Macrocosm and Microcosm
GA 119
23 March 1910, Vienna
3. The Inner Path Followed by the Mystic. Experience the Cycle of the Year
To obviate any possible misunderstanding, I want to emphasise that the aim of yesterday's lecture was not that of proving anything in particular but merely to point out that certain observations led spiritual investigators of bygone times to designate by similar names certain processes and objects in space and certain processes and happenings in our own daily and nightly experiences. The main purpose of the lecture was to introduce concepts that will be required in our further studies. The lectures given in this Course must be regarded as a whole, and the early lectures are in the widest sense intended to assemble the ideas and conceptions needed for the knowledge of the spiritual worlds that is to be communicated in those that come later. Today, too, we shall take our start from familiar experiences and pass on gradually to more remote realms of spirit.
We have heard in previous lectures that in respect of his inner being, in respect, that is to say, of his astral body and Ego, man lives during the sleeping state in a spiritual world and on waking returns into his physical and etheric bodies. It will be evident to anyone who observes life that when this transition from the sleeping to the waking state takes place, there is a complete change of experience. What we experience in the waking state denotes no actual perception or knowledge of the two members of our being into which we descend on waking. We come down into our etheric and physical bodies but have no experience of them from within.
What does a man know in ordinary life about the aspects presented by his physical and etheric bodies when seen from within? The essential fact of experience in the waking state is that we view our own being in the physical world from without, not from within. We view our physical body from outside with the same eyes with which we look at the rest of the world. During waking life we never contemplate our own being from within, but always from without. We really learn to know ourselves as men only from outside, regarding ourselves as beings of the sense-world.
There is, of course, an actual state of transition from sleeping to waking life. How, then, would it be if we were really able, on descending into our etheric and physical bodies, to contemplate ourselves from within? We should see something quite different from what we see in the ordinary way: we should know the intimate experiences sought by the mystic. The mystic endeavours to divert his attention entirely from the outer world, to shut out the impressions invading his eyes and other senses and to penetrate into his inmost being. But leaving aside experiences of this kind, we can say that in daily life we are protected from the sight of our inner being, for at the moment of waking our gaze is diverted to the external world around us, to the tapestry presented by the senses—the tapestry of which our physical body, when observed during waking life, is a part. Thus in the waking state the possibility of observing ourselves from within, eludes us. It is as though we had been led unknowingly across a stream: while we sleep we are on this side of the stream, when we are awake, on yonder side. If we were capable of perceiving anything from “this side”, we should be able to perceive our Ego and our astral body as we perceive outer objects in waking life; but again we are protected from perceiving our own inner being in sleep, for at the moment of going to sleep the possibility of perceiving ceases and consciousness is extinguished.
Thus between our inner and our outer world a definite boundary is drawn, a boundary which we can cross only at the moments of going to sleep and waking. But we can never cross this boundary without being deprived of something.
When we cross the boundary on going to sleep, consciousness ceases and we cannot see the spiritual world. On waking, our consciousness is at once diverted to the outer world and we are unable to perceive the spiritual reality underlying our own being. The boundary that we cross, the boundary that causes the spiritual world to be darkened at the moment of waking is something that interpolates itself between our Sentient Soul and our etheric and physical bodies. The veil that covers these two members on waking, the veil that prevents us from beholding the spiritual reality underlying them, is the Sentient Body, which enables us to see the tapestry presented by the outer world. At the moment of waking the Sentient Body is wholly concerned with the outer world of the senses and we cannot look within our own being. This body, therefore, constitutes a frontier between our life of inner experience and what spiritually underlies the world of the senses.
We shall realise that this is necessary, for what a man would see if he were to cross this stream consciously is something that must be hidden from him in the course of his normal life, because he could not endure it; he needs to be prepared for the experience. Mystical development does not really consist in penetrating by force into the inner world of the physical and etheric bodies, but in first making oneself fit for the experience and passing through it consciously.
What would happen to a man who were to descend unprepared into his own inner being? On waking, instead of seeing an external world, he would enter into his own inner world, into that which spiritually underlies his physical and etheric bodies. In his soul he would experience a feeling of tremendous intensity, known to him in ordinary life in a very faint and weakened form only. That is what would come over a man if he were able, on waking from sleep, to descend into his own inner being. An analogy—without attempting to prove anything—will help you to have an idea of this feeling.
There is in man what is called the sense of Shame, the essence of which is that in his soul he wants to divert the attention of others from the thing or quality of which he is ashamed. This sense of shame in connection with something he does not want to be revealed is a faint indication of the feeling which would be intensified to overpowering strength if he were to look consciously into his own inner being. This feeling would take possession of the soul with such power that it would seem to be diffused over everything encountered in the external world; the man would undergo an experience comparable with that of being consumed by fire. Such would be the effect produced by this feeling of shame.
Why should it have this effect? Because at that moment a man would become aware of the perfection of his physical and etheric bodies compared with what he is as a being of soul. It is also possible to form an idea of this by ordinary reasoning. Anyone who with the help of physical science makes a purely external study of the marvelous structure of the human heart or brain, or of each single part of the human skeleton, will be able to feel how infinitely wise and perfect is the arrangement and organisation of the physical body. By taking one single bone, for example the hip bone, which combines the utmost carrying capacity with the least expenditure of effort, or by contemplating the marvelous structure of the heart or brain, it is possible to have an inkling of what would be experienced if one were to behold the wisdom by which this structure was produced and were then to compare with this what man is as a being of soul in respect of passions or desires! All through his life he is engaged in ruining this wonderful physical organism by yielding to his desires, urges, passions and various forms of enjoyment. Activity destructive to the wonderful structure of the physical heart or brain can be observed everywhere in life. All this would come vividly before a man's soul if he were to descend consciously into his etheric and physical bodies. And the soul's imperfection compared with the perfect structure of the sheaths would have an overwhelmingly paralysing effect upon him if he were able to compare what is in his soul with what the wise guidance of the universe has made of his physical and etheric bodies. He is therefore protected from descending into them consciously and is deflected, on waking, by the tapestry of the sense-world outspread around him; he cannot look into his inmost being.
It is the comparison of the soul with what it would perceive if it had sight of what spiritually underlies the physical and etheric bodies that would evoke the intense feeling of shame; preparation for this is made in advance through all the experiences undergone by the mystic before he becomes capable of penetrating into his inmost being. To realise for himself the imperfection of his soul, to realise that his soul is weak, insignificant, and has still an infinitely long path to travel, is bound to arouse a feeling of humility and a yearning for perfection, and these qualities prepare him to endure the comparison with the infinitely wise structure into which he penetrates on waking. Otherwise he would be consumed by shame as if by fire.
The mystic prepares himself by concentrating on the following thoughts: “When I behold what I am and compare it with what the wise guidance of the universe has made of me, the shame I feel is like a consuming fire.” This feeling gives rise outwardly to the flush of shame. This feeling would intensify to such an extent as to become a scorching fire in the soul if the mystic has not the strength to say to himself: “Yes, I feel utterly paltry in comparison with what I may become, but I shall try to develop the strength that will make me capable of understanding what the wisdom of the universe has built into my bodily nature and to make myself spiritually worthy of it.” The mystic is made to realise by his spiritual teacher that he must have boundless humility. It may be said to him: Look at a plant. A plant is rooted in the soil. The soil makes available to the plant a kingdom lower than itself but without which it cannot exist. The plant can bow to the mineral kingdom, saying: I owe my existence to this lower kingdom out of which I have grown. The animal too owes its existence to the plant kingdom and if it were conscious of its place in the world would in humility acknowledge its indebtedness to the lower kingdom. And man, having reached a certain height, should say: I could not have attained this stage had not everything below me evolved correspondingly.
When a man cultivates such feelings in his soul, the realisation comes to him that he has reason not only to look upwards but to look downwards with thankfulness to the kingdoms below him. The soul is then filled with this feeling of humility and realises how infinitely long is the path that leads towards perfection. Such is the training for true humility.
What has been described above cannot of course be exhausted by concepts and ideas; if that were the case the mystic would soon have mastered it. It must be experienced, and only one who experiences such feelings over and over again can imbue his soul with the attitude and mood necessary for the mystic.
Then, secondly, the would-be mystic must develop another feeling which makes him capable of enduring whatever obstacles may lie in his path as he strives towards perfection. He must develop a feeling of resignation in respect of whatever ordeals he will have to endure in order to reach a certain stage of development. Only by proving himself victorious over pain and suffering for a long, long time can he develop the strong powers needed by his soul to overcome the inevitable sense of inferiority in face of what a wise World-Order has incorporated in the etheric and physical bodies. The soul must say to itself over and over again: ‘Whatever pain and suffering still await me, I will not waver; for if I were willing to experience only what brings joy, I should never develop the strength of which my soul is actually capable.’ Strength is developed only by overcoming obstacles, not by simply submitting to conditions as they are. Forces of soul can be steeled only when a man is ready to bear pain and suffering with resignation. This strength must be developed in the soul of the mystic if he is to become fit to descend into his inner being.
Let nobody imagine that Spiritual Science demands that a man living an ordinary, everyday life shall undergo such exercises for they are beyond his power. What is being described here is simply a narration of what those who voluntarily embark upon such experiences can make of the soul, that is to say, they can make the soul capable of penetrating into their own inmost being. In the course of normal life, however, the Sentient Body intervenes between what it is possible for the mystic to experience inwardly and what is actually experienced in the external world. That is what protects a man from descending into his own inner self without preparation and being consumed by a feeling of shame. In the normal course of life a man cannot experience what is thus screened from him by the Sentient Body, for there he has already reached the frontier of the spiritual world. A spiritual investigator seeking to explore the inner nature of man must cross this frontier; he must cross the stream which diverts normal human consciousness from the inner to the outer world. This normal consciousness, while insufficiently mature, is protected from penetrating into man's inner self, protected from being consumed in the fire of shame. Man cannot see the Power which protects him from this experience every morning on waking. This Power is the first spiritual Being encountered by one who is about to pass into the spiritual world. He must pass this Being who protects him from being consumed by the inner sense of shame; he must pass this Being who deflects his inward-turned gaze to the external word, to the tapestry of sense-phenomena. Normal consciousness becomes aware of the effect of this Being, but man cannot see him. He is the first Being who must be passed by one who desires to penetrate into the spiritual world. This spiritual Being who every morning stands before man and protects him while he is still immature from sight of his own inner self, is called in Spiritual Science, the Lesser Guardian of the Threshold. The path into the spiritual world leads past this Being.
Our consciousness has thus been directed to the frontier where we can dimly divine the existence of the Being known to the spiritual investigator as the Lesser Guardian of the Threshold. Here already is an indication that in waking life we do not see our true being at all. And if we call our own being the Microcosm, we must add that we never see the Microcosm in its pure, spiritual form, but only the part that our own being reveals in the normal state. Just as when a man looks in a mirror he sees an image, a picture, and not himself, so in waking consciousness we do not see the Microcosm itself but a reflected image of it. We see the Microcosm in its mirror image.
Do we ever see the Macrocosm in its reality? Again we can take our start from familiar experiences, leaving aside for the moment what a man undergoes in the course of the twenty-four hours of the day. We will think of the very simplest experiences that come to a man in the outer world of the senses. In that world he perceives an alternation between day and night-how the Sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening; he perceives how the sunlight illumines all the objects around him. What is it, then, that man sees from sunrise until sunset? Fundamentally speaking he does not see the objects themselves at all, but the sunlight which they reflect. In the dark we cannot see an object without illumination. Let us take the eye as representative of the other senses. What we see during the day are, in reality, the reflected rays of the Sun. This is how things are from morning until evening. But man has only a very imperfect perception of the cause which enables him to see objects in the outer world at all. If we look at the Sun directly, our eyes are dazzled. The very cause to which we owe the faculty of perceiving the outer sense-world, dazzles us. Thus during the day it is the same with the Sun outside as it is on waking with our own inner self. The forces within ourselves enable us to live and to perceive the outer world, but our attention is diverted from our own inner being to the outer world. It is the same with the Sun; it enables us to perceive objects but dazzles us when we attempt to look at it. Nor during the day can we perceive everything that is connected with the Sun. We see what the Earth reveals to us in the reflected sunlight.
Our solar system is composed not only of the Sun but also of the planets. By day the sight of them is denied us; the Sun dazzles our vision not only of itself but also of the planets. We look out into space knowing that although the planets are there, they evade our observation. Just as by day we are prevented from seeing our own inner self and by night the sight of the spiritual world is denied us in ordinary sleep, so, by day, when our gaze is directed outwards, the causes of our sense-perceptions are hidden from us. What lies behind the Sun and connects it with the other bodies belonging to the solar system, with the Beings whose outer manifestations we call Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and so on—whatever living co-operation there is between the Sun and these heavenly bodies is hidden from us by day. What we perceive is the effect of the sunlight. When we compare this state with the state in which the world around us exists by night, from sunset to dawn, we can perceive in a certain way what belongs to our solar system. We can look up to the starry heavens and among other stars behold the planets at times when they are visible; but while we can see them in the night sky, the Sun itself is invisible. We must therefore say what by day makes the sense-world visible to us, by night takes from us the possibility of seeing it. At night the whole of the sense-world is invisible.
Is it possible to discover, in connection with the nocturnal state, something analogous to the State of the mystic when he descends into his own inner world? In the modern age there is little consciousness of this analogous state, but there is something of the kind. It consists in the fact that, like the mystic, a man develops certain qualities of humility and resignation and other feelings too, the nature of which we can grasp by picturing the simplest of them. Man has these feelings in normal life-in a weak form, like the sense of shame, but nevertheless he has them. By enormously enhancing these feelings he prepares himself to have experiences by night which differ entirely from those of normal consciousness.
We all know that our feelings in spring are different from those we have in the autumn. When buds are bursting in spring and giving promise of the beauty and splendour of summer, the feelings of a healthy soul will not be the same as they are in autumn; with the approach of spring we feel the awakening of hope. The feeling is only slightly developed in an ordinary, normal man, but it is present, nevertheless. Towards autumn, the mood of hope and awakening connected with spring will be transformed into one of sadness, of melancholy; when we see the leaves falling, when we see bare, skeleton-like branches instead of the bright flowering shrubs of summer, our souls are steeped in melancholy; there is sadness in our hearts. In the course of the year, if we move in step with the phenomena of outer Nature, we can experience a cycle in our life of soul. But as these feelings are faint and feeble in normal life, man's sensibility to the transformations that take place from spring to summer and autumn and from autumn to winter is only slight.
Once upon a time—and it is still so today—a pupil of spiritual knowledge who was to take the opposite path to that of the mystic was trained in such feelings; in contrast to the mystic's descent into his own inner being, he was taught to live with the cycle of outer Nature. He learnt to feel with great intensity, no longer faintly as in ordinary life, the awakening of Nature and the sprouting of vegetation in spring; then, when he was able to surrender himself wholly to this experience, the feeling of dawning hope in spring became one of joyful exultation in summer. He was trained to have this experience of exultation. And again, when a man was so far advanced as to experience in complete self-forgetfulness the melancholy of autumn, he could pass on to experience a feeling of winter, intensified into a feeling of the death of all Nature at midwinter.
Such were the feelings awakened in the pupils who had undergone training in the old Northern Mysteries, of which only the external side is still known and that merely as tradition. The pupils were trained by special methods to accompany in their own life of feeling the cycle of Nature throughout the year. All the experiences which came to these pupils, for example on Midsummer Night, were indications of the crescendo of hope to exultation shared with Nature. The festival of Midsummer Night was intended to portray the enhancement of the feeling of awakening in spring to that of joyous exultation in the superabundant life of summer. And at the winter solstice the pupil learnt to experience—as an infinitely enhanced feeling of autumn—the decline and death of Nature.
Such feelings can hardly be felt with equal strength by a man today. As a result of the progress of his intellectual life during recent centuries, present-day man has become incapable of undergoing the intense, overpowering experiences which the best representatives of the original peoples of Middle, Northern and Western Europe were able to endure.
Having undergone such training, the pupils who had thus intensified their inner experiences found themselves possessed of a particular faculty—however strange this may sound—the faculty of seeing through matter, just as the mystic is able to penetrate into his own inner self. They were able to see not merely surfaces of objects but they were able to gee through the objects, and above all, through the Earth.
This experience was called in the ancient Mysteries: seeing the Sun at Midnight. The Sun could be seen in its greatest splendour and glory only at the time of the winter solstice, when the whole external sense-world had so to speak died away. The pupils of the Mysteries had developed the faculty of seeing the Sun no longer as the dazzling power it is by day, but with all its dazzling brilliance eliminated. They saw the Sun, not as a physical but as a spiritual reality, and they beheld the Sun Spirit. The physical effect of dazzling was extinguished by the Earth's substance, for this had become transparent and allowed only the Sun's spiritual forces to pass through. But something else of great significance was connected with this beholding of the Sun. The fact of which only an abstract indication was given yesterday, was then revealed in all its truth, namely, that there is a living interplay between the planets and the Sun inasmuch as streams flow continually to and fro—from the planets to the Sun and from the Sun to the planets. Something was revealed spiritually that may be compared with the circulation of the blood in the human body. As the blood flows in living circulation from the heart to the organs and from the organs back again to the heart, so did the Sun reveal itself as the centre of living spiritual streams flowing to and fro between the Sun and the planets. The solar system revealed itself as a spiritual system of living realities, the external manifestation of which is no more than a symbol. Everything manifested by the individual planets pointed to the great spiritual experience just described, as a clock points to the time of occurrences in external life.
All that man learns to experience by enhancing his sensibility withdraws, as the spiritual aspect of space, from the ordinary sight of day. It is also concealed by the spectacle presented at night. For what does man see at night with his ordinary Faculties when he looks up to the heavens? He sees only the external side, just as he sees only the external side of his own inner being. The starry sky we behold is the body of spiritual reality lying behind it. Wonderful as is the spectacle of the starry sky at night, it is nothing but the physical body of the cosmic spirit, manifesting through this body in its movements and in its outward effects. Once again for ordinary human consciousness a veil is drawn over everything that man would behold were he able spiritually to see through the spectacle presented to him in space. Just as we are protected in ordinary life from beholding our own inner being, we are also protected from beholding the spirit underlying the outer, material world; the veil of the sense-world is spread over the underlying spiritual reality. Why should this be so?
If a man were to have direct vision of the spiritual Macrocosm without the preparation that has been described—it is the opposite process to that undergone by the mystic—a feeling of the most terrifying bewilderment would come over him, for the phenomena are so mighty and awe-inspiring that the concepts evolved in ordinary life would be quite incapable of enabling him to endure this utterly bewildering spectacle. He would be overcome by a tremendous enhancement of the fear he otherwise knows only in a weak form. Just as a man would be consumed by shame if, without preparation, he were to penetrate into his own inner being, he would be suffocated by fear if, while still unprepared, he were to confront the phenomena of the outer world; he would feel as though he were being led into a labyrinth. Only when the soul has prepared itself through ideas and thoughts which lead beyond the realm of ordinary experience can it prepare itself to endure the bewildering spectacle.
Man's intellectual life today makes it impossible for him to undergo what could at one time be undergone by individuals belonging to an original population of Northern and Western Europe through an intensification of the feeling of spring and autumn. Intellectuality was by no means as general in those times as it is today. Men's thinking is utterly different from what it was in those olden days, when it was far less developed. But with the gradual evolution of intellectuality, the capacity for this experience of Nature was lost. It is, however, possible for man to have it indirectly, as if in reflection, when these feelings can be kindled, not by actual experience of the happenings in external Nature but by accounts and descriptions of the spiritual aspects of the Macrocosm.
At the present time, therefore, it is necessary for descriptions to be provided such as those contained, for example, in the book, Occult Science—an Outline, which has just been published. I say this without boasting, simply because circumstances make it necessary. Such descriptions are of realities which cannot be outwardly perceived, which underlie the world spiritually and can be seen by one who has undergone the requisite preparation. Let us suppose that such a book is not read in the way that books of another kind are read today, but that it is read—as it should be—in such a way that the concepts and ideas it presents in an unpretentious form induce in the reader feelings which are experienced in the very greatest intensity. Such experiences are then similar to those that were induced in the old Northern Mysteries.
The book gives, for example, an account of the earlier embodiments of the Earth, and if read with inner participation, a difference of style will be recognised in the descriptions of the Old Saturn, Old Sun and Old Moon conditions. By letting what is there said about Old Saturn work upon us, we shall induce a feeling consonant with the mood of spring, and in the description of the Old Sun-evolution there is something analogous to the emotion of exultation once experienced on Midsummer Night. The description of the Old Moon-evolution may evoke the mood of autumn and the whole style of the description of Earth-evolution proper will induce a mood similar to that prevailing when the time of the winter solstice is approaching. At the right place in the description of Earth-evolution an indication is given of the central experience connected with the mood of Christmas. [* See pp. 216-18 in the 1962-3 edition ofOccult Science—an Outline.]
This knowledge can be given today in the place of experiences which man is no longer capable of undergoing because he has now risen from an earlier life in feeling to intellectuality, to thinking; hence it is through the mirror of thinking that feelings originally kindled by Nature herself must be influenced. This is how writings should be composed if they are to convey what it is the aim of Spiritual Science to convey, and the moods they generate must be consonant with the course of the year. Theoretical descriptions are quite senseless for they simply lead to spiritual matters being regarded just as if they were recipes in a cookery book!
The difference between books on Spiritual Science and other kinds of literature lies not so much in the fact that unusual things are described but mainly in how things are presented. From this you will realise that the contents of Spiritual Science are drawn from deep sources and that in accordance with the mission of our time, feelings must be quickened through thoughts. You will realise then that it is also possible today to find something that can lead again out of the prevailing confusion.
Now when guided by such principles, a man sets out along the path leading into the labyrinth of happenings in the spiritual Macrocosm, this is something that was prophetically foreshadowed among the original peoples of Northern Europe. The faculties enabling them to read the great script of Nature were still active in these peoples at a time when the Greeks had already reached a high stage of intellectuality. It was the mission of the Greeks to prepare what we today must bring to an even more advanced degree of development. A book such as Occult Science could not have been written in the days of ancient Greece, but Greek culture made it possible, in a different way, for one who ventured into the labyrinth of the spiritual Cosmos to find a thread that would guide him back again. This is indicated in the legend of Theseus who took the Thread of Ariadne with him into the labyrinth. Now what is the Thread of Ariadne today? The concepts and mental pictures of the super-sensible world we form in the soul! It is the spiritual knowledge that is made available to us in order that we may penetrate safely into the Macrocosm. And so Spiritual Science which, to begin with, speaks purely to the intellect, can be a Thread of Ariadne, helping us to overcome the bewilderment that might come if we were to enter unprepared into the spiritual world of the Macrocosm.
So we see that if a man wishes to find the spirit behind and pervading the outer world, he must traverse with full awareness a region of which in normal life he is unconscious; he must traverse consciously the very stream which in everyday life takes consciousness from him. If then he allows himself to be affected by feelings kindled by the cyclic course of Nature herself or by concepts and ideas such as those referred to, if, in short, he achieves real self-development, he gradually becomes capable of fearlessly approaching that spiritual Power who is at first invisible. Just as the Inner Guardian of the Threshold is imperceptible to ordinary consciousness, so too is this second Guardian, the greater guardian of the Threshold, who stands before the spiritual Macrocosm. He becomes more and more perceptible to one who has undergone due preparation and is making his way along the other path into the spiritual Macrocosm. He must fearlessly and without falling into bewilderment pass this spiritual Being who also shows us how insignificant we are and that we must develop new organs if we aspire to penetrate into the Macrocosm. If a man were to approach this Greater Guardian of the Threshold consciously, but still unprepared, he would be filled with fear and despair.
We have now heard how with his normal consciousness man is enclosed within the frontiers marked by two portals. At the one stands the Lesser Guardian of the Threshold, at the other, the Greater Guardian of the Threshold. The one portal leads into man's inner being, into the spirit of the Microcosm; the other portal leads into the spirit of the Macrocosm. But now we must realise that from this same Macrocosm come the spiritual forces which build up our own being. Whence comes the material for our physical and etheric bodies? All the forces which there converge and are so full of wisdom, are arrayed before us in the Great World when we have passed the Greater Guardian of the Threshold. We are confronted there not by knowledge only. And that is another point of importance. Until now I have been speaking only of knowledge that can be acquired by man but it does not yet become insight into the actual workings and forces of the Macrocosm. The body cannot be built out of data of knowledge; it must be built out of forces. Once past the mysterious Being who is the Greater Guardian of the Threshold, we come into a world of unknown workings and forces. To begin with, man knows nothing of this realm because the veil of the sense-world spreads in front. But these forces stream into us, have built up our physical and etheric bodies. This whole interplay, the interactions between the Great World and the Little World, between what is within and what is without, concealed by the veil of the sense-world—all this is embraced within the bewildering labyrinth. It is life itself, in full reality, into which we enter and have then to describe.
To-morrow we shall begin by taking a first glimpse into that which man cannot, it is true, perceive in its essence, but which is revealed to him as active workings when he passes through the one or the other portal, when he passes the Lesser and the Greater Guardians of the Threshold.
Dritter Vortrag
Mit dem gestrigen Vortrage - das möchte ich bemerken, damit kein Mißverständnis entsteht - sollte nichts nach irgendeiner Richtung hin jetzt schon bewiesen werden, sondern es sollte am Schlusse nur darauf hingedeutet werden, daß aus gewissen Wahrnehmungen heraus die Geistesforscher der verflossenen Zeiten sich veranlaßt gesehen haben, mit gleichwertigen Namen gewisse Vorgänge und Dinge des Himmelsraumes oder unseres Planetensystems zu bezeichnen und mit denselben Namen andere Vorgänge in unserem eigenen täglichen und nächtlichen Erleben. Es war also der Vortrag mehr darauf berechnet, sozusagen Begriffe herbeizuschaffen, wie wir sie brauchen werden für unsere nächsten Darstellungen. Überhaupt müssen die Vorträge, die in diesem Zyklus gehalten werden, als ein Ganzes angesehen werden, und die ersten Vorträge sind in weitestem Umfange eigentlich dazu bestimmt, erst die Ideen und Begriffe herbeizutragen für die Erkenntnisse der geistigen Welten, die dann in den folgenden Vorträgen mitgeteilt werden sollen. Auch heute werden wir in gewisser Beziehung noch an Naheliegendes anknüpfen, um allmählich aufzusteigen zu fernerliegenden geistigen Gebieten.
Wir haben in den ersten Vorträgen dieses Zyklus gesehen und konnten darüber auch schon einiges aus den beiden öffentlichen Vorträgen entnehmen, daß der Mensch in bezug auf seine innere Wesenheit, also in bezug auf dasjenige, was wir auseinandergelegt haben in das eigentliche Ich und den astralischen Leib des Menschen, in seinem Schlafzustand lebt in einer geistigen Welt und beim Aufwachen zurückkehrt in dasjenige, was während des Schlafzustandes im Bett liegenbleibt, in seinen physischen Leib und in seinen Äther- oder Lebensleib. Nun wird sich ja jedem, der das Leben betrachtet, bald zeigen, daß bei diesem Übergang aus dem schlafenden in den wachenden Zustand eigentlich eine vollständige Änderung des Erlebens eintritt. Dasjenige, was wir erleben im wachenden Zustande, ist ja durchaus nicht eine Anschauung oder eine Erkenntnis, die wir gewinnen von den beiden Gliedern der menschlichen Natur, in die wir beim Aufwachen untertauchen. Wir tauchen unter in unseren Äther- oder Lebensleib und in unseren physischen Leib, aber wir lernen sie während des Wachzustandes durchaus nicht so kennen, daß wir sie etwa von innen aus anschauen. Was weiß denn der Mensch im gewöhnlichen Leben davon, wie sein Äther- oder Lebensleib und sein physischer Leib von innen betrachtet aussehen. Das ist ja gerade das Wesentliche bei den Erlebnissen des Wachzustandes, daß wir unsere eigene Wesenheit, so wie sie in der physischen Welt drinnensteht, von außen betrachten und nicht von innen. Wir sehen unseren eigenen physischen Leib mit denselben Augen von außen an, mit denen wir die übrige physische Welt ansehen. Wir betrachten unser eigenes Wesen während des Wachzustandes niemals von innen, sondern immer nur von außen. Wir lernen uns also selber als Menschen im Grunde genommen nur von außen kennen, durch Anschauung, als ein Wesen der Sinneswelt. Wenn wir den Zustand genau ins Auge fassen, der sich als Übergangszustand vom Schlafen zum Wachen charakterisieren läßt, so müssen wir sagen: Wie wäre es denn, wenn wir nun wirklich beim Untertauchen in den Äther- oder Lebensleib und in den physischen Leib uns von innen betrachten würden? - Wir müßten dann etwas ganz anderes sehen. Was wir dann sehen würden, das würden die intimen Erlebnisse sein, die der Mystiker sucht und auf die wir schon ein wenig hingedeutet haben. Der Mystiker sucht die Aufmerksamkeit von der äußeren Welt abzulenken, sucht zum Schweigen zu bringen alles dasjenige, was auf sein Auge eindringt, sucht wirklich hinunterzusteigen in sein inneres Wesen. Aber wenn wir von diesen Erlebnissen des Mystikers zunächst absehen, so können wir sagen: Wir sind im Leben davor behütet, in dieses unser Inneres hineinzusehen, denn in demselben Moment, wo wir aufwachen, wird unser Blick abgelenkt auf die äußere Welt. - So daß also das Aufwachen so beschrieben werden kann, daß man sagt: Statt daß wir uns von innen anschauen, wird im Moment des Aufwachens unser Blick abgelenkt auf die äußere Welt, auf den Sinnenteppich um uns herum, und unser eigener physischer Leib gehört ja zu diesem äußeren Sinnenteppich, wenn wir ihn im Wachen betrachten. - Es entgeht uns also im wachenden Zustande die Möglichkeit, uns selber von innen aus zu betrachten. Es ist, wie wenn wir durch einen Strom geführt würden: Wenn wir schlafen, sind wir diesseits des Stromes, wenn wir aufgewacht sind, sind wir jenseits des Stromes. Würden wir diesseits des Stromes etwas wahrnehmen können, dann würden wir, wie wir später sehen werden, unseren astralischen Leib und unser Ich wahrnehmen. Aber wir sind davor behütet, dieses unser Inneres im Schlafzustand wahrzunehmen, denn wenn wir einschlafen, erlischt die Möglichkeit des Wahrnehmens, es erlischt das Bewußtsein.
So ist tatsächlich eine scharfe Grenze gezogen zwischen unserer inneren und unserer äußeren Welt. Die überschreiten wir mit dem Einschlafen und Aufwachen, aber keine Grenzüberschreitung können wir machen, ohne daß uns eigentlich etwas entzogen wird. Wenn wir die Grenze überschreiten beim Einschlafen, so hört unser Bewußtsein auf, und wir können die geistige Welt nicht mehr beobachten. Beim Aufwachen wird unser Bewußtsein sogleich auf die äußere Welt abgelenkt, und wir können das Geistige, das uns selber zugrunde liegt, nicht mehr beobachten, denn es wird unser Bewußtsein eben in Anspruch genommen von den äußeren Erlebnissen. Dasjenige, was wir da überschreiten, was uns das Geistige verdunkelt in dem Momente, wo wir aufwachen, was uns dieses Geistige nur erkennen läßt wie durch einen Schleier, das ist nichts anderes als etwas, was sich einschiebt zwischen unsere Empfindungsseele und unseren Äther- oder Lebensleib und unseren physischen Leib. Was die letzteren zwei Glieder verdeckt, was uns sie zudeckt beim Aufwachen, das nennen wir Empfindungsleib. Dieser ist die Ursache, daß wir den äußeren Sinnesteppich sehen. In dem Augenblicke, wo wir aufwachen, wird der Empfindungsleib ganz in Anspruch genommen von dem äußeren Sinnesteppich, und wir können nicht in uns selber hineinschauen. So stellt sich dieser Empfindungsleib wie eine Grenze hin zwischen dem, was geistig der äußeren Sinneswelt zugrunde liegt, und unserem inneren Erleben.
Wir werden sehen, daß das notwendig ist für das menschliche Leben, denn dasjenige, was der Mensch sehen würde, wenn er durch diesen Strom bewußt hindurchgehen würde, das darf er im normalen Verlaufe seines Lebens zunächst nicht sehen, weil er es nicht aushalten würde, weil er sich erst vorbereiten muß, es zu sehen. Und die mystische Entwickelung besteht nicht darin, daß man mit Gewalt eindringt in die innere Welt unseres Äther- oder Lebensleibes und unseres physischen Leibes, sondern sie besteht darin, daß man sich erst vorbereitet, daß man sich erst reif macht, dasjenige zu sehen, was man dann sehen kann, wenn man bewußt durch diesen Strom hindurchgeht. Was würde mit dem Menschen geschehen, der unvorbereitet hinabtauchen wollte in sein Inneres, der also beim Aufwachen nicht eine äußere Welt sehen wollte, sondern der eindringen wollte in seine eigene innere Welt, in dasjenige, was geistig unserem Äther- oder Lebensleib und unserem physischen Leib zugrunde liegt? Nun, ein solcher Mensch würde in seiner Seele ein Gefühl mit ungeheurer Stärke erleben, das man im gewöhnlichen Leben nur in ganz geringer Abschwächung kennt. Ein Gefühl, das man im gewöhnlichen Leben nur schwach kennt, das würde den Menschen überkommen, wenn er mit voller Aufmerksamkeit beim Aufwachen in sein Inneres hineinsteigen könnte. Durch eine Art Vergleich werden Sie zunächst - und es soll wieder nichts bewiesen werden, sondern es sollen nur Begriffe gewonnen werden - den Begriff erhalten können von diesem Gefühl.
Es gibt im Menschen dasjenige, was man Schamgefühl nennt. Dieses Schamgefühl besteht ja darin, daß der Mensch, wenn er sich in seiner Seele irgendeiner Sache schämt, die Aufmerksamkeit der anderen ablenken will von dem betreffenden Dinge oder der betreffenden Eigenschaft, deren er sich schämt. Dieses Schamgefühl für etwas, was im Menschen ist und was er nicht zur Offenbarung bringen will, ist eine schwache Andeutung von jenem Gefühl, das zu ungeheuerster Stärke wachsen würde, wenn der Mensch beim Aufwachen bewußt in sein eigenes Innere hineinsehen könnte. Es würde dieses Gefühl sich mit einer solchen Gewalt der menschlichen Seele bemächtigen, daß der Mensch es über alles, was ihm entgegenrtritt, ausgegossen empfinden würde. Er würde ein Erlebnis haben, das sich vergleichen läßt mit dem Gefühl, wie wenn er in Feuer zugrunde gehen würde. Wie eine Art Verbrennen würde dieses Schamgefühl auf ihn wirken. Warum würde es so auf den Menschen wirken? Dieses Schamgefühl würde so auf den Menschen wirken, weil der Mensch in diesem Augenblick empfinden würde, wie eigentlich sein physischer Leib und sein Äther- oder Lebensleib vollkommen sind im Verhältnis zu demjenigen, was er als Seelenwesen ist. Davon, wie der physische Leib und der Äther- oder Lebensleib im Verhältnis zu demjenigen, was der Mensch als Seelenwesen ist, vollkommen sind, kann man sich auch durch gewöhnliche Logik schon einen Begriff machen. Wer rein äußerlich durch die physische Wissenschaft durchdringt den Wunderbau, sagen wir, des menschlichen Herzens oder des menschlichen Gehirns in allen Einzelheiten, ja, wer meinetwillen nur durchdringt ein Stück des menschlichen Knochensystems mit seinem wunderbaren Bau, der wird schon fühlen können, wie unendlich weise und vollkommen dieser menschliche Leib eingerichtet ist. Wenn man nur ein einzelnes Stück Knochen nimmt, zum Beispiel den Oberschenkelknochen, und beobachtet, wie unendlich weise und vollkommen in feinem Netzwerk die Balken so gefügt sind, daß mit dem geringsten Aufwand an Materie die größte Kraft und Tragfähigkeit erzeugt wird, die den Oberleib des Menschen trägt, oder wenn man den wunderbaren Bau des menschlichen Herzens und Gehirns betrachtet, dann kann man schon eine Ahnung erhalten von dem, was man erleben würde, wenn man das Ganze von innen durchschaute, wie es aus Weisheitsurgründen hervorgequollen ist. Vergleicht man damit, was der Mensch als Seelenwesen ist, was er ist in bezug auf seine Genüsse, Leidenschaften und Begierden, so sieht man, wie der Mensch eigentlich darauf aus ist, zu ruinieren den wunderbaren Bau des physischen Leibes. Er entfaltet sein ganzes Leben lang seine Begierden, Triebe und Leidenschaften und geht im Grunde genommen darauf aus, den Wunderbau des physischen Herzens und Gehirns zu ruinieren. Was man im gewöhnlichen Leben beobachten kann, wie der Mensch dadurch, daß er sich dem Genusse dieser oder jener Genußmittel hingibt, sein Herz und sein Gehirn zugrunde richtet, das sind ja sozusagen nur die trivialen Anfänge einer Zerstörungstätigkeit an dem Wunderbau des Menschenleibes. Das alles würde vor der menschlichen Seele lebendig stehen, wenn sie bewußt hinabsteigen würde in ihren Äther- oder Lebensleib und in ihren physischen Leib. Und es würde etwas ungeheuer Niederschmetterndes, etwas Auslöschendes für den Menschen haben, wenn er vergleichen könnte die Unvollkommenheit der menschlichen Seele mit dem Wunderbau des Leibes, wenn er sehen könnte, was in seiner Seele ist, und das vergleichen damit, wie die weise Weltenführung seinen physischen und seinen Ätherleib gemacht hat, in die er jeden Morgen bei dem Aufwachen hinuntertaucht. Darum wird er davor behütet, in bewußter Weise hinunterzusteigen in sein eigenes Inneres, er wird abgelenkt auf das, was sich als äußerer Sinnesteppich vor seinen Sinnen den ganzen Tag über ausbreitet. Er kann nicht hineinschauen in sein Inneres.
Der Vergleich zwischen der menschlichen Seele und demjenigen, was geistig zugrunde liegt dem physischen und Äther- oder Lebensleib, würde Schamgefühl hervorrufen, und diesem Gefühl wird vorgearbeitet durch alle jene Seelenerlebnisse, die der Mystiker durchmacht, bevor er würdig wird, hinunterzusteigen in sein Inneres. Es sind namentlich die Erlebnisse des Mystikers, die in seiner Seele hervorrufen den denkbar stärksten Vorsatz, seine Seele selber als unbedeutend, als schwach zu empfinden, als so zu empfinden, daß sie einen unendlich weiten Weg der Vervollkommnung vor sich hat. Daher muß der Mystiker namentlich die Empfindungen der Demut und der Vervollkommnungssehnsucht in seiner Seele erwecken, damit sie ihn vorbereiten, den Vergleich dadurch auszuhalten, sonst müßte er vor Scham wie im Feuer verbrennen. Der Mystiker macht sich reif dazu durch folgende Gedanken: Gewiß, wenn ich das anschaue, was ich bin, und es vergleiche mit dem, was die weise Weltenlenkung an mir gemacht hat, muß ich einsehen, wie klein, wie schlecht, wie niedrig ich noch bin. - Und das Schamgefühl, das ja äußerlich Schamröte erzeugt, würde sich so auswachsen, daß es wirklich ein versengendes, brennendes Feuer werden könnte, wenn nicht der Mystiker sich sagen könnte: Ja, jetzt fühle ich mich so gering als möglich gegenüber demjenigen, was ich werden kann, aber ich will versuchen, die starken Kräfte in mir zu entwickeln, die mich fähig machen, auch geistig dem zu entsprechen, was die weise Weltenlenkung in meine Leiblichkeit hineingebaut hat. - Dem Mystiker, der in sein Inneres hineinsteigen will, wird begreiflich gemacht von dem geistigen Lehrer, daß er zunächst fühlen muß ein Gefühl der Demut, das sozusagen bis ins Unendliche geht. Dieses Gefühl läßt sich etwa so schildern. Man kann demjenigen, der angehender Mystiker ist, sagen: Sieh dir einmal die Pflanze an. Die Pflanze wurzelt in dem Boden. Der Boden bietet ihr ein Reich dar, das niedriger ist als das Pflanzenreich. Die Pflanze kann aber nicht leben ohne dieses Reich, das zunächst für ein niedrigeres genommen werden muß. Wenn die Pflanze sich hinunterneigt zu dem mineralischen Reich, dann kann sie sagen: Diesem niedrigeren Reich, aus dem ich hervorgewachsen bin, dem verdanke ich mein Dasein. Sie müßte sich in Demut zu dem niedrigeren Reich neigen und sagen: Dir verdanke ich, daß ich bin. Ebenso verdankt das Tier dem Pflanzenreich das Dasein. Es müßte, wenn es seiner Stellung im Weltenbau sich bewußt werden würde, in Demut sich zum niedrigeren Reiche neigen. Und der Mensch, der sich umschaut in der Welt, er müßte sagen: Eigentlich könnte ich diese Stufe nicht erreicht haben, wenn nicht alles dasjenige, was unter mir ist, sich in der entsprechenden Weise entwickelt hätte. - Wenn der Mensch solche Gefühle in seiner Seele entwickelt, dann kommt in sie die Stimmung, daß er eigentlich nicht nur Grund hat, in Dankbarkeit aufzublicken zu dem, was über ihm ist, sondern auch mit Dank zu schauen auf dasjenige, was unter ihm ist. Wenn das so recht in der Seele sich verbreitet, was man die Erziehung zur Demut nennen kann, dann wird die Seele durchflossen und durchdrungen von diesem Demutsgefühl, von dieser Demutsempfindung, daß man noch einen unendlich weiten Weg vor sich hat, um vollkommen zu werden.
Alles, was jetzt gesagt worden ist, kann nicht erschöpft werden mit Begriffen und Ideen. Wenn man das könnte, dann wäre der Mystiker bald fertig. Aber es läßt sich nicht erschöpfen mit Begriffen und Ideen, sondern es läßt sich nur erleben. Nur derjenige, der immer wieder und wiederum solche Gefühle erlebt, der verbreitet über seine Seele die Grundstimmung, die notwendig ist für den Mystiker. Wenn der Mensch reif werden will, hinunterzusteigen in sein Inneres, dann muß er jenes Gefühl entwickeln, welches ihn befähigt, dasjenige, was sich ihm in den Weg stellen kann, wenn er vollkommener und immer vollkommener werden will, zu ertragen. Ergebenheitsgefühl muß er dem gegenüber entwickeln, was er ertragen soll, um sich einer gewissen Stufe der Vollkommenheit zu nähern. Es muß durch lange, lange Zeiten hindurch der Mystiker in sich das Gefühl ausbilden, daß man nur durch Überwindung von Leid die starken Kräfte entwickelt, die man braucht, um die Seele aus jenem Zustand herauszubringen, in dem sie sich schwach fühlen muß gegenüber demjenigen, was sich ihr in den Weg stellt. Da muß die Seele auf sich wirken lassen jene Empfindung, durch die sie sich immer wiederum sagt: Wenn auch noch so viel Schmerzen mich treffen werden, ich will aufrecht stehen ihnen gegenüber, ich will nicht wanken; denn wenn ich nur das genießen würde, was mir das Leben an Glück bringt, dann würde ich niemals die starke Kraft entwickeln können, die die menschliche Seele braucht. Kräfte werden durch Widerstand, in der Überwindung von Hindernissen erlangt, nicht dadurch, daß man einen Zustand einfach hinnimmt. Nur dadurch werden die Kräfte gestählt, daß man sie anspannt in der Überwindung von Hindernissen, daß der Mensch bereit ist, Leid und Schmerz mit Ergebung zu ertragen. Das ist etwas, was der Mystiker in seiner Seele entwickelt, wenn er sich bereit machen will, hinunterzusteigen in das eigene Innere, ohne in Schamgefühl zu verbrennen.
Das alles, was da durchzumachen ist, muß selbstverständlich der Mensch im normalen Leben nicht durchmachen, und niemand darf glauben, daß an den gewöhnlichen Menschen das Ansinnen gestellt wird durch irgendeine Geisteswissenschaft, daß er solche Übungen durchmacht. Was hier geschildert wird, ist nicht etwas, was Forderungen aufstellt, sondern es geschieht, um zu erzählen, was diejenigen, die freiwillig eine Summe von solchen Erlebnissen auf sich nehmen, aus ihrer Seele machen können, und was der Mystiker erstrebt; er macht seine Seele fähig, hinunterzusteigen in dieses menschliche Innere. Im normalen Verlauf des Lebens stellt sich aber zwischen das, was man als Mystiker erleben kann im Innern, und das, was man in der äußeren Welt erlebt, der Empfindungsleib des Menschen hinein und behütet den Menschen davor, daß er unvorbereitet in sein Inneres hineinsteigt und sozusagen vor Schamgefühl verbrennen würde. Was es ist, das den Menschen davor behütet, unvorbereitet in sein Inneres hineinzusteigen, kann er natürlich im normalen Verlauf des Lebens nicht erfahren, denn da dringt er schon an die Grenze der geistigen Welt. Diese Grenze muß der Geistesforscher, der das menschliche Innere erforschen will, allerdings überschreiten. Der Geistesforscher muß also hindurchschreiten durch den Strom, der das gewöhnliche, normale menschliche Bewußtsein ablenkt von dem Inneren auf das Äußere. Dieses gewöhnliche, normale menschliche Bewußtsein wird behütet, in einem unreifen Zustand hineinzugelangen in das menschliche Innere, wird behütet davor, im Feuer der eigenen Scham zu verbrennen. Die Macht, welche da den Menschen jeden Morgen beim Aufwachen behütet, hineinzusteigen in das eigene Innere, kann der Mensch nicht sehen. Es ist die erste geistige Wesenheit, welcher der echte, wirkliche Geistesforscher auf dem Wege, der in sein Inneres führt, begegnet. Er muß vorbeikommen an jener Wesenheit, welche im normalen Bewußtsein ihn behütet vor dem innerlichen Verbrennen, vor dem innerlichen Brande. Er muß vorbeikommen an derjenigen Wesenheit, die ablenkt sein Nach-innen-Schauen auf die Außenwelt, auf den äußeren Sinnesteppich. Die Wirkung dieser Wesenheit verspürt das normale Bewußtsein. Sehen kann der Mensch sie nicht, denn es ist schon die erste geistige Wesenheit, an der wir vorbeikommen müssen, wenn wir in die geistige Welt eindringen wollen. Und diese geistige Wesenheit, welche jeden Morgen beim Menschen steht und ihn davor behütet, in unreifem Zustand sein eigenes Innere geistig zu schauen, nennen wir in der Geisteswissenschaft den kleinen Hüter der Schwelle. An diesem kleinen Hüter der Schwelle vorbei führt der Weg in die geistige Welt hinein.
So haben wir zunächst an ganz naheliegenden Erlebnissen des Tages unser Bewußtsein hingeführt bis zu der Grenze, wo wir ahnen können, was der Geistesforscher sieht als den kleinen Hüter der Schwelle. Beschreiben wollen wir diesen kleinen Hüter der Schwelle später, denn wir wollen ausgehen von Bekanntem und allmählich dem Unbekannten uns nähern. Damit also ist auch schon angedeutet, daß wir unser wahres Wesen eigentlich im Tagesbewußtsein, im Wachzustand gar nicht sehen. Und wenn wir unser eigenes Wesen im Sinne der beiden letzten Vorträge den Mikrokosmos nennen, die kleine Welt, dann können wir sagen: Wir sehen den Mikrokosmos eigentlich niemals in seiner wahren geistigen Gestalt, sondern wir sehen nur das, was sich im normalen Zustande von ihm zeigt, nur das Äußere. Es ist also wirklich etwas, was sich vergleichen läßt mit einer Art von Spiegelbild. So wie wir, wenn wir in den Spiegel sehen, unser Bild sehen und nicht uns selber, so sehen wir den Mikrokosmos, das eigentliche Wesen des Menschen, wenn wir im Tagesbewußtsein sind, nicht selber, sondern wir sehen nur sein Spiegelbild; wir sehen den Mikrokosmos im Spiegelbild.
Sehen wir denn den Makrokosmos in seiner Wirklichkeit? Wir wollen wiederum ganz naheliegende tägliche Erlebnisse vor unsere Seele hinstellen. Was erlebt der Mensch im Verlaufe von vierundzwanzig Stunden in der sinnlichen Außenwelt? In der sinnlichen Außenwelt erlebt der Mensch auch einen Wandel zwischen Tag und Nacht, wie im Mikrokosmos, nur tritt ihm dieser jetzt in der Außenwelt entgegen. Er erlebt, wie des Morgens die Sonne aufgeht, wie sie des Abends untergeht. Er erlebt, wie ihm das Sonnenlicht zunächst beleuchtet all die Gegenstände um ihn herum. Was ist es denn, was der Mensch vom Sonnenaufgang zum Sonnenuntergang sieht? Im Grunde genommen sieht er gar nicht die Gegenstände, sondern er sieht das Sonnenlicht, das sie ihm zurück werfen. Einen Gegenstand im Finstern sehen wir nicht. Einen Gegenstand in unbeleuchtetem Zustand kann der Mensch nicht sehen. Was für das Auge gilt, können wir auch für die übrigen Sinne sagen, aber wir wollen zunächst beim Auge bleiben. Wenn man in die Sonne sieht, so werden die Augen geblendet. Man kann daher niemals die Sonne selbst wirklich wahrnehmen. Der Mensch nimmt im Grunde genommen die Sonnenstrahlen wahr, die die Außenwelt ihm zurückwirft. Er nimmt nicht die Gegenstände wahr, sondern die reflektierten Sonnenstrahlen. Das geschieht vom Morgen bis zum Abend. Aber der Mensch sieht nur in einer sehr unvollkommenen Art dasjenige, was die Ursache davon ist, daß er die äußeren Dinge sieht, denn dasjenige, dem Sie verdanken, daß Sie überhaupt bei Tag eine äußere Sinneswelt wahrnehmen können, das blendet Sie. Das ist ein Bild, ein Gleichnis. So wie wir uns zur äußeren Sinneswelt verhalten, so verhalten wir uns auch in unserem eigenen Inneren. Die Ursache, warum wir die Dinge wahrnehmen, sehen wir niemals. Wir nehmen die Dinge wahr, können uns aber nicht zu demjenigen erheben, was uns die Dinge wahrnehmbar macht. Das blendet uns wie die Sonne, wenn wir sie als den Grund der Sichtbarkeit der Gegenstände wahrnehmen wollen. So geht es uns mit der äußeren Sonne während des Tages in einer ganz ähnlichen Weise, wie es uns beim Aufwachen mit unserem eigenen Inneren geht. Wir leben in unserem eigenen Inneren. Die Kräfte, die im eigenen Inneren sind, befähigen uns, zu leben und die Außenwelt wahrzunehmen, aber sie verhindern uns auch, uns selbst wahrzunehmen. Es ist ebenso wie mit der Sonne; sie befähigt uns, die Dinge wahrzunehmen, aber sie blendet uns, wenn wir sie selber wahrnehmen wollen.
Aber wir können auch alles, was mit der Sonne in einer gewissen Weise verbunden ist, was sonst zur Sonne gehört, während des Tages nicht wahrnehmen. Wir nehmen das wahr, was unsere Erde uns zeigt in dem reflektierten Sonnenlichte. Wenn wir in den Weltenraum hinaussehen, so sehen wir auch das nicht, was zu unserem Sonnensystem gehört. Zu unserem Sonnensystem gehört nicht bloß die Sonne, zu ihm gehören auch die Planeten. Ihr Anblick ist uns während des Tages entzogen. Die Sonne blendet uns also nicht nur für sich selbst während des Tages, sondern auch so weit, daß wir die Planeten am Tage nicht sehen können. Wir schauen in den Raum hinaus und wissen: Wenn da draußen auch die Planeten sind, die zu unserem Sonnensystem gehören, sie entziehen sich unserem Anblick. Wir können also sagen: Geradeso wie sich uns bei Tage unser eigenes Innere entzieht, wie sich uns bei Nacht die geistige Welt entzieht, wenn wir im gewöhnlichen Schlafzustand sind, so entziehen sich bei Tag, wenn wir den Blick hinausrichten und den Sinnesteppich überschauen, die Ursachen für unser sinnliches Wahrnehmen. Dasjenige, was eigentlich der Sonne zugrunde liegt, was die Sonne verbindet mit den übrigen Körpern des Sonnensystems, mit den Wesenheiten, die wir sehen in ihrem äußeren Ausdrucke, in demjenigen, was wir Merkur, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn und so weiter nennen, was da lebendiges Zusammenwirken ist zwischen der Sonne und diesen Körpern, das entzieht sich uns bei Tage. Was wir wahrnehmen, ist eine Wirkung des Sonnenlichtes. Und wenn wir jetzt diesen Zustand vergleichen mit dem Zustand, in dem die Sinneswelt um uns ist in der Nacht vom Untergang der Sonne bis zu ihrem Aufgange, so können wir dann in einer gewissen Weise wahrnehmen, was zu unserem Sonnensystem gehört. Wir können den Blick auf den wunderbar gestirnten Himmel hinausrichten, wo sich die Planeten unserem Anblick darbieten. Aber während wir die zu unserem Sonnensystem gehörenden Planeten am nächtlichen Himmel sehen können, entzieht sich uns die Sonne selber, ist für uns die Sonne unsichtbar. So daß wir sagen müssen: Dasjenige, was uns bei Tage unsere Sinneswelt sichtbar macht, das nimmt uns in der Nacht die Möglichkeit, es zu betrachten. Es entzieht sich uns, es hüllt nachts unsere ganze Sinneswelt ein in Unwahrnehmbarkeit, und wir erblicken nur dasjenige, was zu unserer Sonne gehört, wir sehen nur die planetarische Welt.
Gibt es nun eine Möglichkeit, sozusagen für den Nachtzustand etwas Ähnliches herzustellen, wie es der Zustand des Mystikers ist für das Hinabsteigen in die Innenwelt, so wie wir es beschrieben haben? Gibt es etwas Ähnliches? Die heutige Menschheit hat nicht viel Bewußtsein von diesem ähnlichen Zustand, aber es gibt so etwas. Es besteht darin, daß der Mensch, wie der Mystiker, gewisse Eigenschaften der Demut und der Ergebenheit und noch gewisse andere Eigenschaften entwickelt, die wir uns dadurch begreiflich machen können, daß wir zunächst die einfachste dieser Eigenschaften uns vor die Seele führen. Wir wollen wiederum von einer ganz einfachen Eigenschaft ausgehen. Der Mensch hat sie im normalen Leben auch, aber nur schwach, geradeso wie das Schamgefühl. Wenn der Mensch dieses Gefühl, das er im gewöhnlichen Leben nur schwach hat und das wir gleich charakterisieren werden, ins Ungeheure vergrößert, dann macht er sich in der Tat bereit, nächtlich etwas ganz anderes zu erleben als im normalen Bewußtsein. Und dieses Gefühl, das der Mensch da in sich entwickeln muß, ist das folgende. Sie wissen alle, daß wir im Frühling anders empfinden können als im Herbst. Eine gesunde Seele wird im Frühling anders empfinden als im Herbst. Es wird eine gesunde Seele anders empfinden, wenn im Frühling die Knospen an den Bäumen hervorsprießen und uns sozusagen das Versprechen geben von der Schönheit und Herrlichkeit des Sommers. Es ist etwas, was sich in unsere Seele gießt von aufwachender Hoffnung, wenn wir den Frühling herankommen sehen. Es ist dieses Gefühl schwach entwickelt bei dem gewöhnlichen normalen Menschen, aber es ist doch vorhanden. Und wenn wir dann dem Herbst zu leben, dann kann dieses Gefühl, das im Frühling da ist als Hoffnung für den Sommer, das wie ein Erwachen der Seele sich ausnimmt, sich verwandeln in ein Wehmutsgefühl, wenn wir die Bäume sich entlauben sehen, wenn wir sehen, wie an die Stelle von Bäumen und Blumen, die uns den Sommer hindurch einen wunderbaren Anblick gezeigt haben, immer mehr kahle Sträucher, besenartige Gebilde treten. Da verwandelt sich unser Seelenleben; es wird durchzogen von dem, was wir nennen können Wehmut des Herzens. Also wir können im Verlaufe des Jahres, wenn wir mitgehen mit den Erscheinungen des äußeren Lebens, einen Kreislauf der Seele im Jahr durchmachen. Und da beim Menschen diese Gefühle, die eben charakterisiert worden sind, diese Frühlings- und Herbstgefühle, im normalen Leben nur schwach entwickelt sind, so fühlt der Mensch auch die Steigerung des Frühlingsgefühles, wenn es dem Sommer zugeht, nicht in entsprechendem Maße, und er fühlt nicht das Verwandeln der Wehmut des Herbstes in ein noch anderes darüber hinaus gehendes Gefühl, wenn die Erde völlig in ihrem Winterkleid um uns herum sich ausbreitet.
In solchen Gefühlen wurden aber die Geistesschüler erzogen und werden noch heute erzogen -, welche den dem Mystiker entgegengesetzten Weg gehen wollen. Während der Mystiker in sein Inneres hinuntergeführt wird, wird derjenige, der den entgegengesetzten Weg gehen will, hinausgeführt in den Kreislauf der großen Natur und so erzogen, daß er miterlebt die Ereignisse der großen Natur. Seine Seele wird so behandelt, daß er dasjenige, was man im gewöhnlichen Leben schwach fühlt im Frühling, lernt, allmählich in starkem Maße zu fühlen, so daß er mitzuempfinden lernt das ganze Aufsprießen der Vegetation im Frühling. Wenn er sich da ganz hineinzuversetzen vermag, sich selbst zu vergessen vermag und mit der Frühlingsnatur mitzuerleben vermag, dann wird dieses Erleben gegen den Sommer hin etwas ganz Besonderes. Es wird von der erwachenden Hoffnung im Frühling zu einem völligen inneren Aufjauchzen im Sommer. Dazu wird derjenige, der sozusagen ein umgekehrter Mystiker ist, erzogen. Und wiederum, wenn der Mensch so weit ist, daß er in Selbstvergessenheit, ins höchste gesteigert, die Wehmut des Herbstes zu erleben gelernt hat, dann kann er auch fähig werden, die Steigerung des Gefühls zu erleben von der Wehmut des Herbstes bis zum Mitempfinden des Todes der ganzen Natur in der Wintermitte.
So wurden unter anderem erzogen diejenigen Schüler, welche mitgemacht haben den Empfindungsunterricht in den alten nordischen Mysterien, die heute der Außenwelt schon nur mehr der Tradition nach, nur äußerlich bekannt sind. Da wurden die Schüler so erzogen, daß sie durch besondere Methoden lernten, den jährlichen Gang der Natur in ihrem Empfinden, in ihrer Seele mitzumachen. Und alles das, was der Schüler im Sommer zur Zeit der Johannisnacht erlebte, das bedeutete ein Mitjauchzen mit der ganzen Natur. Die Feuer der Johannisnacht waren etwas wie ein Andeuten der Steigerung des Hoffnungsgefühls im Frühling zu einem Mitjauchzen mit der Natur im Sommer, wenn man den den ganzen Kosmos durchziehenden Lebenshauch miterlebte. Und in der Wintersonnenwende empfand der Schüler in tiefster Seele mit das Hinsterben der Natur, unendlich steigernd das Wehmutsgefühl des Herbstes bis zum Mitempfinden des Todes.
So waren die Empfindungserlebnisse, die in der Tat in dieser Stärke kaum mehr von dem heutigen Menschen erlebt werden können. Denn der heutige Mensch ist durch die Fortschritte des intellektuellen Lebens der letzten Jahrhunderte im wesentlichen unfähig zu jenen großen, gewaltigen Erlebnissen, welche die Seele der ursprünglichen Naturvölker des europäischen Festlandes, namentlich der nördlichen und mittleren Gebiete Europas, durchmachten. Dann aber, wenn so etwas durchgemacht worden war, zeigte sich in der Tat für diejenigen Menschen, die so ihre inneren Seelenerlebnisse gesteigert hatten, etwas sehr Eigentümliches. Sie erlangten eine bestimmte Fähigkeit. Wie der Mystiker die Fähigkeit hat, in sein eigenes Inneres hinunterzusteigen, so erlangten sie die Fähigkeit - so sonderbar das auch klingt, es ist aber der Fall, ich schildere nur Dinge, welche unzählige Menschen erlebt haben und noch erleben können -, sie erlangten die Fähigkeit, die Materie zu durchschauen, das heißt, sie konnten nicht bloß das sehen, was man als Oberfläche wahrnimmt, sondern sie konnten durch diese hindurchschauen, vor allen Dingen vermochten sie in der Zeit von Sonnenuntergang bis Sonnenaufgang durch unsere Erde hindurchzuschauen, und durch die durchsichtige Erde hindurch erglänzte ihnen lebendig die Sonne. Das nannte man in den alten Mysterien das Schauen der Sonne um Mitternacht. Allerdings konnte die Sonne in ihrer größten Fülle und Herrlichkeit nur dann geschaut werden, wenn man sich mit seiner Seele in der Zeit der Wintersonnenwende jenem Zustande genähert hatte, wo der ganze äußere Sinnesteppich abgestorben war. Dann hatte man die Fähigkeit errungen, die Sonne zu schauen, jetzt nicht als eine blendende Wesenheit, wie sie bei Tag erscheint, sondern alles Blendende an der Sonne war abgeschwächt; man sah die Sonne nicht mehr als physisches Wesen draußen, sondern als geistiges Wesen. Man schaute den Sonnengeist. Was als physische Wirkung wie eine Blendung wirkte, war ausgelöscht durch die Materie der Erde. Diese war durchsichtig geworden, und sie ließ nur das Geistige der Sonne durch. Aber mit diesem Schauen der Sonne war etwas wesentlich anderes verbunden, mit diesem Schauen der Sonne zeigte sich jetzt etwas höchst Merkwürdiges. Es zeigte sich nämlich jetzt in seiner Wahrheit dasjenige, worauf wir gestern in abstrakter Weise hingedeutet haben, daß tatsächlich eine lebendige Wechselwirkung besteht zwischen all dem, was zu unserem Sonnensystem gehört als Planeten, und der Sonne selber, dadurch, daß fortdauernd Ströme gehen von den Planeten zur Sonne und von der Sonne zu den Planeten. Kurz, es zeigte sich da draußen geistig etwas, was sich vergleichen läßt mit etwas im Leben, was jeder kennt, nämlich mit dem Zirkulieren des Blutes im menschlichen Leibe. Wie das Blut von dem Herzen zu den Organen geht und von den Organen wiederum zurück zum Herzen in lebendigem Kreislauf, wie dieser lebendige Blutkreislauf, so zeigt sich die Sonne als der Mittelpunkt lebendiger Geistesströmungen, welche von der Sonne zu den Planeten und von den Planeten zurück zur Sonne fließen. Das ganze Sonnensystem zeigt sich als lebendiges geistiges System; wir erblicken in der Tat unser Sonnensystem als Geistiges, von dem das Äußere wirklich nur ein Gleichnis ist.
Alles, was der Mensch erleben lernt dadurch, daß er seine Empfindungsfähigkeit steigert, wie es jetzt geschildert worden ist, das entzieht sich als das Geistige des Weltenraumes dem gewöhnlichen Tagesanblicke. Es wird auch dem nächtlichen Anblick verdeckt. Denn was sieht der Mensch in der Nacht mit seinen gewöhnlichen Fähigkeiten, wenn er hinaufsieht in den Himmelsraum? Davon sieht er im Grunde genommen ebenso nur die Außenseite, wie von seinem eigenen Inneren, so daß dasjenige, was wir am Sternenhimmel sehen, der Leib ist eines Geistigen, das ihm zugrunde liegt. Wie wir, wenn wir auf unseren Leib mit unseren Augen sehen, den äußeren Ausdruck des Geistigen in uns sehen, so sieht der Mensch, wenn er des Nachts den gestirnten Himmel sieht, allerdings einen wunderbaren Bau, aber dieser ist der materielle Leib des kosmischen Geistes, der sich durch diesen Leib ausspricht in allen seinen Bewegungen, die uns äußerlich entgegentreten. Und wieder ist es so, daß für das gewöhnliche menschliche Bewußtsein sozusagen ein Schleier vorgezogen wird, ein Schleier sich ausbreitet vor alles das, was der Mensch sehen würde, wenn er geistig durchschauen würde, wie es jetzt geschildert worden ist, was sich ihm im Raume darbietet. Wie wir behütet werden vor unserem eigenen Innern, so werden wir im gewöhnlichen Leben behütet vor dem Schauen des Geistigen, das der äußeren materiellen Welt zugrunde liegt. Wenn wir im gewöhnlichen Leben stehen, so breitet sich das, was wir den Sinnesschleier nennen, aus vor dem, was geistig zugrunde liegt. Warum geschieht dies? Es gibt ein Gefühl, das sofort auftreten würde, wenn die Menschen das Geistige so ohne weiteres sehen würden. Wenn der Mensch das Geistige sofort sehen würde, ohne die Vorbereitung und Reife, die er durch das Miterleben der Naturvorgänge erwirbt, so würde er ein Gefühl erleben, das man nur ausdrücken könnte mit dem Wort: verwirrender Schreck, oder schrekkenvollste Verwirrung. Denn die Erscheinungen sind so großartig und gewaltig, daß die menschlichen Begriffe, die wir uns im gewöhnlichen Leben aneignen, wenn wir noch so viel erlernen, wahrhaftig nicht hinreichen, um diesen verwirrenden Anblick zu ertragen; der Mensch würde von einem Gefühle schreckvoller Verwirrung ergriffen werden, von einer ungeheuren Steigerung des Angst- und Furchtgefühles. So wie der Mensch von Scham verbrennen würde, wenn er in sein eigenes Innere hinuntersteigen würde ohne Vorbereitung, so würde er, wenn er in das Geistige der Außenwelt hineinsehen würde ohne Vorbereitung, förmlich erstarren vor Furcht, weil er sich wie in ein Labyrinth geführt empfinden würde. Nur dann, wenn die Seele sich vorbereitet durch solche Begriffe und Vorstellungen, welche sie über das gewöhnliche Erleben hinausführen, dann kann sie nach und nach sich gewöhnen, hinter die Sinneswelt zu schauen. Heute ist es ja durch das intellektuelle Leben nicht möglich - das wurde schon angedeutet -, daß der Mensch das durchmacht, was die Menschen damals in den nordischen Mysterien erlebten. Durch sein intellektuelles Leben kann der Mensch nicht mehr diese Steigerung der Frühlings- und Herbstempfindungen erleben. Heute denken die Menschen ganz, ganz anders als damals. Das Denken war dazumal noch nicht so ausgebildet. Die Intellektualität entwickelte sich erst nach und nach. Und mit der Entwickelung der Intellektualität ging für den Menschen auch die Möglichkeit verloren, solches durchzumachen. Aber der Mensch kann es in einer gewissen Beziehung im Spiegelbilde durchmachen auf eine indirekte Weise, dadurch, daß er diese Empfindungen nicht an den äußeren Naturvorgängen selbst erlebt, sondern an den Schilderungen und Beschreibungen, welche ihm aus geistigem Schauen heraus über die geistige Welt und ihre Zusammenhänge gegeben werden. Deshalb müssen heute in unserer Gegenwart allmählich solche Beschreibungen für die Menschen geliefert werden, wie sie zum Beispiel - ich sage das nicht aus Unbescheidenheit, sondern weil es gefordert ist - gegeben werden in meinem eben erschienenen Buch «Die Geheimwissenschaft». Da wird etwas von der Welt geschildert, was man äußerlich nicht wahrnehmen kann, und zwar aus einer Grundlage heraus - wir werden das noch sehen -, aus der so etwas geschildert werden kann; es wird geschildert, was der Welt geistig zugrunde liegt, und was derjenige sehen kann, der sich auf jene Weise vorbereitet hat, welche eben dargestellt worden ist. Ein solches Buch darf nicht gelesen werden wie ein anderes Buch - dazu ist es nicht da -, sondern es soll so gelesen werden, daß die Begriffe und Ideen, die darin enthalten sind, Gefühle auslösen, daß man wirklich in der vollen Stärke das in der Seele empfindet, was da in Begriffen und Ideen gegeben ist. Wenn man das so liest, daß man die stärksten Empfindungserlebnisse durchmacht in der Seele, dann sind diese Empfindungserlebnisse ähnlich, wie diejenigen waren, welche in jenen nordischen Mysterien Europas erlebt worden sind.
Wir finden in diesem Buche eine Schilderung all der früheren Verkörperungen unserer Erde, finden geschildert einen Saturn-, einen Sonnen- und einen Mondzustand. Wenn Sie das, was als Schilderungen sich da findet, nicht lesen, wie man etwas Theoretisches liest, sondern, wenn Sie mitgehen mit dem, was da geschildert ist, wenn Sie achtgeben, wie da geschildert ist, so finden Sie da einen Unterschied des Stiles bei der Schilderung des alten Saturnzustandes und bei der Schilderung des Sonnenzustandes und bei der des Mondzustandes. Wenn Sie das, was über den Saturn gesagt wird, auf sich wirken lassen, dann können Sie etwas wiederfinden von der Frühlingsstimmung des nordischen Mysterienschülers, und in der Schilderung der Sonne haben Sie etwas, was dem Gefühl ähnlich ist, das den Mysterienschüler ergriff beim Aufjauchzen in der Johannisnacht. Es ist nicht umsonst, daß das Buch so lange hat auf sich warten lassen, denn es ist Wert darauf gelegt, daß die Schilderungen dazu angetan sind, in uns Gefühle wachzurufen, welche ähnlich sind den Stimmungen der Schüler in den nordischen Mysterien. Und wenn wir zu der Schilderung der Erdenentwickelung kommen und alles das beachten, wie dort der ganze Stil geformt ist, dann werden wir eine Stimmung haben, wie sie sein soll, wenn es gegen den Winter zu geht, gegen den 21. Dezember, die Wintersonnenwende. Sie erweckt Todeswehmut, und das geht dann über in die Weihnachtsstimmung. Das kann heute gegeben werden anstelle dessen, was der Mensch heute nicht mehr durchmachen kann, weil er eben von einem Leben in der Empfindung sich erhoben hat zur Intellektualität, zum Denken. Daher muß heute durch den Spiegel des Denkens Gefühl und Empfindung wiederum angeregt werden, die sich ursprünglich an der Natur selber entzündet haben. So müssen heute die geisteswissenschaftlichen Schriften abgefaßt sein, sie müssen abgelesen sein in bezug auf ihre Stimmung dem Jahresgang des Weltenwerdens. Wenn man nur theoretisch schildert, dann ist das ganz sinnlos, dann führt das zu nichts anderem, als daß man die geistigen Dinge sich aneignet wie die Dinge eines Kochbuches. Der Unterschied zwischen geisteswissenschaftlichen und anderen Büchern liegt nicht darin, daß man andere Dinge schildert, sondern hauptsächlich in dem Wie, in demjenigen, wie die Dinge gegeben werden. Daraus werden Sie ersehen, was geisteswissenschaftlichen Büchern zugrunde liegen muß, daß aus gewissen Tiefen heraus die Dinge geholt sind; daß, wie es die Aufgabe unserer Zeit ist, das darin sein muß, was auf dem Umwege durch die Gedanken wiederum die Gefühle entzünden kann.
Was müssen wir nun beachten, um auch heute eine Möglichkeit zu haben, etwas zu finden, das uns aus der Verwirrung wiederum herausbringt, in die die menschliche Seele gerät, wenn sie sich in das Labyrinth der geistigen kosmischen Ereignisse begibt? Nun, wenn der Mensch sich in dieses Labyrinth begibt, so braucht er einen Führer. Das ist etwas, auf das uns prophetisch schon das griechische Volk hingewiesen hat, das zuerst vorbereitet hat das Denken. In der nördlichen elementaren, ursprünglichen Bevölkerung waren noch lange die Fähigkeiten vorhanden, die große Schrift der Natur zu lesen, zu einer Zeit, als die Griechen sich schon zu einem höheren Standpunkt der Intellektualität entwickelt hatten. Und die Griechen mußten dasjenige vorbereiten, was wir heute in höherem Maße ausbilden müssen. Es hätte eine solche «Geheimwissenschaft» zwar in Griechenland noch nicht geschrieben werden können, aber es ist in anderer Weise demjenigen, der sich hineinwagte in das Labyrinth der geistigen kosmischen Welt, durch die Griechen ein Bild gegeben worden für die Möglichkeit, einen Faden zu haben, durch den er sich aus der Verwirrung des Labyrinths wiederum zurückfinden kann. Das wird uns in der Legende von Theseus angedeutet, der sich mit dem Faden der Ariadne in das Labyrinth begibt. Für die heutige Zeit ist dieser Ariadnefaden nichts anderes als ein Bild für die Begriffe, die wir in der Seele über die übersinnliche Welt ausbilden sollen. Es ist das geistige Wissen, das uns geboten wird durch die Geisteswissenschaft, damit wir mit Sicherheit hineingehen können in dieses Labyrinth der geistigen Welt des Makrokosmos. So soll dasjenige, was uns heute in der Geisteswissenschaft gegeben wird, was zunächst nur zur Vernunft spricht, ein Ariadnefaden sein, welcher uns über alle Verwirrung hinweghilft, in die wir kommen könnten, wenn wir unvorbereitet hineinkommen in die geistige Welt des Makrokosmos.
So sehen wir, daß in der Tat der Mensch, wenn er den Geist in der Außenwelt finden will, ein Gebiet durchschreiten muß, das er im normalen Leben unbewußt durchschreitet; er muß jenen Strom, der ihm das Bewußtsein nimmt, bewußt durchschreiten. Wenn dann der Mensch auf sich wirken läßt entweder das, was wir gezeigt haben als Empfindungen, die aus dem Werden der Natur selber heraus entzündet werden, oder durch Begriffe und Ideen, die wir eben charakterisiert haben, wenn der Mensch sich so entwickelt, dann erlangt er allmählich die Fähigkeit, furchtlos an jene geistige Macht heranzutreten, welche ihm sonst Furcht und Schrecken einflößen müßte. Es ist der große Hüter der Schwelle, der vor der großen geistigen Welt steht, unwahrnehmbar für das gewöhnliche Bewußtsein. Er wird nur wahrnehmbar für den, der sich in der gehörigen Weise vorbereitet. So daß derjenige, der sich vorbereitet hat, hinauszuschreiten in die große geistige Welt, in den geistigen Makrokosmos, furchtlos vor einer jeglichen Verwirrung, die ihn treffen könnte, vorüberkommt an dem großen Hüter der Schwelle, der uns auch zeigt, wie unbedeutend wir noch sind und wie wir neue Organe entwickeln müssen, wenn wir in diese große Welt, in den geistigen Makrokosmos hineinwachsen wollen. Mutlos und verzagt würde der Mensch dastehen, wenn er unvorbereitet an diesen großen Hüter der Schwelle herankäme.
Nun haben wir geschildert, wie der Mensch sozusagen eingeschlossen ist in zwei Grenzen. Aufmerksam gemacht darauf haben wir schon im letzten Vortrage; heute haben wir genauer geschildert, wie der Mensch eingeschlossen ist zwischen jene zwei Tore. Vor dem einen steht der kleine Hüter der Schwelle und an dem anderen der große Hüter der Schwelle. Das eine Tor führt in das menschliche Innere, in den Geist des Mikrokosmos, das andere in den Geist des Makrokosmos. Nun müssen wir uns aber auch klar darüber sein, daß aus diesem selben Makrokosmos, in den wir also hineingeführt werden, die Kräfte kommen, welche uns selber aufbauen. Woher ist denn das Material genommen für unseren physischen Leib und für unseren Äther- oder Lebensleib? Dasjenige, was unseren physischen Leib aufbaut, was unseren Ätherleib aufbaut, alle die Kräfte, die da zusammenströmen, um dasjenige, was so weisheitsvoll ist, aufzubauen, all das tritt uns wirklich ausgebreitet in der großen Welt entgegen. Da tritt uns, wenn wir vorbeigegangen sind an dem großen Hüter der Schwelle, nicht nur Erkenntnis über den Makrokosmos entgegen. Erkenntnisse kann man sich erwerben. Wenn man aber die Erkenntnisse der großen Welt erworben hat, dann hat man noch nicht seinen Eingang gefunden in die Welt der Wirkungen und Kräfte. Denn aus den Erkenntnissen heraus könnte unser Leib nicht aufgebaut werden; er muß aus Kräften aufgebaut werden. Wir kommen also, wenn wir an dem großen Hüter der Schwelle vorbeigekommen sind, an diesem merkwürdigen geheimnisvollen geistigen Wesen, in eine Welt unbekannter Wirkungen und Kräfte hinein. Von dieser Welt muß man sagen, daß der Mensch zunächst nichts davon weiß, weil sich der Schleier der Sinneswelt davor ausbreitet. Das sind aber die Kräfte, die in uns hineinfließen, aus denen zusammengeronnen sind unser physischer und unser Äther- oder Lebensleib. Dieses ganze Zusammenspiel, die Wechselwirkungen zwischen der großen Welt und der kleinen Welt, von Wirkungen zwischen dem, was da drinnen ist, und dem, was da draußen ist und sich durch den Sinnesschleier verbirgt, sind enthalten in dem verwirrenden Labyrinth. Da treten wir in ein lebendiges Leben hinein. Dieses lebendige Leben ist das, was wir zunächst auch schildern müssen, und wir wollen morgen damit beginnen, daß wir den ersten Einblick erhalten in das, was der Mensch zwar nicht wahrnehmen kann, was sich aber in ihm doch als Wirkungen zeigt, wie wir gesehen haben, wenn er durch das eine oder durch das andere Tor schreitet, wenn er vorbeikommt an dem kleinen Hüter der Schwelle und an dem großen Hüter der Schwelle.
Third Lecture
With yesterday's lecture—I would like to note this so that no misunderstanding arises—nothing was intended to be proven in any direction, but rather it was only to be pointed out at the end that, based on certain perceptions, spiritual researchers of past times felt compelled to to use equivalent names to describe certain processes and things in the heavenly sphere or our planetary system, and to use the same names for other processes in our own daily and nightly experience. The lecture was therefore intended more to provide, so to speak, the concepts we will need for our next presentations. In general, the lectures given in this cycle must be regarded as a whole, and the first lectures are actually intended, in the broadest sense, to introduce the ideas and concepts necessary for understanding the spiritual worlds, which will then be communicated in the following lectures. Today, too, we will in a certain sense continue to build on what has already been said in order to gradually ascend to more distant spiritual realms.
In the first lectures of this cycle, we saw, and were also able to gather some insights from the two public lectures, that in relation to his inner being, that is, in relation to what what we have divided into the actual I and the astral body of the human being, lives in a spiritual world and, upon awakening, returns to that which remains in bed during the state of sleep, to his physical body and his etheric or life body. Now, anyone who observes life will soon see that this transition from the sleeping to the waking state actually involves a complete change of experience. What we experience in the waking state is by no means a perception or knowledge that we gain from the two members of human nature into which we immerse ourselves when we wake up. We immerse ourselves in our etheric or life body and in our physical body, but we do not get to know them during the waking state in such a way that we can look at them from within. What does the human being in ordinary life know about what his etheric or life body and his physical body look like when viewed from within? This is precisely the essence of waking experience: we view our own being, as it exists in the physical world, from the outside and not from within. We see our own physical body from the outside with the same eyes with which we see the rest of the physical world. We never view our own being from within during the waking state, but always only from the outside. So, basically, we only get to know ourselves as human beings from the outside, through observation, as beings of the sensory world. If we take a close look at the state that can be characterized as the transition from sleeping to waking, we have to ask: What would it be like if we really looked at ourselves from the inside as we submerged into the etheric or life body and into the physical body? We would then see something completely different. What we would see would be the intimate experiences that the mystic seeks and which we have already hinted at a little. The mystic seeks to divert attention from the external world, to silence everything that enters his eye, to really descend into his inner being. But if we disregard these experiences of the mystic for the moment, we can say that in life we are protected from looking into our inner being, because the moment we wake up, our gaze is diverted to the external world. So that waking up can be described as follows: instead of looking at ourselves from within, at the moment of waking up our gaze is diverted to the external world, to the tapestry of senses around us, and our own physical body belongs to this external tapestry of senses when we look at it while awake. - In the waking state, we therefore lose the ability to look at ourselves from within. It is as if we were being carried along by a stream: when we are asleep, we are on this side of the stream; when we are awake, we are on the other side. If we were able to perceive something on this side of the stream, we would, as we shall see later, perceive our astral body and our ego. But we are protected from perceiving our inner being in the state of sleep, because when we fall asleep, the possibility of perception ceases, consciousness ceases.
Thus, a sharp boundary is drawn between our inner and outer worlds. We cross this boundary when we fall asleep and wake up, but we cannot cross it without actually losing something. When we cross the boundary as we fall asleep, our consciousness ceases and we can no longer observe the spiritual world. When we wake up, our consciousness is immediately diverted to the external world, and we can no longer observe the spiritual realm that underlies our own being, because our consciousness is taken up by external experiences. What we cross over, what obscures the spiritual in us at the moment we wake up, what allows us to perceive the spiritual only as if through a veil, is nothing other than something that interposes itself between our sentient soul and our etheric or life body and our physical body. What covers the latter two members, what covers them when we wake up, we call the sentient body. This is the reason why we see the outer sense curtain. At the moment we wake up, the sentient body is completely taken over by the outer sense carpet, and we cannot look inside ourselves. Thus, this sentient body stands like a boundary between what spiritually underlies the outer sense world and our inner experience.
We will see that this is necessary for human life, because what a person would see if they consciously passed through this stream, they must not see in the normal course of their life, because they would not be able to bear it, because they must first prepare themselves to see it. And mystical development does not consist in forcing one's way into the inner world of our etheric or life body and our physical body, but in first preparing oneself, in first maturing oneself to see what one can then see when one consciously passes through this stream. What would happen to a person who wanted to dive unprepared into their inner being, who did not want to see an outer world when they woke up, but wanted to penetrate into their own inner world, into that which spiritually underlies our etheric or life body and our physical body? Well, such a person would experience a feeling of tremendous strength in their soul, which in ordinary life is only known in a very weakened form. A feeling that is only faintly known in ordinary life would overwhelm the person if they could enter their inner being with full attention upon awakening. Through a kind of comparison, you will first be able to grasp the concept of this feeling—again, this is not meant to prove anything, but only to provide some terms.
There is something in human beings called a sense of shame. This sense of shame consists in the fact that when a person is ashamed of something in their soul, they want to divert the attention of others from the thing or quality of which they are ashamed. This sense of shame for something that is within a person and that they do not want to reveal is a faint hint of that feeling which would grow to tremendous strength if a person could consciously look into their own inner being when they awaken. This feeling would take hold of the human soul with such force that the person would feel it poured out over everything that came their way. He would have an experience comparable to the feeling of perishing in fire. This feeling of shame would affect him like a kind of burning. Why would it have this effect on man? This feeling of shame would have this effect on man because at that moment he would feel how perfect his physical body and his etheric or life body actually are in relation to what he is as a soul being. One can already form a concept of how the physical body and the etheric or life body are perfect in relation to what man is as a soul being by means of ordinary logic. Anyone who, purely from an external point of view, penetrates the marvelous structure of, say, the human heart or the human brain in all its details through physical science, or even, for my sake, penetrates just one piece of the human skeletal system with its marvelous structure, will already be able to feel how infinitely wise and perfect this human body is constructed. If one takes a single piece of bone, for example the thigh bone, and observes how infinitely wise and perfect the beams are joined together in a fine network so that with the least expenditure of matter the greatest strength and load-bearing capacity is produced, which carries the upper part of the human body, or if one considers the wonderful structure of the human heart and brain, then one can already get an idea of what one would experience if one could see the whole thing from the inside, how it has sprung forth from the depths of wisdom. If we compare this with what man is as a soul being, what he is in relation to his pleasures, passions, and desires, we see how man is actually bent on ruining the wonderful structure of the physical body. Throughout his whole life, he develops his desires, instincts, and passions and is basically bent on ruining the marvelous structure of the physical heart and brain. What we observe in ordinary life, how human beings ruin their hearts and brains by indulging in this or that stimulant, is, so to speak, only the trivial beginnings of a destructive activity on the marvelous structure of the human body. All this would stand vividly before the human soul if it would consciously descend into its etheric or life body and into its physical body. And it would be something tremendously devastating, something annihilating for human beings if they could compare the imperfection of the human soul with the miracle of the body, if they could see what is in their soul and compare it with how the wise world government has made their physical and etheric bodies, into which they descend every morning when they wake up. That is why he is protected from consciously descending into his own inner being; he is distracted by what spreads out before his senses all day long as an outer sensory carpet. He cannot look into his inner being.
The comparison between the human soul and that which lies spiritually behind the physical and etheric or life body would give rise to a feeling of shame, and this feeling is prepared by all those soul experiences that the mystic goes through before he becomes worthy to descend into his inner being. It is precisely the experiences of the mystic that evoke in his soul the strongest possible intention to perceive his soul as insignificant, as weak, as having an infinitely long path of perfection ahead of it. Therefore, the mystic must awaken in his soul the feelings of humility and the longing for perfection, so that they prepare him to endure the comparison; otherwise he would burn with shame as if in fire. The mystic prepares himself for this by thinking: “Certainly, when I look at what I am and compare it with what the wise guidance of the world has made of me, I must realize how small, how bad, how low I still am. And the feeling of shame, which outwardly causes a blush, would grow so strong that it could really become a scorching, burning fire, if the mystic could not say to himself: Yes, now I feel as small as possible in relation to what I can become, but I will try to develop the strong forces within me that will enable me to correspond spiritually to what the wise world guidance has built into my physical being. The spiritual teacher makes it clear to the mystic who wants to go within himself that he must first feel a sense of humility that goes, so to speak, to infinity. This feeling can be described as follows. One can say to the budding mystic: Look at the plant. The plant is rooted in the soil. The soil offers it a realm that is lower than the plant kingdom. But the plant cannot live without this realm, which must initially be considered lower. When the plant bends down toward the mineral realm, it can say: I owe my existence to this lower realm from which I have grown. It must bow in humility to the lower realm and say: I owe my existence to you. In the same way, animals owe their existence to the plant realm. If it became aware of its position in the world structure, it would have to bow in humility to the lower realm. And the human being who looks around him in the world would have to say: Actually, I could not have reached this stage if everything below me had not developed in the appropriate way. When man develops such feelings in his soul, he is filled with the mood that he actually has reason not only to look up with gratitude to what is above him, but also to look with gratitude at what is below him. When what can be called education in humility spreads properly in the soul, then the soul is filled and permeated with this feeling of humility, this sense of humility that one still has an infinitely long way to go to become perfect.
Everything that has been said now cannot be exhausted with concepts and ideas. If one could do that, then the mystic would soon be finished. But it cannot be exhausted with concepts and ideas; it can only be experienced. Only those who experience such feelings again and again spread throughout their soul the fundamental mood that is necessary for the mystic. If a person wants to mature, to descend into their inner being, then they must develop that feeling which enables them to endure whatever may stand in their way if they want to become more and more perfect. He must develop a feeling of devotion to what he must endure in order to approach a certain level of perfection. Over a long, long period of time, the mystic must develop within himself the feeling that only by overcoming suffering can one develop the strong forces needed to bring the soul out of that state in which it must feel weak in the face of what stands in its way. The soul must allow itself to be influenced by the feeling that keeps telling it: No matter how much pain I may suffer, I will stand upright in the face of it, I will not waver; for if I were to enjoy only the happiness that life brings me, I would never be able to develop the strong power that the human soul needs. Strength is gained through resistance, through overcoming obstacles, not by simply accepting a situation. Strength is only tempered by straining it to overcome obstacles, by being prepared to endure suffering and pain with resignation. This is something that the mystic develops in his soul when he wants to prepare himself to descend into his own inner being without burning with shame.
Of course, people do not have to go through all this in normal life, and no one should believe that any spiritual science expects ordinary people to undergo such exercises. What is described here is not something that makes demands, but is done to tell what those who voluntarily take on a number of such experiences can do with their souls, and what the mystic strives for; he makes his soul capable of descending into this human inner being. In the normal course of life, however, between what one can experience inwardly as a mystic and what one experiences in the outer world, the human sentient body intervenes and protects the human being from entering unprepared into his inner being and, so to speak, burning with shame. What it is that protects people from descending unprepared into their inner being cannot, of course, be experienced in the normal course of life, for there they already reach the boundary of the spiritual world. The spiritual researcher who wants to explore the human inner being must, however, cross this boundary. The spiritual researcher must therefore pass through the stream that distracts ordinary, normal human consciousness from the inner to the outer. This ordinary, normal human consciousness is protected from entering the human inner life in an immature state; it is protected from burning up in the fire of its own shame. The power that protects human beings every morning when they wake up from entering their own inner being is invisible to them. It is the first spiritual being that the genuine, real spiritual researcher encounters on the path that leads into his inner being. He must pass by that being which, in normal consciousness, protects him from burning up inwardly, from an inner fire. They must pass by the entity that distracts their inward gaze from the outer world, from the outer sensory carpet. The effect of this entity is felt by normal consciousness. Human beings cannot see it, for it is already the first spiritual entity we must pass by if we want to enter the spiritual world. And this spiritual entity, which stands beside the human being every morning and protects him from looking spiritually into his own inner being in an immature state, we call in spiritual science the little guardian of the threshold. The path into the spiritual world leads past this little guardian of the threshold.
Thus, we have first led our consciousness from the most obvious experiences of the day to the boundary where we can sense what the spiritual researcher sees as the little guardian of the threshold. We will describe this little guardian of the threshold later, because we want to start from the familiar and gradually approach the unknown. This already suggests that we do not actually see our true nature in our everyday consciousness, in the waking state. And if we call our own nature, in the sense of the last two lectures, the microcosm, the little world, then we can say: We never actually see the microcosm in its true spiritual form, but only what it shows us in its normal state, only its outer appearance. So it is really something that can be compared to a kind of mirror image. Just as when we look in the mirror we see our image and not ourselves, so when we are in our daily consciousness we do not see the microcosm, the actual essence of the human being, but only its mirror image; we see the microcosm in the mirror image.
Do we then see the macrocosm in its reality? Let us again consider some very obvious everyday experiences. What does a person experience in the course of twenty-four hours in the sensory world? In the sensory world, a person also experiences a change between day and night, as in the microcosm, only now this change occurs in the external world. He experiences how the sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. They experience how the sunlight first illuminates all the objects around them. What is it that humans see from sunrise to sunset? Basically, they do not see the objects themselves, but rather the sunlight that they reflect back to them. We cannot see an object in the dark. Humans cannot see an object that is not illuminated. What applies to the eye can also be said for the other senses, but let us stick with the eye for now. When you look at the sun, your eyes are blinded. Therefore, you can never really perceive the sun itself. Basically, humans perceive the sun's rays that are reflected back to them from the outside world. They do not perceive objects, but rather the reflected sun's rays. This happens from morning to evening. But human beings see only in a very imperfect way that which is the cause of their seeing external things, for that which enables you to perceive an external sensory world at all during the day blinds you. This is an image, a parable. Just as we relate to the external sensory world, so we relate to our own inner world. We never see the cause of why we perceive things. We perceive things, but we cannot rise above that which makes things perceptible to us. It blinds us like the sun when we try to perceive it as the reason for the visibility of objects. This is how we experience the external sun during the day in a very similar way to how we experience our own inner world when we wake up. We live within ourselves. The forces within us enable us to live and perceive the outside world, but they also prevent us from perceiving ourselves. It is just like with the sun; it enables us to perceive things, but it blinds us when we want to perceive it ourselves.
But we also cannot perceive everything that is connected to the sun in a certain way, everything else that belongs to the sun, during the day. We perceive what our earth shows us in the reflected sunlight. When we look out into space, we also do not see what belongs to our solar system. Our solar system does not only include the sun, it also includes the planets. We cannot see them during the day. So the sun not only blinds us to itself during the day, but also to such an extent that we cannot see the planets during the day. We look out into space and know that even though the planets that belong to our solar system are out there, they are hidden from our view. We can therefore say that just as our own inner being is hidden from us during the day, just as the spiritual world is hidden from us at night when we are in our normal state of sleep, so too are the causes of our sensory perception hidden from us during the day when we look out and survey the sensory world. That which actually underlies the sun, that which connects the sun with the other bodies of the solar system, with the beings we see in their outer expression, in what we call Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and so on, that living interaction between the sun and these bodies, is hidden from us during the day. What we perceive is an effect of sunlight. And if we now compare this state with the state in which the sensory world around us is in the night from sunset to sunrise, we can then perceive in a certain way what belongs to our solar system. We can gaze out at the wonderfully starry sky, where the planets present themselves to our view. But while we can see the planets belonging to our solar system in the night sky, the sun itself eludes us; the sun is invisible to us. So we must say: that which makes our sensory world visible to us during the day takes away our ability to see it at night. It eludes us, enveloping our entire sensory world in imperceptibility at night, and we see only that which belongs to our sun; we see only the planetary world.
Is there now a possibility of creating something similar for the night state, as it were, similar to the state of the mystic when he descends into the inner world, as we have described it? Is there something similar? Modern humanity is not very aware of this similar state, but there is such a thing. It consists in the fact that human beings, like mystics, develop certain qualities of humility and devotion, as well as certain other qualities, which we can understand by first considering the simplest of these qualities. Let us again start with a very simple quality. Human beings also have it in normal life, but only weakly, just like the sense of shame. When human beings magnify this feeling, which they have only weakly in ordinary life and which we will characterize in a moment, to enormous proportions, they actually prepare themselves to experience something completely different at night than in normal consciousness. And this feeling that human beings must develop within themselves is the following. You all know that we can feel differently in spring than in autumn. A healthy soul will feel differently in spring than in autumn. A healthy soul will feel differently when the buds sprout on the trees in spring and promise us, so to speak, the beauty and glory of summer. It is something that pours into our soul with awakening hope when we see spring approaching. This feeling is only faintly developed in ordinary people, but it is there nonetheless. And when we then live through autumn, this feeling that is there in spring as hope for summer, which feels like an awakening of the soul, can turn into a feeling of melancholy when we see the trees losing their leaves, when we see how, in place of trees and flowers which have given us such a wonderful sight throughout the summer, are replaced by bare bushes and broom-like structures. Our soul life is transformed; it is permeated by what we might call melancholy of the heart. So, in the course of the year, if we follow the phenomena of external life, we experience a cycle of the soul throughout the year. And since these feelings, which have just been characterized, these spring and autumn feelings, are only weakly developed in normal life, so that human beings do not feel the intensification of the spring feeling to the same degree as summer approaches, nor do they feel the transformation of the melancholy of autumn into an even deeper feeling when the earth spreads out around us completely covered in its winter garb.
However, it was in such feelings that spiritual students were educated and are still educated today—those who want to follow the path opposite to that of the mystic. While the mystic is led down into his inner self, those who want to follow the opposite path are led out into the cycle of the great nature and educated in such a way that they experience the events of the great nature. His soul is treated in such a way that he learns to feel strongly what one feels only weakly in ordinary life in spring, so that he learns to empathize with the whole sprouting of vegetation in spring. If he is able to immerse himself completely, to forget himself, and to experience springtime nature, then this experience becomes something very special as summer approaches. It develops from the awakening hope of spring into a complete inner exultation in summer. This is what someone who is, so to speak, a reverse mystic is taught to do. And again, when a person has reached the point where they have learned to experience the melancholy of autumn in self-forgetfulness, heightened to the highest degree, then they can also become capable of experiencing the intensification of feeling from the melancholy of autumn to the empathy with the death of the whole of nature in the middle of winter.
This was how, among others, those students were educated who participated in the feeling lessons in the ancient Nordic mysteries, which today are known to the outside world only as a tradition, only outwardly. The students were educated in such a way that they learned through special methods to participate in the annual cycle of nature with their feelings, in their souls. And everything that the student experienced in the summer at the time of St. John's Night meant rejoicing with the whole of nature. The fires of St. John's Night were something like a hint of the increase in the feeling of hope in spring to a rejoicing with nature in summer, when one experienced the breath of life passing through the whole cosmos. And at the winter solstice, the student felt in the depths of his soul the dying of nature, infinitely increasing the melancholy feeling of autumn until he felt the death itself.
Such were the emotional experiences, which in fact can hardly be experienced in this intensity by people today. For today's human beings, through the progress of intellectual life in recent centuries, are essentially incapable of those great, powerful experiences which the souls of the original nature peoples of the European continent, especially in the northern and central regions of Europe, went through. But then, when something like this had been experienced, something very peculiar indeed became apparent to those people who had thus heightened their inner soul experiences. They acquired a certain ability. Just as the mystic has the ability to descend into his own inner being, so they acquired the ability — strange as it may sound, but it is true, I am only describing things that countless people have experienced and can still experience — they acquired the ability to see through matter, that is, they could not only see what is perceived as the surface, but they could see through it; above all, they were able to see through our Earth from sunset to sunrise, and through the transparent Earth the Sun shone brightly upon them. In the ancient mysteries, this was called seeing the Sun at midnight. However, the sun could only be seen in its fullest and most glorious form if, during the winter solstice, one had approached that state with one's soul where the entire outer sensory world had died away. Then one had attained the ability to see the sun, not as a dazzling entity as it appears during the day, but with everything dazzling about the sun weakened; one no longer saw the sun as a physical entity outside, but as a spiritual entity. One saw the spirit of the sun. What had appeared as a physical effect, like a glare, was extinguished by the matter of the earth. This had become transparent and allowed only the spiritual aspect of the sun to pass through. But something else was connected with this seeing of the sun; something highly remarkable now became apparent. Namely, what we pointed out yesterday in an abstract way was now revealed in its truth: that there is indeed a living interaction between everything that belongs to our solar system as planets and the sun itself, through the fact that streams are constantly flowing from the planets to the sun and from the sun to the planets. In short, something spiritual was revealed out there that can be compared to something in life that everyone knows, namely the circulation of blood in the human body. Just as blood flows from the heart to the organs and from the organs back to the heart in a living cycle, so the Sun reveals itself as the center of living spiritual currents that flow from the Sun to the planets and from the planets back to the Sun. The entire solar system reveals itself as a living spiritual system; we actually see our solar system as something spiritual, of which the outer appearance is really only a parable.
Everything that human beings learn to experience by increasing their sensitivity, as has now been described, eludes the ordinary view of the world as the spiritual element of the universe. It is also hidden from our nighttime vision. For what does man see at night with his ordinary faculties when he looks up into the sky? He sees, in essence, only the outer side, just as he sees only the outer side of his own inner being, so that what we see in the starry sky is the body of a spiritual being that lies beneath it. Just as when we look at our body with our eyes we see the outer expression of the spiritual within us, so when we look at the starry sky at night we see a wonderful structure, but this is the material body of the cosmic spirit, which expresses itself through this body in all its movements that we perceive externally. And again, it is as if a veil is drawn before the ordinary human consciousness, a veil spreads before everything that a person would see if he could see spiritually, as has now been described, what presents itself to him in space. Just as we are protected from our own inner being, so in ordinary life we are protected from seeing the spiritual that underlies the outer material world. When we stand in ordinary life, what we call the veil of the senses spreads out before what lies spiritually underlying it. Why does this happen? There is a feeling that would arise immediately if people could see the spiritual world as it is. If human beings could see the spiritual world immediately, without the preparation and maturity they acquire through experiencing natural processes, they would experience a feeling that can only be expressed with the words: confusing terror, or most terrifying confusion. For the phenomena are so magnificent and powerful that the human concepts we acquire in ordinary life, no matter how much we learn, are truly insufficient to bear this confusing sight; humans would be seized by a feeling of terrifying confusion, by an immense increase in feelings of fear and dread. Just as a person would burn with shame if they were to descend into their own inner being without preparation, so would they, if they were to look into the spiritual world without preparation, literally freeze with fear, because they would feel as if they had been led into a labyrinth. Only when the soul has prepared itself through such concepts and ideas that take it beyond ordinary experience can it gradually become accustomed to looking behind the sensory world. Today, as has already been indicated, intellectual life makes it impossible for human beings to go through what people experienced in the Nordic mysteries. Through their intellectual life, people can no longer experience this intensification of spring and autumn feelings. Today, people think very, very differently than they did then. Thinking was not yet so developed at that time. Intellectuality developed only gradually. And with the development of intellectuality, people also lost the ability to go through such experiences. But human beings can experience it in a certain way, indirectly, through a mirror image, because they do not experience these feelings in the external processes of nature themselves, but through the descriptions and accounts given to them from spiritual vision about the spiritual world and its connections. That is why, in our present time, such descriptions must gradually be provided for people, as they are given, for example — I say this not out of immodesty, but because it is necessary — in my recently published book, The Secret Science. There, something of the world is described that cannot be perceived externally, and this is done on a basis — we shall see this later — from which such a thing can be described; what is described is what lies spiritually behind the world and what can be seen by those who have prepared themselves in the way just described. Such a book should not be read like any other book—that is not its purpose—but should be read in such a way that the concepts and ideas it contains trigger feelings, so that one truly feels in one's soul, with full intensity, what is given there in concepts and ideas. If one reads it in such a way that one experiences the strongest feelings in one's soul, then these feelings are similar to those that were experienced in the Nordic mysteries of Europe.
In this book we find a description of all the earlier incarnations of our earth, we find descriptions of a Saturn, a Sun, and a Moon state. If you do not read what is described there as something theoretical, but if you go along with what is described, if you pay attention to how it is described, you will find a difference in style between the description of the old Saturn state and the description of the Sun state and that of the Moon state. If you let what is said about Saturn sink in, you will rediscover something of the springtime mood of the Nordic mystery student, and in the description of the Sun you will find something similar to the feeling that seized the mystery student when he rejoiced on St. John's Night. It is not for nothing that the book has been so long in coming, for it is important that the descriptions are designed to awaken in us feelings similar to the moods of the students in the Nordic mysteries. And when we come to the description of the earth's development and consider how the whole style is formed there, we will have a mood that is appropriate for the time of year, as we approach winter, around December 21, the winter solstice. It awakens a melancholy for death, which then transitions into the Christmas mood. This can be given today in place of what human beings can no longer experience because they have risen from a life of feeling to intellectuality, to thinking. Therefore, feeling and sensation, which were originally kindled by nature itself, must be stimulated again today through the mirror of thinking. This is how spiritual scientific writings must be composed today; they must be read in relation to their mood in the course of the year of the world's becoming. If one merely describes things theoretically, then that is completely meaningless; it leads to nothing other than appropriating spiritual things as if they were recipes in a cookbook. The difference between spiritual science books and other books does not lie in the fact that they describe different things, but mainly in the way in which things are presented. From this you will see what must underlie spiritual science books, that things are drawn from certain depths; that, as is the task of our time, there must be something in them that can in turn ignite the feelings through the detour of the thoughts.
What must we now bear in mind in order to have a chance today of finding something that will lead us out of the confusion into which the human soul falls when it enters the labyrinth of spiritual cosmic events? Well, when human beings enter this labyrinth, they need a guide. This is something that the Greek people, who first prepared the way for thinking, already pointed out to us prophetically. In the northern, primitive population, the ability to read the great script of nature was still present for a long time, at a time when the Greeks had already developed to a higher level of intellectuality. And the Greeks had to prepare what we must now develop to a higher degree. Such a “secret science” could not yet have been written in Greece, but in another way, those who ventured into the labyrinth of the spiritual cosmic world were given an image by the Greeks of the possibility of having a thread through which they could find their way back out of the confusion of the labyrinth. This is hinted at in the legend of Theseus, who enters the labyrinth with Ariadne's thread. For our time, this thread of Ariadne is nothing other than an image for the concepts we are to form in our souls about the supersensible world. It is the spiritual knowledge offered to us by spiritual science so that we can enter with certainty into this labyrinth of the spiritual world of the macrocosm. Thus, what is given to us today in spiritual science, which at first appeals only to reason, is meant to be an Ariadne's thread that helps us overcome all the confusion we might encounter if we enter the spiritual world of the macrocosm unprepared.
Thus we see that in fact, if human beings want to find the spirit in the outer world, they must pass through a realm that they pass through unconsciously in normal life; they must consciously pass through the stream that takes away their consciousness. When human beings then allow themselves to be influenced either by what we have shown to be sensations that are kindled out of the becoming of nature itself, or by the concepts and ideas we have just characterized, when human beings develop in this way, they gradually acquire the ability to approach without fear that spiritual power which would otherwise inspire fear and terror in them. It is the great guardian of the threshold who stands before the great spiritual world, imperceptible to ordinary consciousness. He becomes perceptible only to those who have prepared themselves in the proper way. So that those who have prepared themselves to step out into the great spiritual world, into the spiritual macrocosm, fearless of any confusion that might befall them, pass by the great guardian of the threshold, who also shows us how insignificant we still are and how we must develop new organs if we want to grow into this great world, into the spiritual macrocosm. Human beings would stand there discouraged and despondent if they approached this great guardian of the threshold unprepared.
We have now described how human beings are, so to speak, enclosed within two boundaries. We already drew attention to this in the last lecture; today we have described in more detail how human beings are enclosed between these two gates. Before one gate stands the small guardian of the threshold, and before the other the great guardian of the threshold. One gate leads into the human interior, into the spirit of the microcosm, the other into the spirit of the macrocosm. But now we must also be clear that the forces that build us up come from this same macrocosm into which we are led. Where is the material taken from for our physical body and for our etheric or life body? That which builds our physical body, that which builds our etheric body, all the forces that flow together to build that which is so wise, all of this truly confronts us spread out in the great world. When we have passed the great guardian of the threshold, it is not only knowledge of the macrocosm that confronts us. Knowledge can be acquired. But once you have acquired knowledge of the great world, you have not yet found your way into the world of effects and forces. For our body cannot be built up from knowledge alone; it must be built up from forces. So when we pass the great guardian of the threshold, this strange, mysterious spiritual being, we enter a world of unknown effects and forces. It must be said that human beings initially know nothing of this world because the veil of the sensory world spreads out before it. But these are the forces that flow into us, from which our physical and etheric or life bodies are concocted. This whole interplay, the interactions between the big world and the small world, the effects between what is inside and what is outside and hidden by the veil of the senses, are contained in the confusing labyrinth. There we enter into a living life. This living life is what we must first describe, and tomorrow we will begin by gaining our first insight into what human beings cannot perceive, but which nevertheless manifests itself in them as effects, as we have seen when they pass through one gate or the other, when they pass by the little guardian of the threshold and the great guardian of the threshold.