The Rudolf Steiner Archive

1. Changes in the Human Body under the Influence of Esotericism

[ 1 ] I must speak to you, my dear friends, about a topic that may be important to many today—important to all those who, in whatever way, strive not merely to treat Spiritual Science as a theory, but to take it into their hearts and minds so that it becomes a true purpose in their lives; that it becomes something that flows into their entire human existence as people of the present.

[ 2 ] It will be important not only for the esotericist per se, but for anyone who wishes to take anthroposophical ideas into their soul, to learn something about the changes that the entire human being undergoes as a result of either performing the exercises described in my book *How Does One Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds?* or as briefly summarized in the second part of my “Secret Science,” or simply by making anthroposophical ideas their own with heart and soul. Anthroposophy, whether pursued esoterically or exoterically—but pursued seriously—simply brings about certain changes in the entire human constitution. One becomes—and this may be boldly asserted—a different person through anthroposophy; one transforms one’s entire human constitution. The physical body, the etheric body, the astral body, and the human being’s true self are all transformed in a certain way when a person truly takes anthroposophy into their inner being. And we shall discuss, in turn, the changes that these human sheaths undergo under the influence of esotericism or of anthroposophy practiced seriously in an exoteric manner.

[ 3 ] It is particularly difficult to speak about the changes in the physical human body, for the simple reason that, while these changes are indeed important and significant at the beginning of the anthroposophical or esoteric life, they are also, in a certain sense, often vague and minor. Important, significant changes take place in the physical body, but they are nevertheless external and imperceptible to any external knowledge. Nor can they be perceived for the simple reason that the physical is that which the human being has the least control over from within, and because dangers would immediately arise if esoteric exercises or anthroposophical practice were organized in such a way that the physical body undergoes changes exceeding the extent of what the human being is fully capable of mastering. The changes in the physical body remain within certain limits; but it is nevertheless important that the human being becomes aware of them, that they can be made clear to them.

[ 4 ] If we are to describe, in a few words, the changes that the physical human body undergoes as a result of the conditions mentioned, we must say: This physical human body first becomes more mobile and more alive within itself. More flexible—what does that mean? Well, in normal human life, we perceive the physical human body in such a way that its individual organs are in communication with one another, that its individual organs are, in a certain sense, connected to one another. The effects of the individual organs merge into one another. As a result of a person allowing esotericism or anthroposophy to take a serious effect upon them, the individual organs become more autonomous, more independent of one another. All the individual organs become more independent of one another. In a certain sense, the overall life of the physical body is subdued, and the independent life of the organs is strengthened. Even if the degree to which the overall life is subdued and the independent life of the organs is strengthened is immensely small, one must still say: Through the influence of esotericism and anthroposophy in general, the heart, the brain, the spinal cord—all the organs—become more autonomous, more alive, and more independent of one another, more internally mobile. If I were to speak in scholarly terms, I would have to say: The organs transition from a stable state of equilibrium to a more unstable state of equilibrium. This fact is worth knowing for the simple reason that people are very easily inclined, when they perceive something of this different state of equilibrium in their organs, to attribute it to the fact that they have become unwell or ill. They are not accustomed to perceiving the mobility and independence of the organs in this way. One only senses or perceives the organs when they function differently from the normal state. Now one senses, albeit initially in a very mild way, the organs becoming independent of one another; one might mistake this for feeling unwell or for falling ill. So you see how one must be cautious, especially when it comes to the physical human body: Of course, the same thing can be an illness at one time and merely a concomitant of the inner anthroposophical life at another. Therefore, it is necessary in every case to distinguish individually; but it must be said that what is achieved here through the anthroposophical life is certainly something that lies entirely within the normal course of human development anyway. In earlier times of human development, the individual organs were even more dependent on one another than they are now in external life, and in the future they will become increasingly independent. Just as those who profess anthroposophy must, in a sense, anticipate in the most diverse areas of life and knowledge certain stages of development that will only come to all of humanity in the future, so must they also, as it were, accept this stage of development in which their organs become more independent of one another. This can manifest itself in a gentle, mild manner in the individual organs and organ systems.

[ 5 ] I would like to cite a specific example. You are all familiar with the phenomenon that people—especially those who are rooted in the land, that is, those who do not travel much for work—have, in a certain sense, grown together with their soil. Go out to the countryside to visit the rural folk, and you will find that, to a much greater degree than among today’s urban population—which, after all, often seeks out stays in the countryside—people have grown together with their land and their climate, and that they have a hard time acclimating themselves, as it is called, when they are transferred to another region or another climate for one reason or another; that deep within the soul, in the form of an often insurmountable homesickness, the longing for the soil with which they have grown together lives on. This is meant to show us how necessary it is for a person—as we can also observe in other contexts when they come to a different region—to adapt their entire organism to that region, to that climate. In our normal life, this adaptation actually takes place within the entire human organism. Everything is affected in a certain way when we move from the plains to the mountains, or when we move to a somewhat distant region. For the esotericist or for those who seriously practice anthroposophy, it becomes noticeable that it is no longer the entire organism that is affected, but rather that the blood system separates itself and that the blood circulation, as it were, sets itself apart from the rest of the organism, and the blood circulation experiences the greater influence when a person moves from one region to another. And anyone who develops a certain sensitivity to this matter can notice that, in fact, the pulsation of their blood—the way their pulse beats—is noticeably affected simply by traveling from one place to another. While in a person who is not, so to speak, imbued with esotericism or an anthroposophical life, the nervous system is still heavily engaged by the necessary acclimatization, in one who is permeated by esotericism or a serious anthroposophical life, the nervous system will be engaged very little; it recedes; the intimate connection between the nervous and circulatory systems is severed by the anthroposophical inner life, and the circulatory system becomes, in a certain sense, more sensitive to the influences of climate and soil, while the nervous system becomes more independent.

[ 6 ] If you want evidence for such a thing, you must seek that evidence in the most natural way in which it can be found: namely, when you yourself find yourself in a similar situation, when you yourself go to another place. Try to pay attention to yourself, and you will see that this fact of occultism proves to be true. It is extremely important to take such a fact into account, simply because this fact gradually develops into a very specific capacity for perception. Through their blood, those who have become anthroposophists in their hearts perceive the character of a foreign city. They need not pay much attention to anything else: through their blood alone, they can already perceive how the regions of the earth differ from one another. In contrast, the nervous system, in turn, distinguishes itself from the entire organism in a different way. Anyone who immerses themselves in anthroposophy under the conditions described will gradually notice that they perceive, for example, the difference between the four seasons—namely the difference between summer and winter—in a completely different way than the average person of today. The average person of today actually feels, in their own physical body, for the most part, only the difference in temperature. Those who have made anthroposophy a part of their inner life in the manner described not only perceive the difference in temperature, but apart from that, they also have a special experience within their nervous system, so that it becomes easier for them, for example, to grasp certain thoughts connected to the physical brain in summer than in winter. Not that it is impossible to grasp these or those thoughts in winter; but one can clearly experience that it is easier in summer than in winter, that they flow more easily, so to speak, in summer than in winter. One can also observe that in winter thoughts tend to be more abstract, while in summer they become more pictorial and vivid. This stems from the fact that the instrument for the physical plane—the nervous system—resonates in a subtle way with the changing seasons, resonating internally in a manner more independent of the organism as a whole than is otherwise the case.

[ 7 ] A fundamental change in the physical human body, however, is that one begins—in ways that can take on quite alarming forms—to feel one’s physical body more strongly than before; it becomes, so to speak, more sensitive to the soul’s existence, and it becomes harder to bear. It is extremely difficult to grasp this clearly when it comes to explaining it; but imagine a glass containing water in which salt has been dissolved, so that the result is a cloudy liquid. Suppose—for the normal state of the human being—that the etheric body, astral body, and the Self are like the liquid, and the physical body is dissolved in it like the salt. Now let us allow the liquid here in the glass to cool down a little. The salt will slowly harden out, becoming heavier as it becomes more independent. In this way, the physical body hardens out of the entire structure of the four members of the human being; it shrinks, albeit to a slight degree. This is to be taken quite literally. It shrinks in a certain way. But you need not create a mental image of this too strongly, so that there is no need to fear that human beings will develop the deepest wrinkles through anthroposophical development. This shrinking is a process of becoming denser within oneself. As a result, however, it actually reveals itself as something that is harder to bear than before. One perceives it as less mobile than before. Added to this is the fact that the other limbs are now more easily movable. Thus, one perceives what one previously—when it was completely healthy—did not actually perceive in oneself, to which one quite comfortably said “I”; one perceives this afterward as something one carries within oneself as if it had become heavier, something one begins to feel in its entirety. And in particular, one begins to feel within one’s body all those inclusions that, so to speak, lead a certain existence within this physical body that is independent from the outset. And here we come to a question that can really only be fully understood in this context—but of course this is not meant to stir up agitation, but merely to present the truth—we come to the question of a meat-based diet.

[ 8 ] Since we are dealing here with the physical body, we must first consider the nature of animal and plant foods—indeed, of food in general. All of this is intended to form a section in the discussion of the influences of an anthroposophical life on the human sheaths, which can be characterized as the replenishment, the regeneration of this physical body from the outside in through what it takes in of external substance. One understands the relationship of the human being to their food properly when one considers the relationship of the human being to the other kingdoms of nature, first and foremost to the plant kingdom. The plant kingdom, as a kingdom of life, elevates inorganic substances—lifeless substances—to a certain level of organization. For the plant to become a living being, it is necessary that the lifeless substances be processed in a certain way—as in a living laboratory—up to a certain level of organization. Thus, in the plant we have before us a living being that brings the lifeless products of nature up to a certain level of organization. Human beings are now organized as physical organisms in such a way that they are able to take up the process of organization from the point where the plant has brought it, and then continue it from that point onward, so that the higher human organism arises when the human being further organizes what the plant has organized to a certain degree. The situation is precisely such that there is actually a complete continuation when a human being picks an apple or a leaf from a tree and eats it. That is the most complete continuation. If all things were such that the most natural course of action could always be taken, one could say: The most natural thing would be for the human being to simply continue the process of organization where the plant left off, that is, to take the plant organs as they present themselves externally, and from there to further organize them within oneself. This would result in a straight line of organization that would not be interrupted in any way: from inanimate matter to the plant, up to a certain point of organization, and from that point through to the human organism. Let us now take the crudest example: humans consume animals. In the animal, we have a living being that already carries the process of organization further than the plant, taking it beyond plant organization to a certain point. So that we can say of the animal that it continues the process of organization of the plant.

[ 9 ] Let us now assume that a person eats the animal. In a certain sense, the following occurs: the person no longer needs to expend the inner forces that he would have had to expend in the case of the plant. If he had had to begin organizing his food where the plant left off, he would have had to expend a certain amount of energy. This energy now remains unused when he eats the animal; for the animal has already raised the plant’s organization to a certain higher level; it is only there that the human being now needs to begin. We can therefore say: Human beings do not continue the organization where they could continue it, but rather leave forces within them unused and continue the organization later; they allow the animal to take over part of the work they would have to perform if they were to consume the plant. Now, the well-being of an organism does not consist in its doing as little as possible, but in its truly putting all its forces into action. When a human being consumes animal food, he does with those forces—which would develop organic activities if he ate only plants—something similar to what he would do if he were to forgo his left arm, binding it up so that it cannot be used. Thus, when a person eats animals, they tie up inner forces that they would otherwise call upon if they ate only plants. They therefore condemn a certain amount of their own forces to inactivity. Everything that is thus condemned to inactivity in the human organism simultaneously causes the relevant systems, which would otherwise be active, to be laid fallow, paralyzed, and hardened. So that a person kills or at least paralyzes a part of their organism when they consume an animal. This part of their organism, which the person hardens within themselves in this way, they then carry through life like a foreign body. In normal life, they do not feel this foreign body. But when the organism becomes so internally mobile and its organ systems become more independent of one another, as happens in anthroposophical life, then the physical body—which, as we have described, already feels uncomfortable—begins to feel even more uncomfortable, because it now has a foreign body within it.

[ 10 ] As I said, the aim is not to agitate, but simply to present the truth as it is. And we will come to know other effects of animal food; this time we will be compelled to discuss this chapter in detail. This is why progress in inner anthroposophical life gradually generates a kind of aversion to animal food. Not that one should forbid the anthroposophist to eat animal food; rather, the healthy, evolving instinctive level gradually resists animal food and no longer desires it; and that is also much better than if a person becomes a vegetarian out of some abstract principle. The best thing is for anthroposophy to lead people to feel a kind of revulsion and aversion toward meat, and there is little value—in terms of what one might call higher development—if a person gives up meat in any other way. So that one can say: Animal food causes something in the human being that becomes a burden for the human physical body, and this burden is felt. That is the occult reality from one perspective.

[ 11 ] We will characterize him from another perspective later. I would like to mention alcohol as another example. The relationship between human beings and alcohol is also subject to change when a person becomes inwardly alive and seriously imbued with anthroposophy. Alcohol, you see, is something quite special, so to speak, in the realms of nature. It proves to be not merely a burden on the human organism, but directly generates an opposing force within it. For when we consider the plant, it carries it within its organization up to a certain point—with the exception of the grapevine, which carries it beyond that point. What the other plants reserve solely for the young seedling—all the vital force that is otherwise saved only for the young seedling and does not flow into the rest of the plant—flows in the grapevine, in a certain way, into the pulp as well; so that through so-called fermentation, through the transformation of what pours into the grapevine—what has been brought to its highest tension within the grape itself—something is produced that indeed possesses a power within the plant which, in occult terms, can only be compared to the power that the human ego has over the blood. What thus arises in the production of wine, what is always formed in the production of alcohol, is that in another realm of nature, that which the human being must produce when he acts upon the blood from his ego is generated.

[ 12 ] We know, of course, that there is a close relationship between the ego and the blood. This can be observed externally in the fact that when shame is felt in the ego, a blush rises to the person’s face; when fear or anxiety is felt in the ego, the person turns pale. This effect of the ego on the blood—which, however, is also present in other contexts—is, occultistically speaking, very similar to the effect that arises when the plant process is reversed, so that what is in the pulp of the grape or what comes from the plant in general is transformed into alcohol. The ego must, as I said, normally produce a very similar process in the blood—occultistically speaking, not chemically—to that produced by the reversal, as it were, of the process of organization, by the mere chemical transformation of the process of organization, when alcohol is produced. The consequence of this is that through alcohol we introduce into our organism something that acts from the other side in the same way that the ego acts upon the blood. That is to say, we have taken into ourselves, through alcohol, a counter-ego, an ego that is directly a combatant against the actions of our spiritual ego. From the other side, alcohol acts upon the blood in precisely the same way that the ego acts upon the blood. Thus, we unleash an inner war and essentially render everything that emanates from the ego powerless when we set an opposing fighter against it in the form of alcohol. This is the occult reality. The person who does not drink alcohol secures the free ability to act upon the blood from his ego; the one who drinks alcohol does exactly as someone who wants to tear down a wall and strikes at one side, but at the same time places people on the other side to strike back at him. In exactly this way, the activity of the ego on the blood is eliminated through the consumption of alcohol.

[ 13 ] Therefore, those who make anthroposophy an integral part of their lives perceive the effect of alcohol in the blood as a direct struggle against their ego, and it is therefore only natural that true spiritual development can proceed smoothly only if this obstacle is removed. From this example, we see how what is otherwise also present becomes perceptible to the esotericist or anthroposophist through the altered balance that occurs in the physical body.

[ 14 ] In many other respects as well, the individual organs and organ systems of the human physical organism become increasingly independent, and we can also characterize this independence by the fact that the spinal cord and the brain become much more independent of one another. We will discuss nutrition and the occult physiology of nutrition further tomorrow; but today I want to focus more on the topic of this independence. This independence of the spinal cord from the brain can become apparent in that, through an inner permeation of the soul with anthroposophy, the human being gradually comes to feel in their physical body as if this physical organism were gaining greater independence in and of itself. This, in turn, can lead to quite uncomfortable situations. That is why it is all the more necessary to be aware of this. It may turn out, for example, that while one is otherwise in control of oneself, as it is usually called, the person who is making progress suddenly notices how they say certain words without really intending to say them. He is walking down the street; suddenly he realizes that he has uttered a word, perhaps a favorite of his, which he would have refrained from saying had he not undergone that process of becoming independent that is referred to as the independence of the spinal cord relative to the brain. What is otherwise inhibited becomes mere reflex phenomena due to the independence of the spinal cord relative to the brain. But within the brain itself, one part becomes independent of the other: namely, the inner parts of the brain become more independent of the outer surrounding parts, whereas in normal life these latter parts cooperate more closely with the inner parts. This is evident in that, for the esotericist or true anthroposophist, abstract thinking becomes more difficult, more challenging than it was before, as it gradually encounters resistance in the brain. Thinking in images—or, so to speak, creating mental images more imaginatively—becomes easier for the developing anthroposophist than abstract thinking.

[ 15 ] This is something that becomes apparent very quickly, even among some particularly zealous anthroposophists. A preference for exclusively anthroposophical activities begins to develop. People begin to enjoy reading and thinking only about anthroposophical matters, not merely because they are zealous anthroposophists, but because it becomes easier for them to immerse themselves in these more spiritual mental images, which, as far as the physical plane is concerned, engage the middle regions of the brain, whereas abstract thinking engages the outer regions of the brain. This explains the aversion of many overzealous anthroposophists to abstract thinking and abstract science. It also explains why some anthroposophists note with a certain wistfulness how they used to be able to think abstractly quite well and how precisely this abstract thinking is now beginning to become more difficult.

[ 16 ] Thus, the individual organs become more alive and independent in themselves, and even individual parts of the organs become more alive and independent. You can see from this that, so to speak, something new must occur in the person who goes through such a process. In the past, it was a benevolent nature that, without his intervention, brought his organs into the right connection; now these organs become more independent, entering into an independent relationship with one another. Now he must have more of the inner strength to truly call the organs back into harmony. This calling of the organs and parts of organs into harmony is achieved by the fact that, in every proper practice of anthroposophy, everything that enhances the human being’s mastery over his organs—which have become more independent—is constantly emphasized. Why, in fact, does something play such a major role within our literature that some people simply say: Oh, but that is terribly difficult! — I have often had to give a very peculiar answer when people said: For beginners, the book *Theosophy* is actually too difficult. — I had to say: It could not have been any easier. Had it been made easier, people would indeed have taken certain anthroposophical truths into their inner being, truths that have an effect, including on the development of independence in the individual parts of the brain; but this book is constructed within a proper structure of thought so that the other part of the brain is also continually compelled to truly exercise itself, not to lag behind, so to speak. This is the peculiarity that, in a movement such as this, which is based on an occult foundation, makes it necessary not merely to pay attention to what is correct in an abstract sense and simply to proclaim it in any arbitrary manner; but it is necessary to proclaim it in a sound manner and to take the utmost care that, for the sake of popularity, the matter is not proclaimed in such a way that its proclamation might at the same time prove harmful. In anthroposophy, it is not merely a matter of communicating the relevant truths in books and speeches, but rather of how they are written and how they are communicated. And it is all the better if those who wish to become the bearers of such a movement do not allow themselves to be deterred from carrying out this or that for the sake of popularity. More than in any other field, this one is about a commitment to pure and honest truth. And it is precisely when one addresses questions such as the transformation of the human body through an anthroposophical life that one first realizes how necessary it is to present anthroposophy to the world in the right way.

[ 17 ] I would just like to note that the lectures I will be giving should be considered as a whole, and that therefore any concerns that might arise in one person or another during the first lecture will already have been addressed.