Yoga of Synthesis: At the gateway of new Civilisation, Culture and Ideals of the Aquarian Age

Travelling  from the kingdoms and godheads of the little life to the Kingdoms and godheads of the greater life.  Adventuring once more in the natal mist Across the dangerous haze, the pregnant stir, He through the astral chaos shore a way Mid the grey faces of its demon gods, The watching opacity multiplied as he moved Its hostile mass of dead and staring eyes; The darkness glimmered like a dying torch. Around him an extinguished phantom glare Peopled with shadowy and misleading shapes The vague Inconscient’s dark and measureless cave. His only sunlight was his spirit’s flame. Now in the last section before he moves on to a greater life, Aswapati is once again for the last time experiencing the fog and the dangerous haze of vital dark emotions that are stirring. Sri Aurobindo says as Aswapati cut a way through the astral chaos that moves the little life, the grey faces of demons and the ambiguous dead staring eyes multiplied. The darkness flickered like a dying torch, like an extinguis

  Almost 100 years ago, On 17th January, in the Jubilee year (1925) of the Theosophical Society, Nicholas Roerich came to Adyar.  A great Russian following, fifty years after, in the footsteps of a greater Russian, whom he also worshipped as a fearless apostle, a messenger from the Inner World of Light, known to us as H. P. Blavatsky.  Roerich left the Old World to take his message to the New and from America continued his pilgrimage—Eastward—to the goal of his dreams and the shrine of his hopes. India! what has that name meant for him! By his work you will know. In his hands he bears a gift and a torch. The gift is a painting in tempera, “The Messenger,” the work of his own hands, the creation of his own genius, the testimony of his faith, the witness of his love, the earnest of his dedication to the Great Cause and its Greatest Servants. The Torch is the torch of Beauty.   Roerich, in one beautiful and dignified sentence made his presentation:  “In this Home of Light, let me present

 Last year we had discovered the mathematical expression of Synthesis while contemplating and meditating on the philosophy and psychology of Synthesis as taught by some advanced mystics and occultists (the messengers of the hierarchy or the disciples in the inner ashrams of masters). So we explicitly summarise that discovery in the attached image for application in future posts and humbly remind ourselves the words of our beloved teacher Djwal Khul ! Being geometric it fits in the definition of an occult symbol - "The forms built by the man of an occult trend of thought, and who is more dominated by mind, will be of a geometrical type. The outlines will be clear, and will be apt to be rigid. The form will be more painstakingly built and the man, during meditation, will proceed with greater care and accuracy. He will (if I may so express it) take a pride in the manipulation of the material that goes to the building of the form. Matter of the mental plane will be more apparent and—t

 Always the power poured back like sudden rain, Or slowly in his breast a presence grew; It clambered back to some remembered height Or soared above the peak from which it fell. Each time he rose there was a larger poise, A dwelling on a higher spirit plane; The Light remained in him a longer space. In this oscillation between earth and heaven, In this ineffable communion’s climb There grew in him as grows a waxing moon The glory of the integer of his soul. A union of the Real with the unique, A gaze of the Alone from every face, The presence of the Eternal in the hours Widening the mortal mind’s half-look on things, Bridging the gap between man’s force and Fate Made whole the fragment-being we are here. Ashwapati’s falls do not last and the power of Lord or that supreme Diplomat, keeps returning back like a sudden shower. It gradually grows into a Divine presence in Ashwapati’s heart. Ashwapati’s consciousness then climbs back to a height that it remembers having reached earlier. It s

I have been trying to bring some order to my haphazard way of writing posts. Although this could not be avoided over the past few years (due to the surge of new energy), I intuit that now might be the right time. This blog is about my personal crisis and a minor initiation (in the language of theosophy) that I underwent to be able to find a solution to all that I had been seeking: the yoga of synthesis, which is the yoga of a new age and a new race being evolved. Before going any further, we will take a brief look at the synopsis of Savitri and its synthesis with theosophy.

 Only awhile at first these heavenlier states, These large wide-poised upliftings could endure. The high and luminous tension breaks too soon, The body’s stone stillness and the life’s hushed trance, The breathless might and calm of silent mind; Or slowly they fail as sets a golden day. The restless nether members tire of peace; A nostalgia of old little works and joys, A need to call back small familiar selves, To tread the accustomed and inferior way, The need to rest in a natural pose of fall, As a child who learns to walk can walk not long, Replace the titan will for ever to climb, On the heart’s altar dim the sacred fire. An old pull of subconscious cords renews; It draws the unwilling spirit from the heights, Or a dull gravitation drags us down To the blind driven inertia of our base. This too the supreme Diplomat can use, He makes our fall a means for greater rise. Ashwapati's heavenly uplifted states on the higher planes of consciousness could not persist in the beginning.