,
everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.
For man has closed himself up …”
[“If the doors of perception were cleansed,
everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.
But man has closed himself up …”]
(William Blake: The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: A Memorable Fancy)
For successful meditation, listening is not the only decisive factor. Equally important is how we end this state of stillness: we wait for a soul impulse of release. This will likely not occur at first (not just for a few months), but eventually, if we have been persistent and tenacious enough.
“Whoever strives with all their might, we can redeem them.
And if love has indeed
descended upon them from above,
the blessed host will meet them
with a warm welcome.”
(Goethe, Faust II, Mountain Gorges, Chorus of Angels)
Then there will be some kind of sensation that signals to us that it is now time to stop contemplating, that the moment has come when the soul agrees and signals our exit.
Without waiting for this release, the entire attempt to establish a direct “connection” to the inner voice, to the “C” switchboard, is made more difficult. For permission means that the soul has already touched us. Only through this touch do we come under the “shield of the Most High.” Only then can we say that the dialogue has begun.
This rough three-part structure changes in the course of spiritual progress. The spiritual seeker experiences that phases, forms, periods, and contents change individually in the course of development.
Through the dialogical approach to meditation, we—like a “broken-off branch” that would otherwise wither—are grafted back in. In this respect, meditation is the opposite of conventional prayer. It is not what emanates from the person, but what flows toward them; it is the breakthrough of the gentle, soft voice (1 Kings 19:12–13) toward conscious interaction between the outer and inner self. In this sense, we do not find the soul, but it finds us. And we “knock,” make ourselves receptive to it, and begin to become its instrument.
A classic example is the “voice” of Joan of Arc mentioned above. What is striking about Joan is that she makes no reference whatsoever to the Church in order to receive spiritual guidance from it. It is always about direct contact and never about an intermediary authority. She did not need it. This characterizes the function of spiritual dialogue achieved through meditation in comparison to the role of the Church:
“I do believe that the militant Church cannot err or fail. But I entrust and leave my words and deeds solely to God, who commanded me to do what I have done.” (In: DIE ZEIT, No. 2, Jan. 5, 2012)
The same abstinence from external influences can, incidentally, be found in the great spiritual novel of the Middle Ages, “Parzival ” (Wolfram von Eschenbach), in which the hero, on his path to salvation, refrains from any connection to the church community. It was also Meister Eckhart who very clearly contested the church’s monopoly on the mediation of salvation.
The raging fury of Scottish Presbyterians toward the Quakers can be seen in the following outburst: “Cursed be all who say that everyone has a light sufficient to lead them to Christ”
(Paul Held: The Quaker George Fox. Ch. 1)
For a whole range of religious organizations, the existence of this direct connection is a challenge, as it robs them of their privilege of mediating between God and humanity. This is a threat to them. That is why they absolutely do not want people to confess directly to the soul, but insist on using the clergy for this purpose.
That is why they exclude mystics such as Al-Hallaj, Jesus, Meister Eckhart, or Joan of Arc—a practice that, at least in principle, is no different today. But since they no longer have access to the stake, they now replace exclusion with separation.
(But here too, it would be superficial to hold organizations or individuals responsible. The evil has nothing to do directly with the individuals, who are merely conveyors of the general program of self-preservation. So, fundamentally, it is not the church representatives, but the ego program within them.)
Effective—because dialogical—meditation, accompanied by the renunciation of material begging, can be recognized by the fact that life becomes more harmonious. The fruits of the spiritual consciousness that develops in this way are a clearly discernible increase in harmony in interpersonal relationships—which also affects the children—as well as well-being and security in everyday life. It paves the way out of constant worry, aggression, and fear; it paves the way out of suffering.
“Then the Self has attained its goal.
Thus does yoga dissolve attachment to suffering.
Therefore, practice it with determination,
so that liberation may be yours as well.”
(Bhagavad Gita VI, 23)