Life Review at the Gate of Death

Printed in the  Summer 2025  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Savinainen, Antti"Life Review at the Gate of Death  Quest 113:3, pg 20-23

Life Review at the Gate of Death

By Antti Savinainen 

Anntti SavinainenTheosophical sources describe a life review at the beginning of the death process. The first description is found in 1882 in The Mahatma Letters to A.P. Sinnett (see below). After that, H.P. Blavatsky and Annie Besant added more details about the life review. Later, the Finnish Rosicrucian Theosophist Pekka Ervast (1875–1934) provided a somewhat more comprehensive description of the life review.

After five decades of research, the science of the near-death experience (NDE) has provided independent data on the life review. People who have survived heart attacks or other life threatening situations sometimes talk about how some or all instances of their lives were available to them in a very brief time. Expressions like “I saw my life flash before my eyes” have become part of Western culture.

I will discuss and compare life reviews from the perspectives of both NDE research and Theosophy. These perspectives have intriguing commonalities as well as some differences. First, however, I will present the first published account of the life review, which contains many features that also appear in the NDE research and Theosophical descriptions.

The First Published Account of a Life Review

British naval officer Francis Beaufort (1774–1857) provides the first published account of life review. The experience, which was induced when he nearly drowned in 1791, was written down in a letter circa 1825 and published in the autobiography of the English naval officer Sir John Barrow in 1847. Following is an excerpt: 

Though the senses were thus deadened, not so the mind; its activity seemed to be invigorated, in a ratio which defies all description—for thought rose after thought with a rapidity of succession that is not only indescribable, but probably inconceivable, by any one who has not himself been in a similar situation . . . Thus travelling backwards, every past incident of my life seemed to glance across my recollection in retrograde succession; not, however, in mere outline, as here stated, but the picture filled up with every minute and collateral feature; in short, the whole period of my existence seemed to be placed before me in a kind of panoramic review, and each act of it seemed to be accompanied by a consciousness of right or wrong, or by some reflection on its cause or its consequences; indeed, many trifling events which had been long forgotten then crowded into my imagination, and with the character of recent familiarity . . . 

The length of time that was occupied by this deluge of ideas, or rather the shortness of time into which they were condensed, I cannot now state with precision, yet certainly not two minutes could not have elapsed from the moment of suffocation to that of my being hauled up. (in Barrow, 399‒401)

Beaufort’s account recapitulates the essential features of the life review:

  • The operation of the mind is highly enlightened.
  • The memories are detailed, and long-forgotten memories are available.
  • The memories are described as being panoramic, although they are viewed in retrograde order.
  • There is a moral evaluation of the actions and awareness of their causes and consequences.
  • The time during which the life review takes place is at most two minutes.

 

Scientific Research on the Life Review

Many near-death experiencers (NDERs) describe their life reviews in terms of watching a movie of their own life. Some NDERs see their whole life with detailed memories, whereas some glimpse only fragments. At any rate, they view themselves from a third-person perspective. Moreover, some people can feel how their actions and words made other people—and animals—feel.  Here is an excerpt from such a life review: 

It was the proverbial “life flashing before my eyes” or life review, as I have since heard it called. I would describe this as a long series of feelings based on numerous actions in my life. The difference was that not only did I experience the feelings again, but I had some sort of empathetic sense of the feeling of those around me who were affected by my actions. In other words, I also felt what others felt about my life. (Long and Perry, 108–09)

 The life review often reveals that little acts of kindness are important and that our everyday judgment of our actions or inactions may not be correct:

I saw how acting, or not acting, rippled in effect towards other people and their lives. It wasn’t until then that I understood how each little decision or choice affects the world. I learned that many of the things I thought were “wrong” were not necessarily wrong. I also learned of opportunities to love others that I passed up. (Long and Perry, 114)

In addition to actions and words, thoughts have an impact on the world: “I found out that not even your thoughts are lost . . . every thought was there” (Lorimer, 13).

Thoughts have their effect on other sentient beings as well as on nature:

 For me it was a total reliving of every thought I had ever thought, every word I had ever spoken, and every deed I had ever done; plus the effect of every each thought, word, and deed on everyone and anyone who had ever come within my environment or sphere of influence whether I knew them or not (including unknown passers-by on the street); plus the effect of each thought, word and deed on weather, plants, animals, soil, trees, water, and air. (Lorimer, 14)

About half of the informants in a 1995 study by researchers Ian Stevenson and Emily Williams Cook reported that they remembered their “whole life” or “everything.” The same study reported that 23 percent of informants had a simultaneous sequence, a panoramic memory, whereas 50 percent reported that their life review took place from birth or childhood to the present. Only 13 percent reported having a sequence of memories going from the present back to childhood.

Although the timing of the life review is difficult, Stevenson and Cook could place outer limits of duration in drowning cases to a few minutes and, in the case of falls, only a few seconds. In some reported cases, the duration of the life review was much longer (and occurred more slowly).

The judgment of past life actions is typically carried out by the NDERs themselves. However, the NDER is sometimes accompanied by a spiritual being who acts as a loving guide and helper and whose comments help put their life in a higher perspective. There is rarely negative judgment by the spiritual being, although the NDERs can see the effects of their hurtful actions on other living beings. One crucial lesson conveyed by many NDERs is that there are only two things one takes to the other side: knowledge and love.

The life review and the NDE in general have a life-changing effect on the experiencers. Dr. Raymond Moody, who published Life after Life, the first book on the NDE, in 1975, has called it “one-minute psychotherapy.” Here is an excerpt on the aftereffects: 

Over the years I’ve undergone a number of changes. I feel a strong connection with nature . . . I’ve acquired a great sense of justice. I’ve become more patient and peaceful. I can see things in perspective now. My aggression is a thing of the past. I feel a strong inner urge to never lie again. I’d rather keep silent than tell a little white lie. I do struggle with deadlines: things must get done within a certain time . . . I enjoy life immensely . . . I believe that people have stopped living from the heart. (van Lommel, 47–48)

 

Theosophical Descriptions of the Life Review 

The earliest Theosophical account of the life review is provided in a Mahatma letter from 1882:

At the last moment, the whole life is reflected in our memory and emerges from all the forgotten nooks and corners picture after picture, one event after the other. The dying brain dislodges memory with a strong supreme impulse, and memory restores faithfully every impression entrusted to it during the period of the brain’s activity . . . Yet from the last pulsation, from and between the last throbbing of his heart and the moment when the last spark of animal heat leaves the body—the brain thinks and the Ego lives over in those few brief seconds his whole life over. (Letter 93b, in Chin, 326)

This passage states that all memories are faithfully restored and lived by the Ego. This is an important distinction: the Ego does not refer to the personality but to the higher self behind the personality. The higher self is the true essence of a human being, responsible for each incarnation and enriched by the spiritual efforts of the personality on earth. Notably, the judgment in the life review is not conducted by the mere personality but by a much wiser higher self.

Another interesting point is the duration of the life review: within a few seconds, all memories of the whole life are reviewed. This is consistent with some reported life reviews, for instance in the context of falling from heights.

The second Theosophical account of the life review is provided by HPB:

At the solemn moment of death every man, even when death is sudden, sees the whole of his past life marshalled before him, in its minutest details. For one short instant the personal becomes one with the individual and all-knowing Ego. But this instant is enough to show him the whole chain of causes which have been at work during his life. He sees and now understands himself as he is, unadorned by flattery or self-deception. He reads his life, remaining as a spectator looking down into the arena he is quitting; he feels and knows the justice of all the suffering that has overtaken him. (Blavatsky, 162)

Blavatsky adds that the dying person understands their life in a much deeper way and “feels and knows” why they have suffered. This is possible because the personality becomes “one with . . . the all-knowing Ego.” There seems to be an implicit element of evaluating the past life, since the dying person objectively understands themselves. All this takes place “for one short instant,” which is consistent with the passage in the Mahatma letter (“those few brief seconds”). Moreover, the dying individual is just a spectator of the unfolding memories.

Annie Besant, Blavatsky’s student and later the president of the Theosophical Society, described the dying process in terms of separating the etheric body from the physical, using the term “panorama”: “Slowly the lord of the body draws himself away, enwrapped in the violet-grey etheric body, and absorbed in the contemplation of the panorama of his past life, which in the death-hour unrolls before him, complete in every detail” (Besant, 109).

 

Pekka Ervast’s Account of the Life Review

Pekka Ervast was the pioneer of the Finnish Theosophical movement (see “Pekka Ervast: A Finnish Theosophist,” Quest, spring 2025). His most detailed account of the life review was provided in lectures from 1928–29:

When consciousness moves to the etheric brain during death, all memories are alive in front of us. Therefore, a person reviews the past life in all its details, although this happens very fast. What has happened in life through the decades is seen within half an hour as films in memory, yet everything happens in detail, while the person is outside the whole play . . . He does not live in his reminiscences as he did while being physically alive. He just watches the great play and judges it objectively, calling each thing—depending on its own quality—as good or bad, crime or merit, and so on. He remains in a great light, so to speak . . . In fact, the viewer is the personalized higher self. In death the solemn experience of memories is not due to the ordinary physical personality; instead, it is due to the higher self, the “I,” which is behind the physical personality. (Marjanen et al., 37–38)

Ervast’s account is in many respects consistent with the Theosophical descriptions above: he too talks about reviewing all details of a past life. This review takes place objectively, without an emotional component, and it is permeated with an ethical evaluation of all deeds. This is possible because the viewer is not the personality, but rather “the personalized higher self,” which aligns with what the cited Theosophical authors have stated. But there is one difference from the other descriptions presented above: Ervast states that while the life review happens fast, it takes place “within half an hour,” not seconds or days. 

Discussion

Theosophical sources maintain that there is an objective evaluation of all deeds in the life review. The judgment aspect is consistent with the NDE descriptions, although Theosophical accounts differ from many (but not all) NDE accounts at in one respect: according to Theosophy, the emotional component is absent. Interestingly, the first written account of the NDE by Francis Beaufort is in line with the Theosophical view.

According to Theosophy, the second phase of the unfolding death process is entering kamaloka or the astral world. The soul will live through all the deeds, words, and thoughts in kamaloka and intensely feel how their actions affected other sentient beings.

Incidentally, the perspective of later Theosophy differs from that of the Mahatma Letters. According to the latter, the deceased individual is unconscious in kamaloka rather than experiencing their actions. (Deaths resulting from accidents and suicides are exceptions to this rule.)

This life review in kamaloka can be very painful, but its purpose is to become free from earthly life and its digressions; some religions call this state purgatory. The purgatory state resembles the NDE descriptions of the life review, since in both cases the effect of past actions is felt the same way as other people felt them. The emotional aspect of the life review can cause remorse and a strong will within NDERs to make amends. Still, it does not appear to be painful in the same sense that Theosophical descriptions of kamaloka imply. Rather, it seems that the emotional component of the NDE life review acts as a way of knowing how the world was affected by their actions.

To sum up, the many accounts of the NDE life review have interesting similarities and differences. On the one hand, they involve reviewing at least parts of past life deeds in order to understand how they affected others. NDERs also recall long-forgotten memories. On the other hand, the details vary: some see all the memories at once in a panoramic style, some relive their life from childhood to present, and some relive from present to childhood. Moreover, some life reviews take place within a few seconds, whereas some last a few minutes (and others can take a considerably longer time).

The life review can have life-changing effects on NDERs. It can also be a life-changing experience for those who delve into these accounts. The life review reveals the ethical core of life shared by all great religions and true philosophies: compassion and love toward all sentient beings.

Sources

Emphasis in quoted material is from the original.

Barrow, Sir John. An Auto-biographical Memoir of Sir John Barrow, Bart., Late of the Admiralty: Including Reflections, Observations, and Reminiscences at Home and abroad, from Early Life to Advanced Age. London: John Murray, 1847.

Besant, Annie. The Ancient Wisdom: An Outline of Theosophical Teachings. 2d ed. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 2015 [1897].

Blavatsky, H.P. The Key to Theosophy. Pasadena, Calif.: Theosophical University Press, 2002 [1889].

Chin, Vicente Hao, Jr., ed. The Mahatma Letters to A.P. Sinnett in Chronological Sequence. Quezon City, Philippines: Theosophical Publishing House, 1993.

Long, Jeffery, and Paul Perry. Evidence of the Afterlife: The Science of Near-Death Experiences. New York: HarperOne, 2010.

Lorimer, David. Resonant Mind: Life Review in the Near-Death Experience. Woking, Surrey, UK: White Crow, 2017.

Marjanen, Jouni, Antti Savinainen, and Jouko Sorvali. From Death to Rebirth: Teachings of the Finnish Sage Pekka Ervast. N.p.: Literary Society of the Finnish Rosy Cross, 2022. The e-book version is available online at https://www.teosofia.net/e-kirjat/Pekka_Ervast-From_Death_to_Rebirth.pdf.

Stevenson, Ian, and Emily Williams Cook. “Involuntary Memories During Severe Physical Illness or Injury.” The Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease 183 (no. 7), 452–58.

van Lommel, Pim. Consciousness beyond Life: The Science of Near-Death Experience. New York: HarperOne, 2010.


Spiritual Aging: An Interview with Carol Orsborn

Printed in the  Summer 2025  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Smoley, Richard"Spiritual Aging: An Interview with Carol Orsborn  Quest 113:3, pg 14-19

By Richard Smoley

For the past forty years, Carol Orsborn has been a leading voice of the post‒World War II generation. She is the best-selling author of over thirty-five books, most recently Spiritual Aging: Weekly Reflections for Embracing Life (Inner Traditions). Other recent books of hers are The Making of an Old Soul: Aging as the Fulfillment of Life’s Promise; Older, Wiser, Fiercer: The Wisdom Collection; and The Spirituality of Age: A Seeker’s Guide to Growing Older (with Robert L. Weber, PhD). She has recently launched the Spiritual Aging Study and Support Group at Substack. She founded the Sage-ing Book Club in conjunction with the organization Sage-ing International.

I interviewed her via Zoom in January 2025. The full interview is available on the TSA YouTube channel. Following is an edited version of the transcript.

 

Richard Smoley: Much of your work in recent years has had to do with the relevance of spirituality to aging. Presently the baby-boom generation is getting old, if it’s not already. What problems do you see that may be unique to this generation?

Carol OrsbornCarol Orsborn: We were the generation of hope following World War II, and there were great expectations put upon us. We felt that whatever problems had not been solved, we were going to solve, and in our lifetime. We were going to be the harbingers of peace and the marriage of technology and spirit. We were known as a generation of seekers, and we were incredibly optimistic until, say, the last four to eight years.

Many of us have been holding on to the idea that the that the world was going to follow our marching orders and bring our ideals to fruition in our lifetime. It’s become very clear to many of us that that is not going to happen on our beat. Many of us are having to rethink our relationship to spirituality and try and find a spirituality that will go the distance, even in times like these.

Smoley: You mentioned that this is a generation of seekers. One major feature of this generation was a countercultural spiritual revival, and that has obviously born some fruit. I’m wondering if you could comment about its long-term effects.

Orsborn: I see a massive awakening going on right now. When an individual has a crisis or is in chaos, or falls into what I call the void, they have the potential to reconfigure themselves around the dark night experience.

That happens to individuals when they’ve gone through a divorce or a serious illness or a war. I feel that many baby boomers who were awake and alive and aware during the consciousness movement of the sixties, even into the 2000s, have spiritual practices that are have prepared us for this sudden mass awakening. And I feel that it’s happening.

Smoley: That’s very reassuring to hear. For many people, the biggest encounters with death often occur in middle age. They have to do with deaths of parents—seeing mom and dad go—which is of course a milestone for everyone. How does this confrontation with death shape your concept of yourself and affect the aging process?

Orsborn: In my middle age, at the age of forty-nine, I had breast cancer, so I was facing my own death. I had the sense that death was something that I could beat or overcome. And I did. I’m seventy-six now, so I’ve had a lot of years of life after thinking that I could die any day.

But when you’re old yourself, your friends are starting to pass away—and your loved ones and your favorite pets. I had three pets pass away during Covid. The losses that we go through seem endless. You realize that this is not rehearsal; this is real.

Even if I thought that I could prolong life, I now realize that death is going to happen to me. There’s no more kidding about it, and it makes everything that much more accentuated and serious. I think that’s the great accelerator of our spiritual growth and development.

Smoley: Our confrontation with death has a great deal to do with our beliefs about what happens after. Today many people seem confused about the question. They may say there’s a heaven and a hell, or reincarnation. Most Americans—80 percent by one count—say they believe in an afterlife. But there seems to be a profound uncertainty about what happens after death, and religion as it is now doesn’t seem to give much assurance that anyone’s really willing to believe. Maybe you could talk a little bit about our attitudes toward the afterlife, particularly as we get closer and closer to it.

Orsborn: My doctorate is in history and critical theory of religion from Vanderbilt, and one of the main things we were studying was the lessening influence of religion on many of us. We also examined the difference between a childlike relationship to a religion that tells you what to believe versus the spiritual developmental stages you go through that include questioning your original faith and reconstituting something that works for you.

There’s period of disillusion, of your belief system breaking apart, which is very scary. You’re out there, floating, not knowing, until it starts to come back together again, including a new relationship to death and dying.

From the hospice workers I’ve worked with, and also from my reading, such as Leo Tolstoy’s Death of Ivan Ilyich (a favorite book of mine), they all say the same thing: no matter how much kicking and screaming and fear and regret there is—all that stuff around the fear of aging—there is a moment when you get it, and it’s often with your last breath—on the deathbed.

That’s what happened with my parents, especially my mother, who was a real fighter. She really believed she could control everything that happened to her. She was offended by the fact that death would actually come this close and take her. I was there at the moment of her death, and the room turned into sparkles. That was how I knew that she died. It’s hard to describe, but I felt like the world got fizzy. The line between life and death disappeared, and there was just this sparkling room.

A hospice worker was also present. Her phone went off accidentally at that moment, and her ring was “Hava Nagila”—the Jewish song of celebration—although this woman was Hispanic. Later I asked her why she chose that as her ringtone. She said, “Oh, I just thought it was a pretty song.” Because my mother and I are Jewish, it was like a message from the beyond. So I am a believer in that way, and I’ve had enough miraculous experiences that have made me less afraid of death.

I think it’s an accumulation of life experience, plus spiritual practice, that pushes us over the edge to a moment of enlightenment or awakening. In religious terms, you might call it grace.

From my religious studies, I’ve come to understand that we just don’t pop into this new place where we’re not afraid of death anymore out of nowhere; it’s a lifelong practice. Then there is going through periods like Covid, where so many people were dying and death is in the air. These are quickening agents. They push many people over the edge into a surprising, new, and calmer relationship with the subject.

Smoley: It’s been a long time since I’ve read The Death of Ivan Ilyich, but as I remember, the punchline is that as Ivan Ilyich is dying, he realizes that everything that he’d been preoccupied with in his life had little or no significance whatsoever. I’m wondering how you would fit that realization into the concept of aging spiritually.

Orsborn: I would experience that differently. It’s not that nothing matters or mattered; it’s that you see it is all of a piece, that it was all love. I think we come from love, and we go to love. That was the big realization I had during Covid: I had this visceral sense that I had been being pushed through life by fear, from the moment of birth, that moment of separation and the original wound, with the doctor’s slap on your bottom, and your crying as the harsh air comes into your lungs. There was a sense of being pushed forward by fear, feeling that it was about trying to win approval in order to survive and to create masks in order to dull the pain of being too exposed.

During Covid, the miracle that happened for me is that I felt that same love that I had felt before I was born, reaching out from the future and grabbing me forward. It was as if my life pivoted from being chased by fear to being pulled by love. Since then, that feeling has never left me.

It’s not that I’m not afraid sometimes, but as Einstein said, the most important question you have to ask yourself is: is this a friendly universe or not? I answer that yes, this is a friendly universe. I believe that even if bad things happen to me and other people, there is a greater reality beyond everyday life. That’s perhaps what Tolstoy was talking about. We get intimate intimations of it from time to time, and if we’re doing aging as a spiritual experience, the older we get, the more we have these moments of breakthrough.

Smoley: Have you ever worked with A Course in Miracles?

Orsborn: Yes. A friend of mine gave me a whole volume, and I read it from cover to cover and loved it. However, when I had breast cancer, a lot of people were using A Course in Miracles and other New Age philosophies to say, we create our reality; we create our illness. I couldn’t buy that. It was too harsh for me. My attitude back then was, “If this is a gift from God, I’d like to give it back. Does God take returns?”

Many influences have brought me to two foundational principles: First, you have to accept reality for what it can’t help being. Second is, you can feel beloved no matter what, because you are beloved, no matter what.

Anything beyond that is subject to debate and exploration and curiosity, but to me, those are the foundational principles upon which I test my own and other people’s spirituality, at least in terms of my life.

Smoley: Thank you; that’s very beautiful. As you say, many New Age people have been implying, if not stating, that disease is the sufferer’s fault. But guilt about illness is much more pervasive than that. If you have lung cancer, is it your fault because you were smoking? Many people act that way. America is a society that is predicated on inflicting guilt on everyone else.

Orsborn: As much as possible, especially when it’s commercially advantageous.

Smoley: Even apart from the New Age, people are often led to think one way or another that if you’re sick or aging or frail, it’s somehow your fault.

Orsborn: This culture worships power and the illusion of power, as well as the idea that we should be able to control our destinies. Even now, the best-selling books on aging are basically saying that if you fear aging, if you don’t want to do aging, don’t do it. Just stay in midlife forever. And if, God forbid, you should get an illness or start to look infirm, you’d better go hide behind a gated community; you’d better take yourself out fast.

Aging is considered an illness in popular culture. But this misses the truth that aging is a life stage with meaning and purpose of its own; I believe it has an evolutionary purpose, otherwise we wouldn’t grow old.

This society has denied even looking at this issue. Why? Because people who really understand serious aging are not going to be big consumers of products or manipulatable by power structures. We start to have a direct contact with our inner wisdom and powers greater than ourselves, which is dangerous to society.

Smoley: Let’s focus a little more on your work specifically. Let’s say I’m coming to you cold and saying, “I’m getting old. I’m kind of worried about it. It must have something to do with spirituality, although I don’t know what that is.” How would you start to work with that person?

Orsborn: Well, you know, the gift is aging itself. That’s the teacher, not me. By the time they come to me, they are partially deconstructed and saying, “Help! I don’t want to do this alone. It is scary.” But it’s like any void. Say you clasp your hands; this is the status quo. Then you have to move your hands into another position. There’s a moment of letting go, of emptiness.

These people are asking, “Is there something better? Is there another way? Does it have to be this painful?” The answer, I’m afraid, is, yes, it does have to be that painful: confronting the reality of death, illness, and loss, and feeling anger and regret. Those are painful experiences.

But this is why I say aging is a natural, spiritual experience, and both teacher and practice: How many people have taken course after course trying to erode their ego? They understand that their egos have a grip on them and that they’re attached to images of the past, and they would like to have a more spiritual, more loving persona. They want to be less invested in their things and who they used to be. With aging, you don’t need a yoga mat. Just look in the mirror: that will do wonders for eroding your ego.

The flip side of eroding your ego is the birth of humility, and humility is the birthplace of all true spirituality—the overcoming of the arrogant belief that this is our show, that we’re calling the shots, that God ought to do what we tell God to do. True humility says, “I can’t stop all the bad things from happening, but I can’t stop the good things from happening either, so I need to look at life differently. I need to look at it with curiosity rather than dread.”

That’s a huge turning point. The minute that you can add that little element, you can have dread and then have curiosity about that dread. The kind of people that that come to me are already having some kind of awakening, but they’re in the discomfort part of it.

Fortunately or unfortunately, right now I’m a main connector of people, a way for them to find each other. There’s a grassroots movement that’s building up around the organizations I’m involved with, like Sage-ing International and Spirit of Sophia, and my book Spiritual Aging, because it contains weekly reflections for embracing life. I’ve been hearing about convents, old people’s homes, community centers and friendship groups who are working these readings one week at a time.

We were ashamed of our aging. It was something we were doing in secret. It’s a revolutionary and radical act to step out of the guilt, the shame, and the self-isolation coming out of what other people might be thinking of us and moving into this new place of finding out that we’re not in this alone. We’re learning from one another who we are and how we’re handling aging, and other people can point out the water we’re swimming in that we’re not even seeing. It’s an exciting time for those of us who are finding each other, and scary as heck until you do.

Smoley: As you suggested, many of the people who are drawn to this kind of work were, in a sense, already drawn to it. They may not be completely open, but they’re at least a little open. But what about the large portion of the aging population who seem to have done the exact opposite? They’ve become frozen, almost as a survival technique.

Orsborn: Here’s the truth about aging: I believe you become more of who you are, who you really are, as you age, and there are only two choices. One is being contracting, constructing more armor, shrinking your world, getting more invested in old paradigms, trying to exert more power. That is all contraction.

The other choice is expansion: opening your heart, being curious, being honest. All the spiritual masters that I’ve read say that that is our choice in life. It may not feel as if you have a choice, but you do. Are you going to be the kind of person who gets smaller and lets your challenges and issues turn you hard and wrinkly and self-protective, like a wrinkled old apple? Or are you going to take the risk? It’s a giant risk, it’s a huge leap of faith, be closer to death, and open your heart and say, “I believe this is a friendly universe. I believe I can be beloved, however my life looks to myself and to other people. I’m going to take that leap of faith.” That is the choice we have to make.

Smoley: Thank you. That’s very apt. Last night I was watching a TV show called Hacks.

Orsborn: I love that show.

Smoley: The young woman in it is going through all sorts of crises in her life, and she’s talking to her mother across the country on the phone. The mother’s neurotically worried and obsessed about the slightest things. The young woman can’t discuss anything in her life with her mother in any real way.

This seems to be a very common situation. I think it was very true of our generation: you didn’t tell your parents anything, because they would worry about it, which would just make everything worse. How do you see that phenomenon? How do you see the best way to deal with it?

Orsborn: I’m a member of Al-Anon. Al-Anon is the Twelve-Step program that has to do with loving other people too much, or loving them in the wrong way, in a controlling way.

It’s so counterintuitive, because you think you’re being a good mother when you’re trying to save your kids, or when you hold them so close that it’s too painful to hear them talk about their problems.

One of the things I’ve learned from the Twelve-Step program is detaching with love. How can you be a loving witness to somebody going through hard times without feeling it’s your job to heal them, cure them, save them?

That’s a core principle of individuation; it is, the psychologists teach us, is the healthy way for families to individuate. For people in different generations to grow in tandem, it requires a certain amount of letting go, but not without love.

I’d say our relationships with our adult children is probably the number one stumbling block, even for people who’ve done spiritual practices all their lives. They say, “I’m so enlightened. I’ve been through all this, and I could save you from so much. Why don’t you just do what I tell you to do?”

We forget that we can’t protect our children from life. That’s why my first principle, was, if you recall, you can’t stop reality from being what it can’t help being. That acceptance is a part of the Serenity Prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Smoley: Another issue today that weighs on people of all ages is the polarized political scene. Whatever side you’re on in this tug-of-war, chances are you’re upset about it.

It’s always those people. Those people are no good. Everything would be great except for those people. Whether those people are Republicans, Democrats, or whatever is almost a mere matter of taste. This polarization troubles many people. Maybe they’re even projecting or displacing their own fear of death onto the political situation. How do you suggest that people deal with their upsets about politics?

Orsborn: I am one of those people that worry about complacency masquerading as spirituality. I think you need to know where you stand. You need to know what your values are, and you need to know when you’re up against values that you find abhorrent. I think that’s one of the gifts of aging: to know who you are and what you believe to be true and important.

Now that said, I believe very much in people listening to their own heart in terms of their callings. Are you called to be a protester? Are you called to write books? Are you called to go to jail for your principles?

We are all deeply called, but spiritual people can get tripped up by a confusion between what their gut is telling them and what their heart is telling them, which is very easy to do.

To younger people, I’m going to say, please save our society. Please act in the world on what you believe. We did. We tried. Please take your turn and try it.

But many older people have seen their dreams crumble in recent years and realize they might not see their dreams come true in this lifetime. They’ll say to me, “I feel really guilty that I am not out there doing everything I can. I know I should be protesting, doing acts of civil disobedience.”

 “OK, you feel guilty and bad,” I say. “But where are you being called right now? Look into your heart and tell me what, at this exact moment of time, you really wish you were doing.”

Often they’ll say something like, “Oh, God! I just wish I could just go out in my garden and garden. I just wish I could sit down with a good book, you know. I wish I could go out for coffee with a good friend.”

“That is your heart calling you,” I say. “Your heart is not always calling you to do the hardest, scariest thing. Sometimes it’s as simple as cleaning your drawers out. Stop to listen to your heart, and stop second-guessing it and arguing with it. You may need time out working in your garden, or sewing, or whatever it is. It may be your way of grieving, your way of opening yourself up to new levels of compassion and maybe to a breakthrough of creativity.

If you’re meant to stay involved in the world, or take a political stand or engage in civil disobedience, you’ll know. Until you know, take the time to not know, to be in curiosity and exploration and self-nurturing. Many of us need a lot of self-nurturing right now.

As I mentioned, my book Spiritual Aging contains daily readings for the year. Some of the passages speak to this very issue, such as, “When was the last time you looked to see if the moon was still out in the early morning?” “Have you checked to see if there’s a bird flying by your window?” “Does your favorite tree have snow melting off its branches?” “What pictures are the clouds drawing in the sky?”

When you take the time to appreciate all that you’ve been given, you are awestruck with life. You’ve had disappointments; of course you have. There are things you wish had worked out differently. You’ve missed opportunities. You’ve made mistakes. But today, all you have to do is look out the window to be reminded that when you’ve been stripped bare, the veil between your heart and the mystery is thin indeed. Take advantage of this precious moment to experience the abundance of miracles that effortlessly surround you, just patiently waiting for you to notice.

Many of the people have said they’re afraid of death and dying or aging. If they’re doing their spiritual homework, if they are connected to their hearts and allowing themselves to be supported later in life, they may find joy beyond anything we’ve imagined.

Smoley: Beautiful. We’ve covered quite a bit, and I’m wondering if you have anything you want to add.

Orsborn: The word that comes to my mind is simplicity. Many people experience economic impacts when they’re older.

They’re downsizing or moving into assisted living facilities and have had to pare all their lifelong belongings down to fit into one room.

At first, the thought of having to let go of our big lives, with its cars and travel, is horrifying. But in my experience, the hard part of growing older is going from midlife into old age, not becoming old as such. Until you arrive to old, you can’t imagine how glorious old can be. Until then, you’re regretting the losses, you’re hanging on, and you’re feeling the pain. You’re going to have to trust me that, even with the pain of old age, there is still an ecstasy and a passion about it that is possible—not guaranteed, but possible, and that’s enough to keep us going.

 


Daimons and Spirit Guides

Printed in the  Spring 2025  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Keene, Douglas"Daimons and Spirit Guides  Quest 113:2, pg 10-11

By Douglas Keene, National President 

Doug KeeneThis issue of Quest magazine is devoted to the theme of daimons and spirit guides. What images are conjured up when we contemplate this topic! Descriptions and renderings of these entities go back to our earliest history, and likely long before. Archangels, guiding angels, guardian angels, ascended ancestors, power animals, and many other energies are purported to give spiritual guidance. How can we know if such entities exist?

Certainly direct experience and communication are the most authentic evidence, but even this may be suspect: perhaps there are elements of dreaming, illusion, delusion, hallucinations, illness, or other possible explanations. For those that have not had direct interaction with spirits, testimonials from reliable sources may be convincing, but it’s far from inconvertible. Many claim interaction with the spirits through psychic or mystical experience (which are two quite different phenomena), near-death episodes, channeling, and other methodologies.

William Butler Yeats, the Irish poet and dramatist, wrote, “The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” Is this the case with spirit guides? Can we seek them out? Will they be credible resources for helping with life choices?

C.W. Leadbeater, a prominent Theosophist from the last century, wrote, “Among the beautiful conceptions which Theosophy has restored to us stands pre-eminent that of the great helpful agencies of nature.” In fact, he wrote an entire book on the subject entitled Invisible Helpers, arguing that we all can become helpers or guides on a higher plane during our sleep phase or between incarnations.

Are these higher beings—if indeed that’s what they are—always beneficent? H.P. Blavatsky, writing of angel guides in the Theosophical Glossary, defines “Vidyâ-dhara and Vidya-dhari [as] male and female deities. Lit., ‘possessors of knowledge’ . . . They are also called Nabhas-chara, ‘moving in the air,’ flying, and Priyam-vada, ‘sweet-spoken.’ They are the Sylphs of the Rosicrucians; inferior deities inhabiting the astral sphere between the earth and ether; believed in popular folk-lore to be beneficent, but in reality they are cunning and mischievous, and intelligent Elementals, or ‘Powers of the air.’”

In his well-known poem “The Guest House,” Rumi, the thirteenth-century poet and Islamic scholar, wrote, “Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.”

Was he referring to spirit guides, prominent thoughts, impactful moods, or earthly visitors? All can be helpful in our spiritual search if interpreted properly. All experiences can be educational. All interactions are potentially enlightening. Where can we find that Voice of the Silence that speaks the truth to us?

In Light on the Path, Mabel Collins tells us that we should “obey the Warrior” and “let him fight in thee.” This, however, seems metaphorical, describing an inner intuition as a guide, a deeper part of our own being, rather than an external presence to whom we should submit.

Geoffrey Hodson was a prolific twentieth-century Theosophical author who wrote extensively about devas and angels. He describes nature spirits in several works, and in 1935 he published a book titled The Coming of the Angels. He writes about “the revival of the ancient mysteries” and the rise of spiritualism, which he attributes in part to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Coming of the Fairies. He notes that Doyle promulgates “the idea of the brotherhood of angels and of man and his growing acceptance at this time, may, perhaps, be regarded as another manifestation of the same influence.”

Hodson quotes “a teaching angel” quite extensively, beginning in the first chapter: “In the olden days when an ancient race was born and reached its prime, angels walked with men. When national decay set in, spiritual darkness fell upon the race, men knew us not, and we per force withdrew . . . Once more a new age dawns and the new race is being born. The time of reunion has come; again the angel and the human branches of the family of God shall know themselves as one.”

Hodson goes into a great deal of descriptive detail and writes that he has been instructed on numerous occasions by spiritual manifestations. In chapter 3 he addresses “The Color Language of the Angels.” He notes that “the ‘speech’ of the angels produces color and form rather than sound. A system of symbology is included in their mode of communication, symbols and flashes of color appearing in a mental atmosphere as natural expressions of angelic thought.”

Hodson notes that these mental impressions can be made wordlessly, through colors and other symbols. Yet he is able to quote verbatim long passages amounting to dozens of pages of what appears to be angelic expression. He describes a natural link between human beings and angelic entities, who can work together for the good of humankind at both the physical and supersensory levels. Hodson’s clairvoyance and clairaudience, of course, were very useful in this communication and largely directed his energies as he systematically explored the unseen (to most of us) angelic kingdoms.

Do daimons and spirit guides need to coexist? Does each require the other, such as in good and evil? Does each beget the necessity of the opposite? There is the classic cartoon of having an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other, pulling us in opposite directions, obliging us to choose what we want for ourselves in a particular circumstance. Perhaps our desires are in conflict with our conscience. Perhaps we are weighing the benefits and the liabilities (often unknown). What level of risk are we willing to accept in order to achieve what we want in the moment? How do we seek advice and direction? What are we longing to know?

There are many dangers along the way. We must sort the true from the false, whether in our own minds or in the messages we receive. There are many impostors waiting for us out there, and it’s easy to be deceived. In her book Living in Wisdom, Joy Mills notes: 

There are many today seeking shortcuts on this path [the search for the divine], or who get ensnared in the forests of psychic phenomena. And there are those who fail. But failure is not a finality; it is possible for us to pick ourselves up, disentangle ourselves from the briars of psychic glamour that have ensnared us, and continue on the quest.

How, then, are we to navigate this ethereal world? Where are the handholds and solid footing to be found? It would be helpful to return to the basic Theosophical concepts (expressed in At the Feet of the Master) of discernment and nonattachment. If we are able to act truly, we will know the path to follow. If we are selfless in our endeavors, this will be our talisman. If we search for opportunities for service, they will come to us. If we can set aside what is merely of benefit to our own being, then we will reap the greatest reward. If we find the inner self, we cannot be led astray.


Demian, Daimon, and Theosophy: Navigating Hermann Hesse’s Vision of Spiritual Awakening

Printed in the  Spring 2025  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Hoepfl-Wellenhofer, Susanne"Demian, Daimon, and Theosophy:
Navigating Hermann Hesse’s Vision of Spiritual Awakening
  Quest 113:2, pg 8-9

By Susanne Hoepfl-Wellenhofer 

Susanne Hoepfl WellenhoferGrowing up in a Catholic country where religious education in school was mandatory, I was taught that demons are the fallen angels who followed Satan and rebelled against God. Later in life I learned that the term demon is derived from the Greek word daimon, which means supernatural being or spirit.

This concept of the daimon—a spiritual being that influences a person’s character and is an intermediary between the Divine and man—is central to Hermann Hesse’s 1919 novella Demian. Through the character of Demian, Hesse explores the complexities of human nature and the transformative power of embracing one’s inner voice and true self.  The title came to Hesse in a dream and is the direct outgrowth of his psychoanalysis of 1916‒17. It marked a new direction in both the tone and message of his works.

At the heart of Demian’s exploration is the journey of the protagonist, Emil Sinclair. Even at a young age, Emil is aware of an inharmonious world and knows that he has a dual nature and a darker side. The character Demian, portrayed as an enigmatic and almost otherworldly figure, plays an important role in the novella, helping Sinclair navigate his inner conflicts and understand the deeper truths of life. Demian represents a higher, more enlightened aspect of Sinclair’s psyche. He encourages Sinclair to question societal norms, pointing out the world we are taught to accept—the world of social norms, moral rules, and conventional beliefs—is only one aspect of a larger reality. He criticizes the way authority figures, like priests and teachers, often promote a one-sided view of life, focusing on what is considered “good” or “acceptable” and repressing the “bad” or “unacceptable.” 

You have known that your “permitted” world was only half of the world and you have tried to subjugate the second half after the manner of priests and teachers. It will not be to your benefit. It benefits no one once he has begun to think. (Hesse, 69)

Equally important to Emil Sinclair is his deep desire to discover and live in accordance with his true nature—his authentic self—but he notes his deep frustration and inner conflict with this process: “All I wanted was to try and realize whatever was in me. Why was that so difficult?” (Hesse, 106).

On a broader level, this quote speaks to a universal human experience—the challenge of becoming who we truly are. We all struggle with the gap between our inner desires and the life we feel compelled to lead due to external pressures. Sinclair’s question—why it is so difficult—captures the essence of this struggle, highlighting the courage required to pursue true self-realization.

Over time, Emil Sinclair realizes that those who are on the path of awakening—those who have begun to realize their true inner selves—are often seen as strange, mad, or even threatening by society. 

We who bore the “sign” might rightly be considered odd by the world, even mad and dangerous. We were “awake” or “wakening” and our striving was directed at an ever-increasing wakefulness, whereas the striving and quest for happiness of the rest was aimed at identifying their thoughts, ideals, duties, their lives and fortunes more and more closely with that of the herd. (Hesse, 160)

The “sign” represents an inner mark of difference, a spiritual or psychological awakening that sets one apart from the conventional world.

The concept of the daimon is central to Demian, serving as a metaphor for the inner guiding force that leads Emil Sinclair on his path to self-discovery and individuation. (Indeed the name Demian evokes daimon.) As time goes by, Sinclair becomes more self-confident. Eventually Demian tells him that if he needs help in the future, it won’t come from an external source. Instead, Sinclair will have to look inward, as the strength and guidance he seeks are already within him. This suggests that Demian represents not just a friend or mentor but a part of Sinclair’s own consciousness, particularly his emerging self-confidence and understanding of his own power. At one point, Demian says: “I shan’t come riding crudely on horseback or by railway train next time [you need help]. You’ll have to listen to your inner voice and then you will hear me speak within you. Do you understand?” (Hesse, 183).

Demian aligns with Theosophical teachings, which view the daimon or higher self as a guiding force that helps individuals on their spiritual journey of self-discovery and enlightenment. Theosophists believe in the divinity inherent in all beings and in the potential for each individual to achieve higher states of consciousness through an inward journey of self-discovery. These ideas of the divine spark within and the transformative power of embracing one’s true nature are central to the narrative of Demian as well.

Quotations are from Hermann Hesse, Demian, translated by W.J. Strachan: https://www.holybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/Demian-By-Hermann-Hesse.pdf.

Susanne Hoepfl-Wellenhofer is a member of the board of directors of the TSA. Her translation of Franz Hartmann’s Outline of the Secret Doctrine was reviewed in Quest, winter 2025.


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