The Carriage, the Horse, and the Coachman

Gurdjieff often evoked the analogy of a carriage, a horse, and a coachman, in order to explain the functioning of human beings.

“A man as a whole with all his separately concentrated and functioning localizations, that is to say, his formed and independently educated ‘personalities,’ is almost exactly comparable to that organization for conveying a passenger, which consists of a carriage, a horse, and a coachman.” – All and Everything – Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson, page 1192

In the analogy, the carriage represents the physical body, the horse represents the organization of human feeling, and the driver represents the whole totality of the manifestations of human mentation—what is generally described as thinking.

Gurdjieff goes into quite a lot of detail regarding each—and is generally not very complimentary of their manifestation in contemporary man:

“… a broken-down carriage which has long ago seen its day, a crock of a horse, and on the box, a tatterdemalion half-sleepy, half-drunken coachman whose time for self-perfection passes while he waits on the corner, fantastically daydreaming, for any chance passenger.” – Ibid. page 1193

I’m sure that some would nod in agreement, while many, maybe many more, would consider Gurdjieff’s assessment harsh and unfair, but, I wonder, how many would consider the assessment in the light of their own personal self-observations? Yet, to me, this is exactly the point—not whether I agree or disagree with the analogy in my mind based on want I have heard or believe, but rather, what is my experience of that which I call myself?

Self-observation seems to be a function of the coachman being directed by a passenger who sits in the carriage , but does just any chance passenger have any real idea of what constitutes self-observation—or interest in it—and if by chance he does, how long will he even remain in the carriage?

“And Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Legion, for we are many.” – Mark 5:9

But before I even ask myself the question; what do I observe, perhaps I need to first ask myself the question; Am I even able to observe, and, if so, under what circumstances?

I remember being in a meeting with the yogi Swami Vishnu Devananda many years ago when he was asked a question about some yogic practice. His response was; “It is possible, but can you do it when your mind is tired of playing the yogi?” In other words, when the passenger—the I—in the carriage is interested in yoga then it directs the driver in that direction, but not all of the passengers that ride in that carriage are interested in, or even know anything about, yoga.

And so, I have noticed that my own attempts at self-observation appear to be limited to only certain situations and occasions (when the right passenger happens to be sitting in the carriage)  and even then, my observations often seem quite vague and fleeting (perhaps the result of having a tatterdemalion half-sleepy, half-drunken coachman sitting in the driver’s seat)?

Gurdjieff’s solution to the problem of multiple passengers with multiple desires directing the driver is what he calls the temporary steward. In the case of our analogy, a group of passengers appoint from among themselves a temporary steward to administer the affairs of the carriage, the coachman, and the horse, with respect to an over-all aim of making the rig suitable for the real owner to come and sit in the carriage and take over its affairs. The real owner is the real I – real Self – the real Master—Conscious God—the one who Gurdjieff calls man number seven.

“But you have filled His abode with millions of strangers and He cannot enter, for He is shy of strangers. Unless you empty His abode of these millions of strangers you have filled it with, you will never find God.
“These strangers are your age-old desires — your millions of wants. They are strangers to God because want is an expression of incompleteness and is fundamentally foreign to Him who is All-sufficient and wanting in nothing. Honesty in your dealings with others will clear the strangers out of your heart. Then you will find Him, see Him and realize Him.” – The Everything and the Nothing, Meher Baba

I characterized the carriage, the horse, and the coachman, as an analogy—an analogy that explains the functioning of human beings. Now I would like to explore it as a tool for self-awareness.

Sometimes in a guitar lesson I might ask a student to observe, saying something like; “Let’s take one minute and just observe. I’ll let you know when the minute is over. Okay, let’s start now.”

When the minute is up I’ll ask the student what he observed. More often than not the student does not have much to say and I explain that the problem is because my question was too indefinite. “Observe what?” would have been the reply if I had given the student the time to respond before beginning the exercise.

I explain that I should have been more specific—observe sounds in and outside the studio, or observe the furniture and decor, or observe our thoughts, or our breathing. I might then repeat the exercise giving a more specific object of observation. When the minute is over I repeat the question; “What did you observe?” and the replies—the observations—are of a more detailed nature and quality.

Using the analogy of the carriage, the horse, and the coachman as a basis for self-observation might render a different level of observation than just generally trying to self-observe. This was my assumption, but to acquire real material I had to do—had to attempt—the self-observation.

After a few days, it became clear to me that I only remembered to try to observe at certain times—certain occasions—like during meditation, or while doing yoga, or walking, or playing certain pieces of music, but remembering to try to observe myself was less likely to happen during transitional moments between activities and seldom while talking to people—unless the subject of the conversation had to do spiritual things.

An example of one of my efforts attempting to observe myself through the lens of the carriage, the horse, and the coachman was while taking a long walk around my neighborhood. As I walked I observed that the coachman (my thoughts) seemed to direct the energy of the horse to move the carriage (my body) along the designated route. The driver had an awareness of the coach through the sensations that emanated from it as the result of the coach’s movements.  My body spoke in the language of sensations—sensations that my thoughts interpreted as, either appropriate or inappropriate reactions to the efforts of movement.  I noticed that my thoughts tended to worry or become concerned when the sensations of the body did not seem appropriate to the action of movement.

I wanted to notice the horse and its energy manifesting as feeling—feeling as distinct from the carriage’s language of sensation. With my house in sight I mounted the narrow timber that bridged a little stream in the greenway that divides my street. I observed that my thoughts—the coachman—needed to keep a closer rein on the horse and stay more attentive with regard to balance. I had decided that I would continue my exercise of self-observation until I passed through the door of my house.

But as I stepped off the timber I saw my neighbor standing in the street looking at her front yard. I said hello as I approached and then became engaged in a conversation about her landscaping. My effort at self-observation disappeared and I did not remember again until sometime later. Had a different passenger gotten in the carriage when I saw my neighbor? Had seeing my neighbor affected the coachman or the horse? Had I fallen asleep?

Meditation offered another occasion for my study. My technique was to sit without movement and for fifteen minutes inwardly repeat Meher Baba’s name without allowing my thoughts to wander into the past or the future, or to get involved with solving problems or answering questions. I wanted to keep my thoughts focused on Meher Baba’s name and maintain an awareness of my body to keep my mind rooted in the present. I sometimes imagined myself sitting at God’s door.

Meditation is not new to me and my body—the coach—remains quite still during the exercise. Also, inwardly repeating Meher Baba’s name for the designated time is not too difficult—provided I do not become too involved with other thoughts. But the thoughts—the coachman—cannot be controlled beyond a certain point and I have observed that the coachman has the ability to think other thoughts simultaneously while remembering to repeat Meher Baba’s name. In other words, internally I can repeat Meher Baba’s name but wander away from door while my body remains still.  I observe that there is a very different quality—state?—when I am able to keep my thoughts from wandering. I wonder, when they wander is that an example of the coachman falling asleep and dreaming?

  More self-observation and study of the analogy of the carriage, the horse, and the coachman has led me to these thoughts:

The carriage is attached to the horse, but the coachman and passengers are free to move off and on and in and out of the carriage respectively.

The coachman communicates with the horse by using reins. Sometimes they work better than others.

The coachman senses through his body the sensations emanating from the coach.

The carriage is the only component of this analogy that is not portrayed as a living being.

These thoughts raise questions to be explored through more self-observation:

Though the carriage is portrayed as a mechanical device rather than a living being, my own experience sees my carriage as a living thing—a living body—that seems to have an intelligence of its own which attends to many important functions like breathing, heart function, digestion, instinctive actions, etc., without any apparent help from the coachman or the passenger.

I remember that Gurdjieff called human beings three-brained beings. The three brains corresponded to centers that he named the moving center, the thinking center, and the feeling center. No doubt, these centers correspond respectively to the carriage, the coachman, and the horse. He also said that each of the centers had its own moving, thinking, and feeling sub-centers or parts. I assume, for example, that the instinctive and learned-instinctive actions of the coach—the human body—are controlled by the moving sub-center of the moving center.

Another question is regarding the relationship that exists between the coachman and the passenger. Both are portrayed as human beings, and I assume that they communicate by talking to each other, but how, since one is sitting in the carriage and the other is sitting on top of it?  

And finally, and perhaps most importantly for me, is the whole question surrounding the Self—the real owner and master of the carriage, the horse, and the coachman.

“You and I are not we, but one!” – Meher Baba

Gurdjieff never claimed to be a Perfect Master—a God-realized soul with a duty towards creation.  He never said, “See me as the real owner of the rig.” To the contrary, he said that his students should not accept anything without first experiencing it for themselves.

“Until you experience it, it is not true.” – Kabir

Gurdjieff suggested that the seeker find within himself a collection of I’s that share a common and consistent aim with regard to realizing Truth—Self—, and to delegate to these I’s the authority to consistently maintain the carriage, the horse, and the coachman, in pursuit of their common aim—the temporary steward.

Meher Baba never used the analogy of the carriage, the horse, and the coachman, nor did He ever use the term temporary steward. The Avatar and Perfect Masters appear to work in a different way than advanced, but still un-realized, individuals. For the Avatar and the Perfect Masters, the personal relationship between them and their followers is the singularly most important thing. The Avatar and Perfect Masters are the manifestation of God—Self—Truth—in human form. They play the role of personal God, as opposed to impersonal God. In other words, they are the manifestation of the very Goal itself that the seeker is seeking.

“To know God, you must become God.”

Therefore, until you become God, you do not experience God, you do not know God, nor do you know or experience the Self.

I have noticed the difference between yoga ashrams and esoteric or spiritual, or religious schools and the places of pilgrimage connected to the Avatar and the Perfect Masters. With regard to the former, the emphasis in always on the efforts of the individual—what is called working on oneself. The ashram or school and the teacher create an opportunity to work on oneself.  But in the presence of a real Master, or at the places of pilgrimage of the Avatar, it is the work of the Master on the follower that is of real importance. The follower merely needs to be there, in that place, and in the presence of the Master. When I am at places like the Meher Center in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, or His pilgrimage center in India, I try to keep myself entertained, open to what may or may not come to me, and basically stay out of the way of His work.

“A moment in the presence of a real Master is worth hundreds of lifetimes of penance, meditation, and yoga or spiritual practice.” – a paraphrase of comments by Meher Baba

Meher Baba was once asked about the yoga He taught. His reply was, “My yoga is you go!”

 

Deconstruction is a technique that is popular in culinary circles these days. A dish that combines multiple ingredients, like a stew or a salad, is served with its ingredients separated—not combined…

The carriage, the horse, the coachman, and the passenger conjointly make-up the illusory self that I (my consciousness) identifies with. Mostly, I am not aware of the separate elements that make-up the stew of my sleep. 

“And he cometh unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and saith unto Peter, What, could ye not watch with me one hour?” – Matthew 26:40

But in those few moments when I remember to try, the elements that comprise the stew of my sleep become, as it were, deconstructed and I, as some kind of consciousness, am able to remain aloof from and observe the ingredients of the carriage, the horse, the driver, and the passenger. I am not saying that in these moments I am awake, it’s more that in those moments I am more aware of my sleep—though this awareness happens within, not without, the dream of creation.

In Carlos Castaneda’s book, Journey to Ixtlan, the teacher gives the student the exercise of finding his hands in his dreams. Of course, the difficulty is remembering the task while in the dream state—some little part of the dreamer has to remember—has to remain awake. Exercises in self-observation is much the same thing, perhaps, it is even exactly the same thing. One must stay awake in the waking state which is, in fact, a dream state.

“Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.” – Children’s nursery rhyme

On one of his visits to America, Meher Baba, on the request of one of his followers, attended a meditation group. I actually listened to an audio recording of the event. At one point, the leader of the group gave the command to meditate. The recording goes silent for a few minutes and then a loud clap by Meher Baba brings the exercise to a close. Meher Baba, his gestures read out by one of his close disciples, tells the group that they are all asleep. He explains that even the exercise of meditation is happening in their dreams—the dreams of their lives—their identification with the bodies and their thoughts.  It’s impossible to describe how powerful listening to that moment on the recording was for me…

So I try to not take the exercise of observing the carriage, the horse, and the driver, too seriously.

“He who takes thing too seriously cannot be very serious; he who is really serious does not take things too seriously.” – Gurdjieff

But why make the effort in the first place? My answer is that I have observed that I am  always doing something— even trying to do nothing is doing something—and that certain actions seem to bring me deeper or more profound happiness than others; and the two domains of action that consistently bring me the most joy are musical thinking and thoughts regarding God and His path. With regard to musical thinking, I feel that my efforts can lead to certain accomplishments within the musical sphere, but with regard to thinking about God and the spiritual panorama my feeling is that the domain is so vast and powerful that my efforts are not so much about the results as the pure joy of making the effort itself.

In The Second Attention, Carlos Castaneda wrote:

“I narrated to her the way Don Juan made me understand what was meant by impeccability. He and I were hiking one day through a very steep ravine when a huge boulder got loose from its matrix on the rock wall and came down with a formidable force and landed on the floor of the canyon, twenty or thirty yards from where we were standing.

The size of the boulder made its fall a very impressive event. Don Juan seized the opportunity to create a dramatic lesson. He said that the force that rules our destinies is outside of ourselves and has nothing to do with our acts or volition. Sometimes that force would make us stop walking on our way and bend over to tie our shoelaces, as I had just done.

And by making us stop, that force makes us gain a precious moment. If we had kept on walking, that enormous boulder would have most certainly crushed us to death. Some other day, however, in another ravine the same outside deciding force would make us stop again to bend over and tie our shoelaces while another boulder would get loose precisely above where we are standing. By making us stop, that force would have made us lose a precious moment. That time if we had kept on walking, we would have saved ourselves. Don Juan said that in view of my total lack of control over the forces which decide my destiny, my only possible freedom in that ravine consisted in my tying my shoelaces impeccably.”

So I make efforts; they’re a way of passing my time while on the train that I am not driving. The efforts, indeed any of my actions, do not affect the train or its destination. What the efforts do seem to affect is the degree of happiness that I experience along the way, and is not the bottom line for all of creation the happiness of the search for Bliss?

 I observe that the carriage is the most easy to control, even though what I am able to control seems to be just an iota of the sum total of all the actions that the carriage performs. For example, though I can make it move or stop, turn or go straight—make a cup of coffee or tea, etc., I have no direct control over the birth and death of the cells that make up the carriage or its functions like digestion, breathing, or the transitions from my waking state to my dream state to the state of deep sleep, etc. At best, I can sometimes indirectly affect these functions, but they are not dependent on my awareness or intent—and thank God for that!  

With regard to the mind, well my thoughts seem to have a mind of their own. They go here and there and everywhere. Efforts to stop or re-direct thoughts are consistently ineffective and there is a glimpse, occasionally and not very clearly, that the domain of the mind is infinitely more vast than the thoughts that I am able to occasionally observe or direct.

And the horse, the domain of energy and feeling, the ability to even approach it directly, let alone control or direct its activity, is predictably impossible.

But in spite of it all, somehow, we will get there—we will come to know ourselves as the the Infinite Self; the train will get to its destination, not because of our efforts,  but in spite of them.

As Rumi reminds us; “Come, come, come, whoever you are, wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving—ours is not a caravan of despair. Though you may have broken your vow a thousand times, come, come yet again, come!” – Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī

“Ayushya, I wanted to tell you about my dream.”

“Of course Mira, please tell me.”

“I have been reading your series of posts on the carriage, the horse, and the driver. I was particularly affected by Meher Baba’s comments to the meditators and your use of the other analogy of the train that takes us to our destination without our help.”

“Indeed.”

“And so the other night I had a dream in which I was driving the carriage—going here and there—and then I realized that the carriage, the horse, and the driver were actually on the train itself. No matter where I drove it, no matter what I did, it was not going anywhere other than to different places on the train.”

“The carriage was on the train?”

“Yes!”

“Did you tell your grandfather this dream?”

“I did, and in response he recited this quote;

‘He returns to the door he first came out, although in his journey he went from door to door.’”

“Indeed!”

“Indeed.”

                                                              (c) copyright Michael Kovitz, 2018

   

"My Name is Legion"

“Then Jesus asked him, ‘What is your name?’
 ‘My name is Legion,’ he replied, ‘for we are many.’ – Mark 5:9

The implication of this statement attributed to Jesus, and supported by those of Gurdjieff, Upasani Maharaj, and Meher Baba, challenge the belief that most of us hold and often relegate to our own personal, what can be called, Domain of the Obvious and Unquestionable, that a man, or a woman, is one—is an individuality—is a singular being with a permanent and unchangeable ‘I’.

But, is this true?

“Thus, in one teaching, man is compared to a house in which there is a multitude of servants, but no master and no steward. The servants have all forgotten their duties; no one wants to do what he ought; everyone tries to be master, if only for a moment; and in this disorder, the house id threatened with grave danger.

“The only chance of salvation is for a group of the more sensible servants to meet together and elect a new ‘temporary’ steward, that is, a ‘deputy steward’. This ‘deputy steward’ can then put the other servants in their places, and make each do their own work: the cook in the kitchen, the coachman in the stables, the gardener in the garden, and so on.

“In this way, the ‘house’ can be got ready for the arrival of the real steward who will, in his tern, prepare it for the arrival of the master.” – Gurdjieff, as quoted by P.D. Ouspensky in his book, In Search of the Miraculous.

Every morning and every evening at Meher Baba’s Tomb Shrine in India three prayers, dictated by Meher Baba, are recited by all in attendance:



Universal Prayer (Master’s Prayer) (Given by Meher Baba on 13 September 1953)

O Parvardigar — the Preserver and Protector of all!
You are without Beginning, and without End,
Non-dual, beyond comparison, and none
can measure You.
You are without color, without expression,
without form, and without attributes.
You are unlimited and unfathomable,
beyond imagination and conception,
eternal and imperishable.
You are indivisible; and none can see You,
but with Eyes Divine.
You always were, You always are, and
You always will be;
You are everywhere, You are in everything;
and You are also beyond everywhere
and beyond everything.
You are in the firmament and in the depths;
You are manifest and unmanifest, on
all planes and beyond all planes.
You are in the three worlds, and also
beyond the three worlds;
You are imperceptible and independent.
You are the Creator, the Lord of lords,
the knower of all minds and hearts;
You are omnipotent and omnipresent.
You are Knowledge Infinite, Power Infinite,
and Bliss Infinite.
You are the Ocean of Knowledge, all-knowing,
infinitely knowing, the Knower of the past,
the present, and the future, and You are
Knowledge Itself.
You are all-merciful and eternally benevolent;
You are the Soul of souls, the One with
infinite attributes.
You are the Trinity of Truth, knowledge, and
Bliss,
You are the Source of Truth, the Ocean of Love;
You are the Ancient One, the Highest of the High;
You are Prabhu and Parameshwar, You are the
Beyond-God, and the Beyond-Beyond God also,
You are Parabrahma, Allah, Elahi, Yezdan,
Ahuramazda, and God the Beloved.
You are named Ezad — the only One
worthy of worship.

Prayer of Repentance (Given by Meher Baba on 8 November 1952)

We repent O God most merciful, for all our sins;
For every thought that was false or unjust or unclean;
For every word spoken that ought not to have been spoken;
For every deed done that ought not to have been done.
We repent for every deed and word and thought
Inspired by selfishness;
And for every deed and word and thought inspired by hatred.
We repent most specially for every lustful thought,
And every lustful action;
For every lie; for all hypocrisy;
For every promise given, but not fulfilled;
And for all slander and backbiting.
Most specially also, we repent for every action
That has brought ruin to others;
For every word and deed that has given others pain;
And for every wish that pain should befall others.
In your unbounded mercy, we ask you to forgive us, O God,
For all these sins committed by us;
And to forgive us for our constant failures
To think and speak and act according to your will.

Beloved God (Given by Meher Baba, 25th August 1959)  

Beloved God, help us all to love You more and more, and more and more and still yet more, till we become worthy of union with You; and help us all to hold fast to Baba’s daaman (garment) till the very end.

I have always been struck by the fact that in all three of these prayers, there is no use of the word ‘I.’ 

The Parvardigar Prayer is addressed to God in all His states and stages.

The Prayer of Repentance is spoken to God by us. But there is no mention of me. It is not, I repent..., but, “We repent…

And then again, in the Beloved God Prayer, a prayer that by Meher Baba’s own declaration was for His lovers and followers, notice that it says, “Help us all…,” not help me…

Who is/are the us? Who is/are the we?  Where is the I?

“Then Jesus asked him, ‘What is your name?’

‘My name is Legion,’ he replied, ‘for we are many.’ – Mark 5:9

Of course it can be argued that the “I am Legion” quote should not be taken literally. After all, the so-called, Biblical Times, favored the use of such literary devices as parables and metaphors,  and it can be argued that the man who called himself Legion was not a “normal man”, but an exception—a madman— or as some say these days, a person with multiple personality disorder.

“Night and day among the tombs and in the hills he would cry out and cut himself with stones.” – Mark 5:5



“He shouted at the top of his voice, ‘What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In God's name don't torture me!’” – Mark 5:7

But for those who are familiar with Meher Baba, the description of the man who called himself Legion appears quite consistent with a type of advanced soul that Meher Baba identified as masts. A mast is a God-intoxicated soul who has little or no gross consciousness of the gross world or his, or her, own physical body, often is indistinguishable from an ordinary madman, and sometimes was reticent to allow Meher Baba’s contact.

Listen to this description of a mast from, The Wayfarers, a book by William Donkin that catalogs Meher Baba’s contacts with masts and spiritually advanced souls:

 “(This man was) a high mast of the fifth plane; who stays in the cremation ground. He looks very fierce, with big eyes shining like fire, and has the fierce temperament of a jalali type of mast. He has with him ten to twelve dogs, but to those who dare to come near him, he says, ‘ Meherban,’ meaning gracious friend.”

Could the man who called himself Legion have been a mast or an advanced soul who was aware of that which lay beyond the gross physical world? Such an individual could literally see the legion of souls inhabiting his body and mind. Perhaps, the fact that he was a legion of many ‘I’s) was not as unique as the fact that he was aware of them?

The second example I cited was the absence of the personal pronouns I and me in the three prayers dictated by Meher Baba. Once more, this omission certainly can be interpreted as something other than the lack of real I in man that was suggested by Gurdjieff.

I do still wonder, however, because the Masters have always been very consistent in asserting that once one has a real connection with the Avatar or a Perfect Master, that individual’s destiny is fulfilled and all that remains is for the Master to facilitate the removal of the residual sanskaras that continue to veil the disciple’s experience of Infinite Bliss. So, if the disciple has already been accepted by the Master—is with the Master—then who is it that is bowing down to Him?

As for me,  I have always had the feeling that when one bows down in Meher Baba’s tomb the disciple’s physical body is the vehicle through which all of the disciple’s relations—parents, grandparents, children—past and present—can themselves physically bow down to Meher Baba and attain the wondrous gift of His physical presence.

Have any of the Perfect Masters spoken directly about the lack of unity, the lack of I in man?

The answer is yes. Here, Upasani-Baba Maharaj explains the illusion of oneness in Man. In my opinion, His statements leave no doubt that He is speaking literally and not in parables or allegories.

For those not familiar with some of the terms, I offer the following:

Jiva, or Jiv-Atma, refers to the embodiment of the consciousness of the soul, with its attendant gross, subtle and mental bodies.

“Jiv-Atma—that pure celestial soul identified with the projections of the mind,” – Upasani Maharaj 

Buddhi, in this talk, can be taken to be intellect—that which thinks.

Ahamkara is pride—pride in the sense of how one identifies—experiences— oneself as being anything other than God. It is the force of takes one to be.

“Within the human body there are so many other bodies, so many Jivas, and so many types of Ahamkaras; between them they react mutually, sometimes in a friendly manner and sometimes in an unfriendly manner. Now what are these other bodies, Jivas, and Ahamkaras? With whatever beings we form stable associations, their Jivas and there forms enter and occupy our mind.

“There are many a Jiva who has thus lodged themselves within us for lifetimes on end; and, according to their natures, friendly or unfriendly, they affect our Jiva—and so, we have to take to that type of Ahamkara and act and behave accordingly.

“Think of a huge mirror; if hundreds stand in front of it, all of them, in a mass are reflected in that one mirror. To begin with, it was a clean mirror, but now it becomes full of those reflected in it, and with all that reflected mass, its clear appearance disappears.

“In the same way, our state began as clear, unsullied, and pure, but as our association with other Jivas occurs, those Jivas begin to accumulate within us, and we become like the mirror reflecting the hundreds who stand in front of it; and due to these associations we seem to have spoiled our original, real, pure, clean state.

“Like the mirror that forgets its original clear state because of the reflected mass within it, we also begin to identify ourselves with all those Jivas that associate with ourselves. That is why we do not remember our original state, nor are we able to experience it. This means that this body of ours is not really one’s own, but a place to accommodate all others who are related to us.

“In other words, our body and mind are nothing but a store-house to accommodate all the good and bad relatives and associates, the friends and foes, various desires with their and the corresponding Ahamkaras pertaining to them.” – The Talks of Sadguru Upasani-Baba Maharaj, Volume II, Part B. pages 692-693

So, the fair question would be; “If this is so, what can be done? What can one do for oneself when there is no one to do it?”

Earlier, I quoted Gurdjieff. In his unique way he explained it this way:

“Thus, in one teaching, man is compared to a house in which there is a multitude of servants, but no master and no steward. The servants have all forgotten their duties; no one wants to do what he ought; everyone tries to be master, if only for a moment; and in this disorder, the house id threatened with grave danger.
“The only chance of salvation is for a group of the more sensible servants to meet together and elect a new ‘temporary’ steward, that is, a ‘deputy steward’. This ‘deputy steward’ can then put the other servants in their places, and make each do their own work: the cook in the kitchen, the coachman in the stables, the gardener in the garden, and so on.
“In this way, the ‘house’ can be got ready for the arrival of the real steward who will, in his tern, prepare it for the arrival of the master.” – Gurdjieff, as quoted by P.D. Ouspensky in his book, In Search of the Miraculous.

A friend of mine became an Amoco Oil junior vice-president while still in her twenties. I once asked her what was the secret of her success. Her simple reply was, “Always do what you say you’re going to do, and always be on time.”

Why is this simple advice sometimes so difficult to follow?  And why is it not so obvious that it even needs to be stated at all?

“Thus, in one teaching, man is compared to a house in which there is a multitude of servants, but no master and no steward. The servants have all forgotten their duties; no one wants to do what he ought; everyone tries to be master, if only for a moment; and in this disorder, the house id threatened with grave danger.” – Gurdjieff, as quoted by P.D. Ouspensky in his book, In Search of the Miraculous.

“Then Jesus asked him, ‘What is your name?’ ‘My name is Legion,’ he replied, ‘for we are many.’” – Mark 5:9

If a  man is a legion; if a man is a house in disorder; then if one ‘I’ makes a promise that another ‘I’  needs to fulfill,  so-called, continuity of thought and word and deed is not, and cannot, be assured or taken for granted. One ‘I’ often does not necessarily know, or care, what another ‘I ‘considers important.

Gurdjieff used the term disorder to describe the house of a man, but this disorder, though it can create chaos, is, in itself, law-conformable and not chaotic.

 In fact, it can be observed that all actions, whether physical, mental, or emotional, are guided by an all-pervasive law of movement and deflection.

Consider a tree; from the trunk extend limbs, from the limbs branches, from the branches, smaller twigs. Look at the human form; does it not seem to conform to the same law?  From the torso extend legs and arms. The segments of both become smaller; the segments of both have the capacity to bend and move in different directions.

Perhaps an old servant remembers the days when the house was in in order; perhaps a curious servant hears about the happiness inherent in a house in order; perhaps a servant who feels miserable begins to ask the question, “Why am I not happy?” Cause and effect are always in play, but other forces, higher forces, are also in play, and perhaps, for no reason at all, a house in disorder falls under the compassionate gaze of a Master. One way or another, ultimately, disorder gives way to order—suffering bows to bliss. One way or another,

“A group of the more sensible servants meet together and elect a new ‘temporary’ steward, that is, a ‘deputy steward’. This ‘deputy steward’ can then put the other servants in their places, and make each do their own work: the cook in the kitchen, the coachman in the stables, the gardener in the garden, and so on.

“In this way, the ‘house’ can be got ready for the arrival of the real steward who will, in his tern, prepare it for the arrival of the master.” – Gurdjieff, as quoted by P.D. Ouspensky in his book, In Search of the Miraculous.


We say that a person becomes interested in God, or the Path, or a possibility of some higher consciousness. Maybe they begin to read philosophical books, spiritual books, and their interest grows. Perhaps Gurdjieff would say that an ‘I’, or a small group of I’s, have become interested, but the majority of the person’s ‘I’s’, don’t know or share the other ‘I’’s interest. So the person continues to lead his or her life as he or she has always led it. Yet, something has changed, something has subtlety changed, but like a seed growing below the ground, no evidence appears above the ground.

Over time, however, the ‘I’ or ‘I’s’ interested in the new possibilities become increasingly agitated. The seed has sprouted and begins to long for the light, and the person enters the stage called sitting between two chairs. Sitting between two chairs is uncomfortable; one cannot relax; one cannot sleep as deeply…

A deputy steward is appointed from the interested group of ‘I’s’. His or her job is to get all of the I’s to work for a common cause—a common happiness—a more real happiness. What is it that Gurdjieff said, “Life is real only then when I am.” –  also, the title of his third book, Life is Real only then when I am

When the time is right, the steward, who has a deeper knowledge and experience of the path, appears and begins to direct the functioning of the house in such a way as to attract the master—the master is the real owner of the house.

“When his time has come, the prey finds the hunter.” – Old Persian saying

But these days, in the Age of Kali, when the shadow appears to be larger than the sun, such work is very difficult—meets with much resistance.

“These days, nobody has his own reasoning to work with. The reasoning has become like a blind man and a blind man has to be led by somebody else. These days, people are seen to behave according to others reasoning and faith; it only proves that their reason has been suppressed or destroyed by others reasoning and faith. The consciousness—the existence of one’s own reasoning and faith has disappeared…

“To get out of this situation in every way and to attain the original state of Sat-Chit-Ananda (Knowledge-Power-Bliss); there are two chief methods:

“One is faithful behavior and mode of life for the Brahmana class, and the other is to closely associate with God in the form of the One who has attained full liberation. This is where comes the importance of sticking to a Satpurusha (God-Realized being); because He is the One who has realized Himself.” – The Talks of Sadguru Upasani-Baba Maharaj, Volume II, Part B. pages 694-695

What is Upasani Maharaj saying here? What is the significance of the Brahmana class?  He is, of course, directing this remark to His Hindu followers. The Brahmanas are those individuals who can rightfully guide individual consciousness towards the Goal. But to do this, they have to remain very pure in their practice and in their lives. Only then, can are they part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

But this is the Kali Yuga, and the Brahmana class does not always function as it should. The path more certain is the path of love—love for God—love for a God Realized being—and most of all, love for the Avatar. And this path, The Path of Love, is available to all.

“I am equally approachable to one and all, big and small;  to saints who rise and sinners who fall, through all the various paths that give the Divine Call." -Avatar Meher Baba

“The construction of a new ego which is entirely subservient to the Master is indispensable to the dynamics of spiritual advancement.” – Discourses of Meher Baba

 Are you ready? The seed cannot be forced to sprout; the sprout cannot be forced to leaf; the leaf cannot be forced to bud, or the bud to flower, or the flower to seed.

Meher Baba said, “Don’t worry, be happy!” When an ordinary person says, “don’t worry.’” It is a suggestion or a reminder, but when God in human form say be, it is! It is assured, like the river is certain to merge in the sea!