Quest Magazine

Personal Reminiscences on the Origins of the Kern Foundation

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Kern, John. "Personal Reminiscences on the Origins of the Kern Foundation." Quest 95.5 (SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007):

Although we each may have entered the Theosophical Society through different doors and at different times, we are all indebted to the inspiration, creativity, and motivation of our founders and the dedicated supporters of Theosophy over the past century. Each of us, in ways as different as our many paths, would like to give back to the Society which has given us so much. Herb Kern had the opportunity to establish the Kern Foundation in order to provide financial assistance for the spread of Theosophy into the future. During her administration as president of the American Section, Joy Mills and Kern Foundation Programs Committee expanded the effect of Herb Kern's contribution. In the following articles, John Kern and Joy Mills reflect on those early days.

By John Kern

How did the Kern Foundation, dedicated to aid in the spiritual enlightenment of humanity through access to Theosophy, come about? How did Theosophy, itself, enter into Herb Kern's life? And what other effects did it have on him?

The answer is that this endowment for the furtherance of the Theosophical Movement was established by Herbert Arthur Kern in the late 1950s, as he became aware of the jeopardy of the future of the Theosophical Society in the post World War II era. At that time, unless significant additional funds became available for their programs and other activities, the Theosophical Society in America would not survive. But, to answer the rest of the questions, there is a much richer and interesting story.

Herbert Kern was born in 1890 on a farm in Minnesota, the last of four children of Josephine and Charles Kern. He was innately interested in how things worked and why. One day in 1907, after pedaling to high school in nearby Stillwater, he answered an ad in the local paper by a resident doctor. The doctor had just purchased an automobile, the first one in the city, and he wanted to hire a part-time chauffeur. My dad was the only person to answer that ad, as no one else (including my father) had personally seen an automobile. He got the job, we presume, simply on his bravado and demeanor. He told me he arrived an hour early for the interview, read the manual from cover to cover, and ended up driving the good doctor out to White Bear Lake to see a patient that very afternoon! As a result of this experience, he became a lifelong auto enthusiast, passing along this interest to both his sons. We saw every antique car he could find on our family travels around the United States during the 1930s and '40s, and had explained to us the inner workings of all of them. Upon graduating high school, my father went to Minneapolis to register as a freshman at the University of Minnesota. In the registration office, he noticed an announcement on the bulletin board about a brand new department—Chemical Engineering. As he recounted to me many years later, he signed up because he wanted to be involved in the very latest and newest field of study. He also met some young Masons, whose religious ideas were a far cry from those of the conservative German Lutheran Church across from the farm where he lived. He became a Mason and joined Acacia, their social fraternity at the University. (Acacia's founders established the fraternity in 1904 on a unique basis. Membership was restricted to those who had already taken the Masonic obligations, and the organization was to be built on the ideals and principles inculcated by the vows taken by Master Masons. Members were to be motivated by a desire for high scholarship and of such character that the fraternity would be free of the social vices and unbecoming activities that for years had been a blot on fraternity life.)

My father received his Chemical Engineering degree in 1913. But, he also had met a wonderful young lady, Edith Speckman, (my mother to be) and did not want to lose her while she completed her final year of studies, so he studied an additional year and received a second degree, this one in Chemistry. My parents were married after graduation. My father's first job was as the first research chemist for the Pure Oil Company, where he worked on oil additives and the use of detergents in lubricating oils as cleansing agents. In 1917, with America's entry into the World War, he joined the U.S. Army Quartermaster Corps office in Chicago where he was placed in charge of the specification and procurement of fuels and lubricants for the War Department. It was there he met Frederick Salathe, Jr., a professor of chemistry at Indiana University, from whom he learned about using sodium aluminates as a flocculating agent (a means of separating out and precipitating suspended particles in fluids).

He saw the potential for developing the use of this process to clarify both industrial and domestic water supplies. After the war ended, and with financial backing from the family of this professor, he founded the Chicago Chemical Company to produce and market this technology.

During the early 1920s, my father met members of the Holyoke Branch of the TSA. Apparently while on a business trip to visit paper mills in the area to sell them his water treating chemicals. Members Jennie Ferris and Helen Tait turned over to him several books on Theosophy, and that got him started. Today, those books with their names inscribed, are in my personal library. My father joined the Holyoke Branch, even thigh he lived in a suburb of Chicago, and his name is listed in archival branch membership records from 1931 and 1941. He was a voracious reader and I actually recall driving in a Model A Ford Coupe out to Olcott on a Sunday in 1931, as he often borrowed books from the new American Section administrative headquarters library in Wheaton.

Theosophy's message about being responsible for one's actions and their effects upon others resonated with my father's own informal style. He established profit sharing, medical expense coverage, retirement pensions, an employee stock purchase plan, and other programs geared towards developing partnerships with all involved in his company. He saw each person as having a vital role to play in the success of the total enterprise: from the employees, all of whom he knew on a first name basis during the early years and whom he felt should be compensated on a fair and equitable basis; to the stockholders who provided the capital to start and run the business; as well as the company's customers and suppliers.

One personal case I recall vividly, as I knew the individual well, was one of my father's department heads, Mr. Moriarty, who contracted adult poliomyelitis. This employee's prognosis was eventual total paralysis. My father arranged for Mr. Moriarty to have almost daily treatments by our family osteopath. Dr. Evans massaged and manipulated Mr. Moriarty's limbs to maintain their muscle tone, and after ten years (at full salary) Mr. Moriarty returned to his office at the company, same job, albeit in a wheel chair!

In the late 1930s, as the country began to gear up for the coming world conflict, the local chemical suppliers my dad had helped out by always paying his bills promptly during the Depression years, came to his rescue as these chemicals became in short supply. They put my father's firm at the head of their shipment lists. And, as the company developed, my father continued to focus on solving pollution problems and other environmentally sensitive issues.

I had an extensive childhood acquaintanceship with the Theosophical books from my father's library, which the two of us discussed regularly. When I came back from World War II in the spring of 1946, I began attending the Summer Sessions in Wheaton and that year joined the Society. I was so affected by the international Theosophical leaders attending these post war annual Summer Sessions that I convinced my father to come out to Olcott and attend not just the occasional Sunday lecture, but the entire series of talks. As a result, he became an active member of the Theosophical Society as well. Soon, he was invited to attend the TSA Board meetings as Financial Advisor. Sitting in on those meetings, my father saw that the new dynamism of the post-war TSA leadership needed greatly-enhanced financial support in order to achieve their new goals and objectives.

He also visited Krotona and was introduced to the idea of it becoming an educational center for Theosophists. He was elected to the Krotona Board. Soon, he embarked on the building of a guest house to handle anticipated visiting theosophical researchers, faculty for a School of Theosophy, as well as attendees. (Several years after my father's death, when his foundation had become active, I wrote N. Sri Ram, the international president and head of Krotona, and received his approval to support this School of Theosophy at Krotona.)

My father had decided to continue this support after his death, so he established a foundation to offer aid in the dissemination of the theosophical philosophy, thus setting an example for others. The foundation was funded by the Founder's stock he had received for establishing and leading his firm, by then renamed Nalco Chemical Company. The resulting document named his two sons, my younger brother Herb Jr. and me, to be life personal trustees, to operate under a corporate trustee position administered by the Northern Trust Company. My dad shared these intentions with me and my brother, who though not a Theosophist, was completely supportive of our father's wishes. I suggested my father should provide for flexibility in the selection of the organizations and the amounts to be distributed, as the effectiveness of organizations can vary with the passage of time. I was then named to advise the corporate trustee "as to distributions of income and principal . . ., the organizations to receive distributions, and the amount or proportions each such organization is to receive by way of distribution."

My dad had hoped others would make major contributions as well, but none were immediately forthcoming. So, with Alonzo Decker, co-founder of Black and Decker, John Sellon (a senior re-insurance executive), and several leaders of the Society, the Theosophical Investment Trust was established, with my dad's lawyer writing the document. It is, in effect, an in-house endowment for the Society into which all individual major gifts and bequests are placed for professional investment management.

My father had a vision for enabling Theosophy to become a vital part of the lives of many more than those who might accidentally come across books on Theosophy, as he had. The first major program the Kern Foundation supported at the TSA was the Quest Books publishing venture, his dream of aiding in the prospects for many more persons coming in contact with up-dated contemporary Theosophical literature. Joy Mills, who had just become president of the TSA when the Foundation was activated in 1966, was a tremendous support as we created the first programs to receive grants. The Kern Foundation continues to fund the Society's publishing activities, along with major support for the professional staff at the National Center and their internationally-used web page, www.theosophical.org, in addition to many other educational programs.

From a "white paper" I wrote to our Corporate Trustee in 1987, the bank accepted the concept of a continuing Kern Family Advisor in future generations, if a family member is interested in Theosophy and has the time to commit to the Foundation. Currently, my daughter Louise, along with the Corporate Trustee, are sharing with me in the development, investigation, and deliberation of grant proposals. Our son John Jr. (Jay) serves as a Trustee of the Theosophical Investment Trust and on the Legal Committee of the TSA.

For a world so greatly in need of understanding the essential unity of all life and our individual responsibility for our actions affecting all other people, all living things, and our environment, the ideas encompassed in the Theosophical Worldview could well offer one of the most important messages in the post World War II period.

After nearly forty years, the Kern Foundation still provides the single most important outside support for the American Section of the Society. Yet, the success of the National Center can continue to grow only if others will step up to provide even greater funding in order to support additional programmatic as well as much needed capital improvements. Today, even the combination of the Kern Foundation and the Theosophical Investment Trust cannot provide sufficient funds for all that could be done. We must continue to seek out new contributions which will allow for the increase of the outreach of the Society. Though we are enormously proud of my father's remarkable legacy, we know that new and increased contributions, regardless of size, are essential to support this expanded outreach of Theosophy. Think of your ability to impact the Society even decades from now, and show your support through a financial contribution.

When We Burned the Bonds

by Janet Kerschner

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Kerschner, Janet. "When We Burned the Bonds." Quest 95.5 (SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007):

Eighty years ago, the Theosophical Society in America moved into its new headquarters in Wheaton, Illinois. Envisioned as a serene retreat, centrally located and readily accessible to Chicago by President L. W. Rogers, the Wheaton complex has served generations of Theosophists as a spiritual home. The land, construction of the main building, and equipment cost $250,000, quite a large sum in 1927. Here is the story of how Theosophists financed our national headquarters, and how we burned the bonds.

Early in his presidency, L. W. Rogers instituted a search for a new headquarters location to replace the severely overcrowded Oakdale building in Chicago. Board Member Kay Campbell located a site in Wheaton, Illinois, which the Society purchased in 1925. A Building Fund was established, and excitement grew nationwide at the prospect of a new headquarters.

The May 1925 issue of The Messenger invited members to suggest ideas for raising $100,000, with a prize of $100 going to the lodge with the winning entry. Over forty responses ranging from little heart-felt notes to elaborate proposals with samples of forms and brochures arrived by the June 1 deadline. Entries included conventional plans for pledge drives, mortgages, and sale of bricks, but some were distinctly inventive. One writer asked each lodge to compose a song, preferably a popular ballad, which could be sold as sheet music. A "Soul's SOS" called for sacrificial gifts. Inspired by the Biblical parable of Mathew 25, "Talent Tithes" asked each individual to invest a small sum for the profit of the Society. An offbeat proposal was to earn money from a Society-owned sanitarium that would "concentrate on Mental Cases—naturally a Theosophical field—securing experts on curing obsessions etc. by Theosophical scientific methods." Most writers attempted to attract participation from as many members as possible to encourage a sense of brotherhood and ownership in the national home.

The winning proposal from the Houston Lodge asked each local branch to be responsible for bringing in pledges over a three-year period which were proportionate to their membership. The progress of this pro rata plan was reported in a Building Fund Bulletin in The Messenger, tracking the success of the lodges in eliciting pledges. Within a year, members pledged over $163,000, but only $39,122 cash was in hand. President Rogers faced the need for short-term financing of $135,000. Reluctant to pay an extra $10,000 to banks for mortgage commissions and prepayment fees, he called upon the membership to invest in bonds paying 6% interest. Theosophists responded enthusiastically, investing in amounts from $10 to $5000. Issuance of bonds was finely calibrated to the monthly requirements of construction, and contractors were paid on schedule as the building took form.

On August 29, 1926, Annie Besant presided over the laying of the cornerstone in a Masonic ceremony, and one year later, staff moved into a headquarters building that was wholly owned by the Society. No mortgage debt had been incurred. Bonds were aggressively paid off as pledged donations arrived, before maturity when possible, until the Great Depression struck. In 1930, as the economy bottomed out, some members declined to renew their building bonds, or asked to cash them in early. National Treasurer Sidney Cook asked wealthier Theosophists "to give a practical expression of brotherhood" by taking on extra bond commitments to accommodate their fellows in need. He worked tirelessly through the Dust Bowl era to keep up with financial obligations.

As national president in 1937, Cook introduced a lively Burn the Bonds campaign to retire remaining debt. International President Arundale encouraged the effort, writing "these bonds are eager for cremation, for they know that their sacrifice is Olcott's freedom to do more even than it has done before." Sidney Cook said "The world needs Theosophy. Debt is a barrier. Fire, destroyer and regenerator, clears the way. LET'S BURN THE BONDS." During the summer Convention of 1938, busloads of onlookers delighted in a "dramatic incineration ceremony" on the front lawn at Olcott. Retired bonds totaling $301,000 filled a perforated barrel that was suspended from a rustic framework. A torch passed through the hands of Theosophists representing the past, present, and future, to Eugene J. Wix, head of the Burn the Bonds committee. His successful campaign reduced indebtedness to members by $20,000. The final bonds were paid off in 1944, when, after almost twenty years of fundraisers, letters, articles, and pleas, the Theosophical Society was relieved of debt. Sidney Cook wrote, "Freedom won!"

Part II: Recalling the Beginnings

by Joy Mills

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Mills, Joy. "Part II: Recalling the Beginnings." Quest 95.5 (SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007):

When I entered the national president's office that morning in July 1965, as the first woman to hold the office of president of the American Section, there was one document on the desk which, as I read it, both challenged and inspired me. That document was the portion of the Kern Foundation Trust Agreement which opened the door for grants to be made to the Theosophical Society in America, the Krotona Institute of Theosophy, and possibly (based on certain criteria) to the Happy Valley School in Ojai, California. The opportunities for creative new programs that would carry the theosophical message to an ever wider audience; the possibilities that appeared to open before us as we were encouraged by Herbert Kern's words in that document; the future that seemed to beckon us to move forward in ways we had not dared to dream of in the light of our limited resources: these—the opportunities, the possibilities, an amazing future—constituted the challenge embodied in the Kern Foundation Trust Agreement.

So, where to begin? Recalling many conversations with Herbert Kern during his later years, long before I knew of his intent to establish a foundation that would so benefit the Society, I proposed to the National Board of Directors that our first request should be for funds to begin a program of publishing high-quality paperbacks, available at a modest cost, that would bring Theosophy to a larger audience than had ever been possible before. This meant subsidizing the actual cost of publishing such books and undertaking an advertising program to make our literature known on a national scale never before attempted. Theosophical literature, books, in particular, had been one of Herbert Kern's deepest passions. This I knew from those informal conversations with him, and he had even spoken of the need to have basic Theosophy available in paperback at a price that the average person could easily afford.

With the unanimous agreement of the Board of Directors, I then developed a proposal based on what it would cost us to publish at least two titles during the coming year as well as advertise them in the trade journal, Publishers Weekly, and in some of the better mass-circulation magazines. A Kern Foundation Programs Committee was established, with John Kern as a member and Helen Zahara, who, after eight years as head of the Australian Section, had recently joined our American headquarters staff, as coordinator of the Kern Foundation Programs. At that moment in time, none of us, I certainly least of all, had any idea how those programs would multiply, expand, develop, and reach into every area of the American Section's work.

When we received word that our first grant application had been approved and the funds for a new publishing program would be forthcoming, I suggested to my colleagues on the staff that we might find a suitable name for this new program, one that would distinguish us from other paperback publications on the market. So began a number of brain-storming sessions as we tried out one idea after another, until one day, during our afternoon tea-time, I said casually, "Let's call them Quest Books." I went on to say that as Theosophists are inquirers, on a quest for wisdom, such a name seemed most appropriate. There was unanimous agreement and so "Quest Books" was born! The year was 1966.

To record the full story of the birth and early years of Quest Books would take a sizeable volume, in addition to which would have to be added various other projects for which grants were requested as we began to visualize the expansion of theosophical activities. In that same year, 1966, a World Congress of the Society was held in Salzburg, Austria, hosted by the European Federation of Theosophical Societies. With our new publishing program in its infancy, we called for an International Publishing Conference to be convened as part of the World Congress and while the American Section financed my participation in the Congress, the Kern Foundation aided in subsidizing the participation of several of our key workers. We discussed possibilities of collaboration with the publishing programs undertaken by the English Section (London) and at Adyar. It was at that time, too, that by mutual agreement, we changed our name from the Theosophical Press to the Theosophical Publishing House with the title page of all publications, whether produced by Wheaton, London, or Adyar, carrying the names of all three publishers to indicate the international scope of our publishing program. At the same time, of course, each of the publishing houses would maintain its own independent structure and operation.

Not all of the programs initiated with Kern Foundation support during those early years proved completely successful, but it was only with that support that we could venture into new areas. For example, with grant assistance we initiated Quest Films, with two award-winning films being produced by professional film companies. A grant for a Writers' Fellowship Program enabled us to encourage new writers to produce works of a contemporary nature. Under that program, we turned to a member who was already an accomplished writer and journalist, Howard Murphet, and asked that he write easily readable biographies of H. S. Olcott and H. P. Blavatsky. As a result, the books, Yankee Beacon of Buddhist Light (originally titled Hammer on the Mountain) and When Daylight Comes, were produced and published.

Again, it would take a major volume to document the development of program after program which received Kern Foundation grant support, and many wonderful stories could be told as we adventured onto untrodden ground in those early years, each program calling on us to extend our capacities to meet our obligations in fulfilling our commitment. As the Quest Books program expanded, there was an urgent need for more staff and more space at our National Headquarters. So, at the Summer Convention of 1968, just two years after the launching of Quest Books, and with the full and unanimous support of the National Board of Directors, I inaugurated a campaign to build the second major structure—a building that would house our rapidly expanding publishing house as well as provide accommodations for our enlarged staff on the headquarters estate. And for this, funds from the Kern Foundation could not be made available, since the Trust Agreement specifically forbade grants for "brick and mortar." This meant the members had to provide the funding if we were to continue on the road on which we had embarked with our publishing program and the many other programs that had, in one way or another, become spin-offs of Quest Books.

So it was that in 1969, just three years after the Quest Books program had begun, we laid the cornerstone of the Theosophical Publishing House building. The members had risen to the challenge of providing the funds and the Kern Foundation aided us in such ways as they could within the framework of Herbert Kern's Trust Agreement.

And now, without lengthening this story further by indulging in further recollections, let me use the example of the way in which the members of the American Section responded to the call for funding the construction of the publishing house building to remind today's members of their responsibilities in maintaining the essential work of their Section. Two aspects of the Kern Foundation's Trust Agreement should be especially noted. The first has just been mentioned: funds are not available for "bricks and mortar," and while in more recent years the Sellon Charitable Trust has become available to assist with some major work in connection with the Headquarters two major buildings, it is ultimately the responsibility of the members to see that our National Headquarters is maintained in the best condition possible. As one who presided over the work of the American Section for nine years, which included those exciting and eventful years when the Kern Foundation became operative, I know only too well that buildings age and need continual attention and it is the contributions of the members, donations large and small, given out of love and devotion to the work of the Society, that make possible the maintenance of the beautiful physical plant which houses that work.

The second aspect of the Trust Agreement which I recognized on that July day in 1965 when I first read the document is simply that the grants from the Kern Foundation were intended as "seed" money for programs that would extend and expand the work of making Theosophy better known in the world. As I have related above, I have omitted mention of the fact that at the same time that we were venturing into new areas, the normal work of the Society through its various departments—Membership, Library, Information, etc.—was going forward, financed as it had always been, by the dues and contributions of its members. For it was Herbert Kern's view, as I well knew, that consideration in the disbursement of grants would be given to those organizations whose members showed a willingness to support their own organizations. So it is that we must always do our part to see that the "seed" money is nourished and added to by our own contributions. There is not one department of the Theosophical Society in America that has not been impacted by the generous grants from the Kern Foundation; the inception of Quest Books alone, for example, brought increased work for staff in Membership, Information, Library, Administration, and every other department at the National Headquarters. The same has been true at the Krotona Institute of Theosophy, where grants for our educational programs—through the School, the Library, and the Bookshop—have increased the work load of all who work and serve at this vital center.

It is always true that for those to whom much is given, much is also demanded. In Letter 140 of The Mahatma Letters to A. P. Sinnett, written in 1886, H. P. Blavatsky wrote: "Make your activity commensurate with your opportunities." Note she did not say our activities were to be measured by our resources, whether human or financial, but by our "opportunities." The opportunities that still lie before us in bringing the theosophical perspective to bear on human and world problems, in transforming the consciousness of humanity and in birthing an era of peace and genuine brotherhood, are greater today than at any time in the history of our planet. United we can do much; let each one do their part to ensure that the Theosophical Society as a whole meets the challenges we collectively face.

The Solitary Retreat Musings of Ani Kunzang Droima, Part 2

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Molina, Lilia. "The Solitary Retreat Musings of Ani Kunzang Droima, Part 2." Quest 95.5 (SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007):

In conjunction with the Theosophical Society's pilgrimage to Blavatsky's Tibet, we share with you a continuation of reflections from a solitary retreat in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. Ani Kunzang Drolma, a Buddhist nun of the Tibetan Kagyu Lineage, went into solitary meditation in November, 2005. Many of her realizations are so universal that they may reflect in some small way the impact of the meditative Tibetan pilgrimage account found in the President's Diary. The first part of Ani's experience (Quest, September-October 2006) gave details about the beginning of her retreat and the daily routine. We continue with her musings from March, 2006.

March 8, 2006

Today I feel peaceful. More peaceful than I can remember feeling. During afternoon practice, I realized that I had been asking all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas to make the outer circumstance of my retreat conducive to practice. Specifically, I had been wanting my family's lives to go well. Now I see they have their own karma. They don't perceive their own lives the way I do. My anxiety about them is really about me. I just let go. My life for now is here in retreat. I love my family deeply. I wish the best for them in all areas of their lives but I'm here. I'm here when babies are born, while there are high points and lows, successes and failures, accidents, surprises, traumas and joys. I'm here saying prayers and mantras and looking at the nature of mind. If I were with them I would be part of the drama. Here I have the opportunity to transcend the dramas. So I am peaceful at least for the moment. I have learned very vividly that no matter what the feeling is, it changes.

March 13, 2006

We've had lots of snow, lots for this elevation in California. I've enclosed a photo.

March 17, 2006

The snow seems to have ended for now but there are still white patches here and there. I'm such a California woman. Don't really like snow except in small patches that go away quickly.

Practice goes well. Sometimes I have a tendency to daydream. The other day as I was wandering off, I realized that daydreams have never brought me happiness. I want to be happy so I need to control this diversion. It was such a nice realization, I think I will still struggle but now reason is on my side, as well as the internal injunction to concentrate. Reason has always been my ally.

I am getting some inklings that this retreat will totally change how I see myself. Sometimes in the middle of a session, my self-image/identification weakens, things become a bit transparent, for an instant or two. I can't really explain it any better. It's such a relief when this occurs. Relaxing tension from my whole life. Maybe from many lives.

March 25, 2006

My anxiety and depression have vanished. Occasionally, I get a minute or two of anxiety but it's within normal bounds. I've been pondering this. The very same thoughts that 6 weeks ago seemingly aroused despair, now arise, float around a bit and dissipate with little or no negative emotion. I think it is possible that negative emotions arise and we attach them to issues we're experiencing in our outer lives. If the fit is "good" we keep the afflicted emotion and outer experience together with mental glue. We feel pressure and act to relieve this pressure. The action perpetuates the pattern. Here in retreat, I just have to sit with the emotions and the thoughts. The only action available is to look at the pattern. Here it is so much easier to see that the pattern of afflictive emotional state leading to actions which set up conditions for further afflictive emotions is useless at best and usually quite damaging. Some of my dysfunctional patterns have been replaying for years and years.

I think I would have been a better parent, sister, friend, and even wife if I had recognized that I do not have to blindly play out these patterns. I'm incredibly grateful for the chance to be here, to have been given some tools that dismantle the whole neurotic structure and that maybe can free us all together. Perhaps the negative emotions do not really arise because of the circumstances of our everyday lives. Perhaps they just arise as habitual thought patterns. Maybe it was by clearing these habitual thought patterns, the great saints and Mahasiddhis were able to endure horrendous life conditions with little or no concern and even joy, and not only endure, but also accomplish great benefit for all of us.

March 29, 2006

Yesterday was a Tsok day (a bit like a Eucharist). I was thinking of my family and their various needs, issues, fears, etc., and it came to me on a deep, clear level that there was absolutely nothing more beneficial I could do for them than to gain enlightenment, even "seeking" it diligently and with sincerity would benefit them; now they might not agree, and the benefit may not be immediately apparent. What if Khenpo Tsultrim had gone to take care of his mother, brother, or whoever instead of practicing in various places? Now his wisdom shines in all of us who have heard him. I don't pretend I will ever have the level of the realization or scholarship of Khenpo Tsultrim or Lama Lodro, but I do think I can make some progress. I am at peace about my family, at peace that here is where I need to be and want to be. But the thoughts of them do keep arising. It is now much easier to feel that all beings are my relatives and that all suffer and all need liberation.

I was reading a book about Saraha's Dohos (spiritual teachings in the form of poems), by Herbert Guenther called Ecstatic Spontaneity. It is written in one of the most obtuse and confusing styles I have ever encountered. I had to slowly read a sentence out loud to even figure out slightly what he was talking about. There was a phrase that captivated me. "There are no things here only relationships." When I pondered on it, I was stunned. As I write this letter there is a relationship web of finger, hand, pen, paper, eyes, muscles, sight, memory, etc. And fingers are in relationship to DNA, parents, parents' emotional states, nutrition, teachers. Paper is in relationship with tree, sun, water, earth, loggers, etc. In fact, each focus of the relationship web is a center focus of a vast web of its own. I thought about "Indra's Net," in terms of my awareness, but now I see all phenomena in this net. This is an incredibly complex web of relationships. When I contemplate this web, I feel like I'm standing on an incline covered with loose gravel, a bit insecure because suddenly there is no longer any "mine." How can it be my eye, when all the physical aspects of it, the energetic aspects of it, even its name, only exist as a temporary focal point in this vast, continually changing web of relationship?[The] "Me" [being] even more ephemeral. Certainly not the body parts, not the feeling, emotions which are even more fleeting relationships. Not the web of thoughts, not anything, yet here I write this letter.

April 10, 2006 I am now doing Guru Yoga, a profound practice. It really is the practice that sets up the conditions in which Mahamudra realization can occur. In the Vajrayana this is practice in which devotion is cultivated. Lama-la said to me that in the instant of pure uncontrived devotion, realization dawns. Obviously, I have a ways to go.

May 22, 2006

Meditation goes well for 3 or 4 days, then I have a couple of sluggish days. I talk to Lama about the sluggishness; he says it's normal. I think I need to exert more self-discipline. Sometimes I feel like this retreat is as much a "rest" from the stress of single parenthood/ modern American lifestyle as it is a spiritual quest.

We live in such a competitive world, or I perceive it that way. It seems to me that in order to feel like a successful competent adult, we must be financially successful, have a profession we are good at, be healthy, be thin, exercise regularly, be attractive, have a successful "mate" relationship, be outstanding parents, keep up on current affairs, keep our houses clean and neat, including yards and garages, be well groomed, be unaffected by aging either in terms of our bodies or minds, associate only with other successful people, have no addictions, no bothersome personality traits, etc. Lots of these, of course, are just my own take, but I think most are right on the money. No wonder so many of us are incredibly stressed. So few of us really feel successful. So I have, in addition to meditating on the nature of my mind, been resting. Just being who I am, a mixture of faults and virtues, so mixed up, I can't really separate the two so I just have to accept the whole package.

I wrote a poem that came as I just sat with myself after a meditation session.

Just resting,

Listening to the rustle of lizards

Scurrying along my canvas fence

With love and deep gratitude

For your Friendship

Kunzang

And so it goes during this Solitary Retreat—until 2009.

Correspondence by Ani Kunzang, P.O. Box 43, Laytonville CA 95454

In the Name of Love

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Rajan, Ananya S. "In the Name of Love." Quest 95.5 (SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2007):

Theosophy for us must be a way of life, including thinking and feeling, not mere lecturing and attendance at meetings.

—N. Sri Ram

Love, it is such a potent word. As Theosophists, we know that love is the basis of Theosophy. Without love, Theosophy could not exist. Without love, Theosophy is nothing. Love is the force that holds the universe together and keeps the cycle of everything going. Love gives us the power to know ourselves and others.

Love has many definitions in the dictionary, but despite the various ways to describe love, the commonality that all the definitions have are words like "attraction," "concern," "loyalty," "affection," "benevolence," "devotion." They are words of altruism: words that are used when we think about others we care for and words we use when we act on behalf of another's benefit. They are words that we use toward people we love. They are also watchwords for Theosophist. Theosophists are people who find themselves searching for the deeper meaning behind the actions of the universe and our humanity, who hold the welfare of others higher than their own, and whose every action is made with thoughtfulness and concern of how that action will affect others. Theosophists are people who hold love as sacred because true love is Theosophy and such love is altruism.

In The Key to Theosophy, Madame Blavatsky is asked whether the Theosophical Society (TS) regards self-sacrifice a duty of members and she replies, "We do; and explain it by showing that altruism is an integral part of self-development." She warns that such self-sacrifice must be used with discrimination and that it does no good to be fanatic about one's self-sacrifice: "A man has no right to starve himself to death that another man may have food, unless the life of that man is obviously more useful to the many than is his own life" (142).

In the same regard, Madame Blavatsky clarifies that there is never a time when self-sacrifice cannot be performed. In every moment of our lives, there is always an opportunity to do something for another and, in turn, aid our own self-development:

No man has a right to say that he can do nothing for others, on any pretext whatever. . . . A cup of cold water given in a time to a thirsty wayfarer is a nobler duty and more worth than a dozen of dinners given away, out of season, to men who can afford to pay for them. No man who has not got it in him will ever become a Theosophist; but may remain a member of our Society all the same. We have no rules by which we could force any man to become a practical Theosophist, if he does not desire to be one.

When asked why a person should enter the Society at all if they do not agree with the above statement, Madame Blavatsky replies, "That is best known to him who does so. For, here again, we have no right to prejudge a person, not even if the voice of a whole community should be against him" (144). This is an example of not only the altruistic attitude of H. P. Blavatsky (HPB), but also the courageous endurance with which she lived her life. Altruism is not only about action, but includes our outlook on life and the way we think about a particular situation. To be open-minded and not give in to the negativity of others, benefits humanity more than we may know. It is impossible to know the truth of any given situation as there are myriad factors and intentions involved. Theosophy practices truth and to practice truth, we need to keep an open-mind and a pure heart. It is through such practice that we can know love.

One year after Annie Besant took office in 1907, she formed the Theosophical Order of Service (TOS). With a motto that states "A union of those who love; for the service of all who suffer," Mrs. Besant created an arm of the Society that allowed Theosophists to put into action the principles by which they lived their lives. As many know, Mrs. Besant worked on behalf of several different social causes so it was not surprising that she felt Theosophy and the Theosophical Society were the perfect platform for a service organization. However, Madame Blavatsky wrote in The Key to Theosophy that, "the Theosophical ideas of charity mean personal exertion for others; personal mercy and kindness; personal interest in the welfare of those who suffer; personal sympathy, fore-thought and assistance in their troubles or needs. We believe in relieving the starvation of the soul, as much if not more than the emptiness of the stomach" (145).

It would seem that HPB felt that each individual member should perform such charity on an individual basis. If this is the case, then an organization like the Theosophical Order of Service could possibly be looked at as contradictory to what Madame Blavatsky proposed members of the Society should do. Perhaps an organization like the Theosophical Order of Service could make such actions institutionalized; often helping those one may never meet and providing charity without really knowing who or what one was helping. Yet, while it sounds contradictory, it could also be a warning to members of the Theosophical Society and the Theosophical Order of Service to be careful about how they go about relieving the suffering of others.

When the Theosophical Society was founded, there was not another organization like it. If we try to understand what the founders had in mind when they started the TS, on the surface it seems very easy:

To form a nucleus of the universal brotherhood of humanity, without distinction of race, creed, sex, caste or color,

To encourage the study of comparative religion, philosophy, and science,

To investigate unexplained laws of nature and the powers latent in man.

These objects are easy enough until one tries to put them into practice. As Theosophists, there are many situations we come upon in life that are in direct contrast to how we live our lives and what we believe promotes unity. Theosophy is about discovering the unity in all life. Not just the human life, but the life that vibrates all around us. It is about the realization that we are part of that life and that vibrancy. The Theosophical Society provides seekers with different resources to study and understand this unity, but it is up to the individual to take the first step into the world in order to put the concept into action and make it practical.

When Annie Besant founded the Theosophical Order of Service, the initial formation was a bit haphazard. Wanting to apply the objects of the Society to the world, members of the TS dove into one activity after another and one "league," as they were called at the time, after another was formed. There were leagues for the blind, the disabled, the orphaned, the imprisoned, the poor, the uneducated, and for animal welfare. The enthusiasm was wonderful and heartfelt, but as Madame Blavatsky warned, self-sacrifice must be discriminate. As quickly as the organization blossomed, it also began to wilt. There was an initial lack of structure and guidance. However, if the roots of a plant are hearty, the plant will survive and as did the TOS. With the help of different leaders and more support from the Theosophical Society, the Theosophical Order of Service became, and continues to be, a diverse, unique organization with many dynamic leaders.

What makes the Theosophical Order of Service different from other service organizations and keeps it from being institutionalized is Theosophy. Theosophy is a living wisdom that teaches that there is, "one absolute, incomprehensible, and . . . infinite essence as the root of all nature, and of all that is, visible and invisible" (Key, p. 2) and that this essence is part of everyone and everything around us. When we truly feel this and produce action from this way of being, the action cannot but help others because it comes from that oneness which is love in all its totality. There are no boundaries, there is no separation, there is no you and me. There is just one. The action is personal because there is no difference. It is this "personal interest" that Madame Blavatsky spoke about in The Key to Theosophy. The action that one does should be personal; it should be from the heart. It is this action that keeps Theosophy alive and a service organization like the TOS vibrant and constantly renewed. It is also this type of action that makes us practical Theosophists.

Quest Magazine

Personal Reminiscences on the Origins of the Kern Foundation

When We Burned the Bonds

Part II: Recalling the Beginnings

The Solitary Retreat Musings of Ani Kunzang Droima, Part 2

In the Name of Love

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