We’ve been looking at teachers of Enlightenment over the past week or so, not without some controversy I have to say. In particular, the mention of Andrew Cohen has brought correspondence and comments pointing to criticism by some of his students.
The wider question, though, is why is it so difficult to be a spiritual teacher? I think there are two reasons:
1. People get fixated on descriptions and methods.
2. The mutual exclusivity of perception/conception and space consciousness (nirvanoception).
If you saw the recent BBC/Scorcese documentary on Bob Dylan you’ll understand some of the theological rage arising from the first point. Back in the 1960s when the folk singer switched from solo acoustic guitar to an electric band he was so vilified you’d think he had committed a crime against humanity. I used the word “theological” deliberately, because many “fans” saw it as apostacy and betrayal.
What business is it of ours if a singer decides to change his style? Dylan was ostracized and even “defrocked” by his supporting fraternity. Folk music had become a religion rather than a source of spiritual comfort.
When Andrew Cohen left behind the simplicity of his Hindu guru and developed a very Western style involving science and philosophy, a similar reaction appears to have happened.
Point 2 takes us beyond this world of perception (of the senses) and conception (of the thoughts) to what I call “nirvanoception”, or space consciousness. Nirvanic experience (and it is an experience, but not by the body-mind) involves a separation from the body and thought processes (brain and central nervous system). Space consciousness “sees” this world, but as a shadowy, insubstantial thing within a much larger consciousness (see post on Nirvanic experiences).
The observing entity is aware of the body and the chattering thoughts, but only as another object within an almost diaphanous world. The word “I” doesn’t apply anymore.
Back in normal human consciousness the nirvanic realm seems scarcely real either, compared to the concrete “reality” all around. But we now know that it’s underpinned by a much larger consciousness.
Nevertheless, we get dragged back into this world’s petty affairs in which the type of guitar a singer chooses to play is an all-pervading issue of great importance.
That is the problem faced by all spiritual teachers who have direct knowledge of space consciousness, but are confronted with their own all too human bodies and impulses as well as a hazy recollection of their “enlightenment”. It’s all too easy to dismiss this world, and that of their students, and insist on a strict compliance with their prescriptions. When those fail, as they do, and the student becomes restless, it’s easy to demand greater discipline and obedience. The guru/chela relationship, however, doesn’t work with Westerners because of an inbuilt scepticism and resistance derived from our technological culture.
It’s an old problem. Maybe the teacher shouldn’t take all the blame? Perhaps students are fixating on, and freeze-framing, an idea about Enlightenment which establishes it firmly in this world, in perception and conception.
Maybe the teacher gets frustrated too.
