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 soars like a bird above the previous peak from which it fell. Each time he rises there is a greater confidence and wider balance. The Light from the spirit planes of consciousness now starts dwelling in him for a longer time. In this cyclic yet progressive, incredible climb into the heaven of spirit and the fall back into matter of earth, something in Ashwapati grows like a new moon. Just like a new moon gets brighter every night, the glory of an independent real soul keeps growing in him. Finally he begins experiencing that merging into the Supreme Reality which is ultimately Real, united with its multiple unique evolving expressions. He sees through the eyes of that one Divine Self which looks out from multiple eyes. His eternity dispersed in the hours, minutes and seconds is experienced as an ’Eternal Now’. It widens those fragmented view of things into a holistic viewpoint. Ashwapati becomes conscious of the Whole and sees a connection across the gap between man’s limited force and Fate of Destiny.
Instead of an austere construction of life, people expect sweet dreams to comfort them, and easy achievements amidst and environment of the Magi of "occult" novels. But the crown of the Arhat is attained only by the strongest, in the severest tension of achievement, and through a powerful, unshakeable striving of the heart, purified by bloody tears of sufferings throughout many, many lives. The heart of the Arhat has to go through all the joys and also all the sufferings and the sorrows of the earthly path; he must drink the entire chalice of poison. Verily, hard is the path of ascent, and especially on the last steps. It can be compared to a climb in the darkness over steep basalt rocks when the hand searches in vain for a jut to get hold of. However, handrails are prepared for the striving spirit, and only at the last moment of complete exhaustion before a fall will the solicitous Hand give support. This was also my experience while my heart was almost breaking under the incredible tension felt during such an ascent. Yes, many symbols of the hard ascent were manifested. Moreover, the complete draining of the full chalice of poison is inevitable at the consummation of the path. Yet, with all that, when the spirit has known lofty joys, when the beauty of the higher worlds is cognized, all these difficulties do not frighten, but even bring their own joy, for they signify the approach of the end of the path. Thus, a Judas also must appear in order to throw into greater emphasis the light on the path.
- Agni Yoga
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