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Where the Heart Is

Ananya Sri Ram – USA

Theosophy AR 2

Included in HPB’s Collected Writings, Vol. VIII is a small essay titled “A Heart-Space of Silence.” For those who are not familiar with it, the authorship is uncertain despite it being in HPB’s papers. The essay follows with edits made for grammar and to neutralize gender. It begins:

In the hours of silent meditation, the student will find that there is one space of silence within where they can find refuge from thoughts and desires, from the turmoil of the senses and the delusions of the mind. By sinking one’s consciousness deep into one’s heart we can reach this place—at first only when we are alone in silence and darkness. But when the need for silence has grown great enough, we will turn to seek it even in the midst of the struggle with self, and we will find it. Only we must not let go of our outer self, or body; we must learn to retire into this citadel when the battle grows fierce, but to do so without losing sight of the battle; without allowing oneself to fancy that by so doing we have won the victory. That victory is won only when all is silence without as within the inner citadel.

These few lines are timeless. How many of us find ourselves swept up in the emotional rhetoric of the news? At times not even conscious of it, we become flustered, angry, or even fearful. Our emotions gear up for battle to defend our beliefs or what we feel is right. This happens to many despite having meditated or followed a spiritual practice for years. Our desires and emotions overpower the gentler, calmer side of our being. Yet, according to the above paragraph, by “sinking one’s consciousness deep into one’s heart” we can reach a place of refuge within. Such an act seems daunting. As James Finely writes in Merton’s Palace of Nowhere, “to sink is to vanish. To sink into the unknown depths of God’s call to union. . . is to lose all that the false self knows and cherishes.” Little do we realize that the daily struggles of the heart are the false self at play. The true heart of being is always in union with the Divine.

The next paragraph gives us a little more guidance:

The powers of heaven are within us, the nature of intelligence which guide the world-force is blended with our own, and could we realize this and forget our outer selves, the very winds would be our instruments.

Here we see where we have gone astray. We have fallen into the illusion of the material world, separating ourselves from that which abides in the eternal. Lost in the quagmire, we have forgotten that we are so much more than the distorted thoughts, the rolling emotions, and the physical disturbances. What reacts within us is a product of a world created by the human mind with the same energies and manifestations.

The essay goes to say that if we can change our attitude within and act on the faith that the body, desires, passions, and brain are not who we are---though we control and are responsible for them—if we try to “deal with them as parts of nature,” we may “reach a place of safe self-forgetfulness at last.” This is the key to finding the citadel to which we can retire “when the battle grows fierce.”

This unique essay can be read at many levels. The battle referred to is always internal as it is where we live and move and have our being. No matter what may be happening in the outside world, how we choose to respond to it, lies within. The question is: who holds the reins of the wild horses of emotions? Who is in control of the words which live on one’s lips or the actions that beckon to one’s hands?

Finely quotes Johannes B. Metz to help clarify our deepest reality stating that if we focus on our “naked poverty, when the masks fall away and the core of [our] Being is revealed, it soon becomes obvious that [we are] religious “by nature,” that religion is the secret dowry of [our] being.” This brings to mind Augustine’s quote, “You made our hearts in thee, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in thee.” There is something we are connected to, somewhere we can find solace, something within us that longs to be reunited with that which seeks us out “when we are alone in silence and darkness.” Are we willing to allow ourselves the opportunity of being alone in such a state? Or do we feel the constant need for contact and stimulation? If so, perhaps we need to ask ourselves why and what it is we are trying to avoid. What are our masks hiding?

Our false self finds its way into our lives insidiously. We don’t even recognize that we are doing and saying things without awareness. I remember once being asked by my aunt “Are you saying something to just say something?” While the question seems harsh, it is a question we should all ask ourselves. We often hide behind the buzz of words and chatter or pleasantries with others to fill “the void of silence” instead of allowing ourselves the gift of familiarity with it. Until we are familiar with silence and its many nuances, we tend to look at it as something that is empty, unappealing, and needing to be filled. And yet, we come into being in silence and leave this life in silence. Nature evolves in silence and we are no different. It is really not as foreign to us as we believe it to be. As I have stated elsewhere, under humanity’s hum of minutiae is silence. We just need to find it.

One spiritual practice which may help us move from the inner cacophony to inner silence is vairāgya. Vairāgya can be translated as dispassion, detachment, or indifference. This does not mean one is encouraged to have no sympathy or compassion for the suffering in the world. Nor does it mean we refuse to take a stand when needed. It is to serve for the sake of service alone. It is the ability to soften the strong structures and barriers we create mentally and emotionally of how things should be. When looked at objectively, what we find irritating, annoying, pleasurable, and satisfying are things that we dislike or like, respectively, according to our own desires. We often feel that what is right, is right for everyone; completely forgetting that we each have different experiences and conditionings that give us a unique way of looking at the world.

When the passions of right/wrong, like/dislike, and so on are loosened, one may find they are not only calmer, but have more vital energy. So much of our everyday life can be spent worrying about the reactions of others or getting reactive over events happening around us. Detachment from the push and pull of emotions, allows silence to rise to the surface and slowly begin grow. In the midst of a personal struggle, silence is forever there to hold and guide us. Once we come to embrace it, It shares with us Nature’s secrets and reveals to us an even deeper silence that resides in the heart of the Divine, bringing us home.