Quest Magazine

?Printed in the Winter 2014 issue of Quest magazine. Citation: Boyd, Tim. "Got Wisdom?" Quest 102. 4 (Winter 2014): pg. 10-11, 40.

 By Tim Boyd

Recently, while I was visiting one of our Theosophical groups, one of the members asked me a question. Obviously it was someone who was not in the habit of asking the easy ones. The question was, "What is wisdom?" As sometimes happens when I'm called upon to speak to a question which is unanswerable, an odd thought dropped into my mind. It drew me back over thirty years.

In May 1980 the world's media descended on the state of Washington. For almost two months the eyes of the world had been turning to watch the unfolding events at Mount St. Helens. For over one hundred years the volcano had lain dormant, but in March geologists had detected seismic activity around it. They had also been monitoring a rapid swelling on the mountain's north side, as molten magma from deep beneath the earth's surface pressed its way upward. The scientific community was certain that Mount St. Helens was on the verge of erupting. All of the media attention, along with word of mouth, had turned the area into a tourist mecca. Curiosity seekers hired planes and helicopters to fly over the volcano. Before the National Guard was called in to seal off the area, people were driving their families to hike up the mountainside and to picnic at its base. A nervous expectancy enveloped the entire scene.

On May 18, at 8:32 a.m., the anticipated eruption took place. Even though it was expected, the magnitude of its destructive force was shocking. I can remember watching the time-lapsed photographs of the entire north side of the 9000-foot-high mountain collapsing and being propelled up and out by the blast; the ancient glacier that was melted in a matter of minutes and poured out as steam and mudflows engulfing everything in their path; the plume of ash going up miles into the atmosphere. I also remember my sense of humility and insignificance in the face of such power.

The toll of the volcano's destruction was quantified but impossible to fully imagine. Every living thing within a 230-square-mile area was killed—every person, every tree, every plant, 11 million animals—everything. Bridges, highways, railroad tracks, buildings, all of the supposedly enduring monuments of human importance disappeared.

A few years after the eruption, I was on a plane flying to Seattle. The pilot came on the public address system to announce that we were about to fly near Mount St. Helens. I looked out the window and marveled. The first thing that struck me was the barrenness. Everything was gray and dead. It made me think of pictures I had seen of the surface of the moon. The next thing that impressed me was the state of the dense forests that had been standing at the time of the eruption. Every single tree for miles had been blown down by the force of the explosion. Thousands of regal eighty-foot pine trees were fanned out on the ground like matchsticks, all of them lying side by side, pointing, like so many compass needles, to the epicenter of the blast. It was awe-inspiring.

Ten years after my first flight over the area, I was again on a plane heading for Seattle. Again the pilot flew over Mount St. Helens. Looking down on the land, I was amazed at what I saw. What ten years earlier had been lifeless and gray was alive and verdant. Trees were springing up all over. Animals had returned to the area and were flourishing. Vegetation was thriving in the soil that had been fertilized by the mineral-rich volcanic ash. The changes that time had brought about, and the inseparable link between the earlier destruction and today's vibrant creation, made an impression on me. When the question about wisdom came up, all of these things popped up in my mind.

In Sanskrit the term for wisdom is prajna. The same word is used in Buddhism for one of the six paramitas (perfections). In conventional practice each of the paramitas is regarded as an antidote to some of our limitations. So the paramita of generosity is an antidote to a mind of lack or limitation; patience is an antidote to anger; meditation is an antidote for mental wandering. Wisdom is said to be the antidote for everything, because it addresses the fundamental condition of ignorance—wrong knowing. Simply put, we are wise when we can see things as they are. Wisdom could be called the perception of reality. The Voice of the Silence says that the key to prajna "makes of a man a god."

In the ordinary way we use the term, we believe that wisdom comes with age, or with experience, or that people with extensive knowledge are wise. So, when in the presence of an old, experienced person with extensive knowledge, we conclude that they must be wise. For many, a gray-haired professor who rides a Harley-Davidson motorcycle would fit the bill. Because we are as yet relatively undeveloped people, our habit is to mistake knowledge for wisdom. To know that the shirt I am wearing is green is not qualitatively different from knowing that the universe is composed of trillions of stars and is expanding at a certain rate. Nor is it different from knowing the history of H.P. Blavatsky and of the writing of The Secret Doctrine. These are facts—small, neutral things that bear no relationship to wisdom. Some of the great tyrants and despots in history have been extremely knowledgeable and superficially cultured people whose knowledge did nothing to limit their cruelty. In the words of HPB, "It is at the expense of wisdom that intellect generally lives." The phenomenon of the "educated fool" is far too common. The simple arithmetic is that knowledge does not equal wisdom.

In Buddhism one word that is used as a synonym for wisdom is "emptiness." Although the mental process stalls in the absence of things to compare and contrast, the word "emptiness" at least suggests something about the nature of wisdom. It is best described negatively. It has no qualities, no form, no feeling, no knowledge. It also has no lack of these things. In many ways it is like space, which contains all things, defines all things, but cannot be identified by any or all of them. In Krishna's words from the Bhagavad Gita, "Having pervaded this universe with a fragment of myself, I remain."

One of my favorite sections of the Bhagavad Gita is chapter eleven, where Arjuna asks for Krishna to reveal himself in his true form. Prior to this moment in the story, Arjuna had regarded Krishna chiefly as his friend and charioteer. As the conversation that forms the basis of the Gita unfolds, he becomes convinced of Krishna's divinity, but the full measure of what that might mean is still unknown to him.

When Krishna allows Arjuna to see his "universal form," it causes Arjuna's mind to reel. He sees the entire universe within his body. Krishna has numberless faces seeing in all directions, countless mouths devouring the living and "licking up all the worlds." All of the gods and great beings are within his form. He sees Krishna's radiance "burning the entire universe." The vision of this divine form embracing creation, destruction, and maintenance of the universe is more than Arjuna can handle. So much so that he pleads with Krishna to return to a more familiar, less dreadful and expansive form. Reality is hard to take.

The point is made that even though, by its very nature, we cannot grasp wisdom or conceptualize it, we can and do experience it. In the poet's words, it is "closer . . . than breathing, nearer than hands and feet." The Voice of the Silence describes wisdom as "the flame of Prajna that radiates from Atman"—the highest, or most inward reaches of ourselves, universal and impersonal.

Chapters eight and nine of the apocryphal Wisdom of Solomon give a beautiful and esoteric description of wisdom and the process of acquiring it. For Solomon, wisdom is feminine. She is described as a woman who "mightily reaches from one end [of the universe] to another and sweetly orders all things." Solomon sought wisdom above all else and "perceived that I could not obtain her, except God [Atman] gave her to me: and that the point of wisdom is also to know whose gift she was: I prayed to the Lord and sought Him . . . with my whole heart." Then he prays, "Send her out of your holy heavens, and from the throne of your glory, that being present she may labor with me, that I may know what is pleasing to you." Rightly understood, this is powerful.

Rays of light are constantly streaming from the sun. The only things that prevent them from falling on us are the obstacles that stand in between the clouds in the sky, or the walls that surround us. Remove those, and in the words of the "born again" of whatever faith, our experience will be "I see the light." The point of any spiritual path is to recognize and transcend those clouds of emotion and thought that wall us off from the beauty, gratitude, joy, peace, clarity, and compassion that come with the experience of oneness that we name wisdom. As much as I travel in airplanes these days, I am still impressed every time the plane takes off on a cloudy or rainy day; how it rises in darkness, enters the blindness of the cloud layer, then comes out the other side to the full shining of the sun. It is not that emotion ceases, or thought disappears. They are simply seen for what they are—our own internal weather.

Our fleeting encounters with wisdom are marked by a sense of harmony and power, and often catch us unaware. There are those rare moments when, while we are gazing on the magnificence of a setting sun or lost in wonder at the spontaneous joy of children at play, our fascination with ourselves momentarily evaporates. At these times the walls of worry and thought that we carry with us briefly fall away. When the moment passes, we look back and notice that we were peaceful and worry-free. Although the cares and problems in the world had not gone away, for that moment they were subsumed in a larger vision.

For the truly wise, there are no boundaries, no differences, no ordinary moments. Whether poor or rich, sick or healthy, in the midst of destruction or ecstatic creation, they see something more. Sir Edwin Arnold's poetic rendition of the Gita shows the vision of the wise:

"Never the spirit was born;
the spirit shall cease to be never;
Never was time it was not; 
End and Beginning are dreams!
Birthless and deathless and changeless remaineth the spirit for ever;
Death hath not touched it at all."

May we all grow in wisdom. 

Printed in the Winter 2014 issue of Quest magazine. Citation: Smoley, Richard. "From the Editor's Desk" Quest 102. 4 (Winter 2014): pg. 2.

The goal of Christianity, by contrast, has generally been salvation. Salvation does not confer, or pretend to confer, any special advantages in this life: it does not in and of itself make you wiser or more illumined. Rather it is a kind of guarantee for deliverance in the afterlife. With it, you go to heaven; without it, you go to hell. 

Little by little, the Christian goal of salvation has been losing its hold on the Western imagination, if only because of the logical contradiction of an infinitely merciful God condemning a soul to eternal damnation for the offenses of a few decades on earth. Moreover, the birth of modern psychology in the nineteenth century aroused interest in higher states of cognition that bypassed conventional religion, as we see in William James's Varieties of Religious Experience. 

Today, over a hundred years after James, enlightenment has become a buzzword and something of a gimmick. Years ago, in a New Age throwaway in San Francisco, I remember seeing an ad for a group of people that were planning to shoot for full enlightenment one weekend. I wonder how far they got. 

A number of books have explored these topics: the more memorable ones include Georg Feuerstein's Holy Madness and The Mother of God by Luna Tarlo, a woman's account of her experience with an abusive guru who happened to be her own son. (You would think that an enlightened master would have more sense than to take on his mother as a pupil.) But the problem persists. Recently I was on "Mind Shift," a Web talk show with Jay Michaelson, author of Evolving Dharma: Meditation, Buddhism, and the Next Generation of Enlightenment. Jay remarked that there were abusive Zen masters who even had certificates of enlightenment from their lineages. (I don't know what a certificate of enlightenment would look like, but I would love to have one.) 

What's going on here? Enlightened beings might be expected to behave at least somewhat better than ordinary mortals, but they often seem to act worse. Arethey like Nietzsche's superman, who has transcended good and evil so that moral categories no longer apply? 

Recently I was discussing this topic with my good friend John Cianciosi, who lived for over twenty-three years as a Buddhist monk and is now director of programming at Olcott. (John's article "Calm and Clear: Samatha and Vipassana Meditation" appears in this issue.) I asked him what enlightenment meant in Buddhist thought. He replied that according to the traditional scriptures, an enlightened being is one in whom the Three Poisons—desire, anger, and delusion—have been completely eradicated. 

This casts some light on the situation. Many times enlightenment is portrayed as a kind of sudden cognitive awakening. But it has to be more than that. After all, as James showed, cognitive awakening is relatively common. While it usually transforms those who experience it, it does not bestow utter omniscience or benevolence upon them, nor does it free them from the Three Poisons. As often as not, the experience comes at the start of the spiritual path, and the individual has to go through a long process of discipline and purification in order to anchor it in his being 

Thus enlightenment, rather than being something that a bunch of wide-eyed aspirants can attain over a weekend or something that occurs in a blinding flash of cognitive light, is extraordinarily rare. Certainly I have never met anyone who was even close to being enlightened in this sense, and while there are accounts of enlightened ones in recent times, they are far removed from us and sometimes semilegendary. 

We could draw two conclusions from all this. We could decide that enlightenment is simply a myth—an illusory carrot dangled in front of the aspirant's nose. Or we can assume that it does exist; it's just very rare. I prefer the second option myself, if only because it jibes with my own intuition that it is the task of human beings to experience the full range of possibilitieson this physical plane. If you can think of it, someone somewhere has tried it (and done it, if it's feasible within the limits of physical possibilities). History gives us evidence of the grossest acts of cruelty and the sublimest acts of wisdom and compassion. Human potential may not be boundless, but it is effectively so. People are capable of anything—probably even enlightenment. 

VOLUME 102, NUMBER 1

CONTENTS

Calm and Clear: Samatha and Vipassana Meditation
John Cianciosi

Milarepa: From Sinner to Saint
Cynthia Overweg

The Morality of Meditation
David DeSteno

Make a Joyful Noise: How I Learned to Meditate amidst the Mayhem
Arlene Gay Levine

A Serpentine Path
Amy Gardner

From the Editor's Desk
Richard Smoley

Viewpoint: Got Wisdom?
Tim Boyd

President's Diary 

Printed in the Fall 2013 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Boyd, Tim. "President's Diary" Quest  101. 4 (Fall 2013): pg. 154-155.

By Tim Boyd

The month of April started with me visiting the TS group in Detroit. This spring trip has become something of a tradition. Probably every year for the past twenty has found me visiting my Detroit TS friends. The Detroit Lodge is one of those exemplary groups that have maintained a stable and fully functional approach to the study of the Ageless Wisdom. Over the years every group has its ups and downs. Some respond well; some give up and close their doors. Detroit has responded very well to deaths of prominent leaders, relocations of people and premises, changing popular tastes, and the day-to-day, week-to-week, year-to-year chemistry of group interaction. 

As most of you know, our Olcott national headquarters is a beautiful campus, with buildings, lawns, pond, and groves of trees. In all it comprises forty-two acres. Mark Roemmich is in charge of the seemingly impossible job of maintaining and beautifying the whole thing. He does an incredible job. This year, on Earth Day, he organized a work party for staff. Everyone who could came out in their work clothes after lunch. Mark formed us into groups, and off we went with rakes, clippers, and shovels in hand to clean up the leaves and debris that had accumulated over our long winter. A couple of weeks earlier we had also experienced the worst episode of flooding in almost three decades. So there were some odd accumulations of tree branches and soil in unusual places that we had to address. Weatherwise, it was a gorgeous day—one of those days when you look out the window and wish you had some good reason to leave your desk and go outside. It was a genuine pleasure to work and talk with fellow staff members in this different setting. Clearly many of them were quite familiar with using a rake and shovel. After the afternoon of sweaty work, I slept quite well that night. 

April also celebrated the first anniversary of our Children's Bedtime Stories. A year before, my wife, Lily, along with Pat Griebeler, Danelys Valcarcel, Lois Pederson, and Dan Smolla, had the idea of developing some programming for kids. They wanted to keep it simple. The parents and students at the Prairie School of DuPage quickly became big supporters. Now, one Friday evening each month, they all gather in our library for music and stories told by some first-rate storytellers. 

In May we had a long-awaited visit from Eboo Patel. Many of you remember him as the moderator for our interreligious panel during the Dalai Lama's visit  in 2011. Eboo is a world-class figure in the interfaith community. He is a young man, a Rhodes scholar, and founder of the Interfaith Youth Core (IFYC), which has blossomed on college campuses across the country. His work has involved young people in addressing religious prejudices not merely by dialogue, but through concerted action. He came to give a Thursday night talk on his latest book, Sacred Ground, which addresses the United States' history of religious inclusion. It was an excellent talk. Unfortunately it was marred by something I had never witnessed before at any Theosophical presentation. During the question and answer period an audience member took the opportunity to attack Eboo's work, Islam, and religion in general. Had that been the full extent of it, it would not have been a problem. Everyone has a right to their opinion. However, this man's agenda was to take over the conversation and use the gathering as a platform for his extended rant. When it became clear that he did not intend to sit down and allow others to speak, he was ushered out of the building and off the grounds. 

May also saw our third annual White Lotus Day Meditation Retreat. Staff members Jim Bosco, Juliana Cesano, Pablo Sender, and I took turns presenting the theory and practice of a variety of forms of meditation.We were also joined by Andrew Vidich, who is a professor,author, and longtime meditation practitioner, and by Meredith Bosco, who led a walking meditation at our labyrinth. 

In June the Order of the Round Table, led by Mark and Kim Roemmich, had their annual pre–Father's Day campout. About thirty parents and children set up their tents on the north side of the building. They had a fire circle, sang songs, played games, roasted marshmallows, told stories, and just generally had a good time. 

A little later in the month we had our farewell celebration for Jeff Gresko. Jeff has been working full-time at Olcott since 1987—twenty-six years. His tenure here is actually even longer than that, because before he settled in full-time, he would work here a while, travel around the world, then come back and work some more. Over the years Jeff has been involved in every aspect of life and work at the headquarters. He has worked on grounds and maintenance, in accounting and housekeeping, in the bookstore and kitchen, and in the audiovisual department. During John Algeo's  administration, although the title had not yet been developed, he functioned as the chief of staff. He is one of those people who will never impress you with his ability to quote the standard Theosophical texts, but whose every action shows a life immersed in love of community and the example of selfless service. The fact that Jeff almost violently resists recognition made our celebration that much more fun for us. He had to sit there and take it. 

Another in our broadening spectrum of children's programs took place in June. "Comforting Your Child with Therapeutic Touch" was presented by Marilyn Johnston. Marilyn is a professor of nursing who trained directly with Dora Kunz in Therapeutic Touch for thirteen years. The method is successful in dealing with pain and discomfort at all levels, but children are particularly responsive. The two-hour session was designed to give parents simple tools to deal with the numerous discomforts and energy imbalances that confront their children. Although the crowd was mostly composed of mothers and their kids, there was also a sprinkling of fathers and grandparents who came for the training.  

One sad event marked the month of June. Karole Kettering, longtime member of the Theosophical Society and wife of our treasurer, Floyd, had a massive stroke and died. My first memories of Karole go back almost forty years, when she and Floyd were the focus for the Young Theosophists group at the time. They were married, and Floyd worked on the Olcott staff. They lived in one of the houses on the grounds. Frequently they would host meetings in their home. Floyd and Karole were a little older than the rest of us and had a way of grounding some of the high-flying idealism and impracticality that were a part of our youthful exuberance. Karole was always full of life and laughter.

About thirty-five years ago Karole started a Christmas food drive for less fortunate families in the area. Over time her efforts evolved into the Humanitarian Service Project, a huge operation spanning two counties that provides food for seniors and families, gifts at Christmas, educational supplies for schoolkids, and other service avenues. 

A memorial service was held for Karole here at Olcott, which filled the auditorium and overflowed into the library and lobby, where the service was also broadcast. She lived a large life and touched countless people. 

As I write this I have just returned from a two pronged event in Brazil. I was the featured speaker at the Brazilian Section's nineteenth annual International School. Then, on the day that I was returning to the U.S., I gave the opening address for the Luso Hispanic Conference, which continued for another three days after I left. The events were attended by around 200 members from Brazil and the rest of Latin America. Both conferences were held at the Instituto Teosficode Bras­lia, which in Portuguese is named Para­so na Terra—"Paradise on Earth." For many years I have heard about the activity of the Brazilian Section and about the center they have developed at the institute. They purchased the land in 1990, and in 1993 they hosted the TS World Congress there. It is truly a visionary project with an array of impressive structures which include lodging, a meeting space that can accommodate 500, dining facilities, and a beautiful Greek-style temple built on the edge of a mountain. The property is about the size of the whole city of Wheaton, where we have our national headquarters. It is an hour drive from the capital city of Bras­lia and is about a mile high. It has natural springs and waterfalls in many places, one of which I swam in during a break from the conference. It was a high-energy gathering. Although language can be something of a barrier, I know just enough Spanish to get into trouble. For those who spoke Portuguese, hand gestures, eye contact, and good intentions seemed to go a long way. I made many new friends. 

At the time of this writing, our Summer National Convention begins in one day. It will be followed directly by the Theosophical Order of Service International Conference.  Already people are starting to gather. This year we will have more than forty visitors from overseas. Once a year old friends and new gather for this event. Christmas is great, but year after year this is my favorite time.