Sunday, June 12, 2016

On Evolutionary Enlightenment (2)

Andrew taught that there were two aspects of enlightenment. One of them was exactly as Ramana Maharshi described, timeless, changeless, always perfect, the unconditioned. Always the sense of no problem whatsoever. The other side was the evolutionary side, where we’re always in crises, the house is always burning down. Andrew declared he’d gone beyond most eastern teachers as they only taught the first side of enlightenment but not the second. But when he spoke about the first side, he was very much like those eastern teachers. When he spoke about the unconditioned, he didn’t speak about evolution, or change. When speaking about the unconditioned, he insisted from this perspective everything was always perfect, there was never any problem, nothing to do, nothing to become. Andrew taught both sides of enlightenment were important; both had to be practiced independently of one another. When meditating, there should be no thought of action or evolution. And when acting in the the world, one should participate fully, without any reference back to that experience in meditation.

When I picked up his book on Evolutionary enlightenment (as a former student), I found the parts on the evolutionary perspective difficult to read, and didn’t get far. But reading the beginning where he set out the unconditioned view, I felt myself sinking inside despite myself, feeling that spiritual experience, even though I didn’t particularly want to. It still had power over me.

I think Andrew had a genuine connection with that first side of enlightenment, the unconditioned. I think he was able to transmit it, and I think that gave him his power. But it wasn’t good enough for him, at least not alone. After all, what’s the good of powerful experiences if they don’t lead into action, if we remain selfish, if we remain divided and in crises as a species? What good are such experiences if afterwards his students still behaved in ways Andrew found annoying, that brought his attention to aspects of himself he was assiduously avoiding? It’s a tempting thought, and I certainly bought into it. But it was his use of the second side of the teachings that in retrospect seems to be where the mess came from, where he confused the evolutionary impulse with his deepest fears and insecurities, and that resulted in a community of terrified people trying to live up to and project a particular standard that by and large was the reflection of the neurosis of our teacher.
 On retreats, at least when I was a student, Andrew always started with the unconditioned. The first few days of a retreat would always be about meditation, about sinking into that place of meditation. Only when we were grounded enough in that view, would he go on to the evolutionary teachings, the five tenets, or whatever it was at the time. Ostensibly, this was because we needed to be grounded in the unconditioned view to have the depth of vision to explore the more advanced part of the teachings. In actuality, I think that meditation was necessary to make us malleable, to make it easier to manipulate us.

I don’t like the term “evolutionary enlightenment.” I’m not ruling it out. But most of the time when I’ve heard it used, it’s together with the assumption of an evolutionary wave of which we spiritual folk are at the edge of. The unspoken assumption appears to be, just by being aware of evolution, we are more evolutionary advanced. In my opinion, a friend of mine said it best (and I hope I’m stating what he said correctly) when he said he didn’t like the “evolutionary view,” but if we were going to refer to such then everyone and everything would have to be considered to be on the evolutionary edge.



Thursday, June 2, 2016

On Love

Andrew didn't use the word "love" very often and didn't seem to like it, even though when he was asked where it came in, he'd say "at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end." At the time, I thought he worried that using it would lead into a mushy feel-good approach to things. He would also say that most people didn't know what love was, and he'd say, "True love burns." He seemed to feel he was the only one who knew what love was, and of course humiliating people, at least when he did it, was an expression of this cosmic love.


In retrospect, one of the more painful destructive aspects of being Andrew's students was the effort we made to make Andrew's twisted ideas about love our own.