Concerning the Nature of Pain, Suffering, Joy, and Bliss
GA 107
27 October 1908, Berlin
Translator Unknown
Let us proceed to-day from simple forms of pain, from its elementary forms. When we cut our finger and feel pain, or when we bruise it, or cut it off completely and feel pain, this is the simplest, most primitive form of pain. Let us begin by considering this.
When we ask psychologists who are experienced in matters connected with the human soul, what explanation they have for the simplest form of pain, we find, particularly in the present time, that these psychologists say rather queer things. They made a strange discovery, for they found out that the only way of explaining pain is to add to the different senses, to the sense of smell, of sight, of hearing, a new sense the sense of pain, so that the human being perceives pain through this sense in the same way in which he perceives the light through his eyes and sounds through his ears. They say that man feels pain because he has a sense of pain. External experience does not give us any foundation in support of the existence of a sense of pain; nevertheless science, setting out from pure observation, is not in any way averse to accepting it, in fact, it invents a sense of pain.
But let us take no further notice of this and ask ourselves instead: How does such a simple, primitive feeling of pain really arise? In what manner does the experience of pain arise, when we cut our finger?
The finger is a part of our physical body. The physical body contains the substances of the external physical world The finger is permeated with the etheric and astral parts of the body belonging to the finger. What are the tasks of these higher parts, of the etheric and astral parts? The physical structure of the finger, consisting of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, etc, these cells arranged within it could not be as they are, if the active element, the forming, constructive element—i.e. the etheric body—were not behind them. The etheric body is not only at the foundation of the finger's growth, arranging the cells so that they form the finger, gut it also maintains these cells in their structure, thus preventing the finger's decay. The etheric body permeates the whole finger and fills it with the etheric forces; it is contained in the same space filled out be the physical finger. But the astral finger is also there. When we have a sensation in our finger, when we feel a pressure of anything else,, this is of course transmitted by the finger's astral body, for sensation, feelings, live in the astral body.
The connection between the physical, etheric and astral finger is, however, not only a mechanical connection, but an incessantly living one. The etheric finger always fills the physical finger glowing strength, it constantly works at the formation of its inner parts. In what way is the etheric finger really interested in the physical finger?
Its chief concern is to bring all the parts with which it is connected, even the minutest particles, in their right place, in a right connection everywhere.
Let us now imagine that there is a little cut on our skin, a small injury. This prevents the etheric finger in its task of arranging the different parts in the right way. The etheric body lives in the finger and should keep its parts together. But the cut, this mechanical incision, keeps them apart, so that the etheric finger can no longer fulfil its task. It is in the same situation in which we should be, if we had constructed an appliance to be used for working in the garden and someone had destroyed it; in that case we could not do the work in the way in which we intended to do it. We must give up doing what we wished to do. This inability to do something, as resignation. This impossibility (on the part of the etheric body) to set in with its activity is felt by the astral part of the finger as pain.
When a hand is amputated, only the physical hand can be amputated, not the etheric hand, and the etheric hand is then unable to work; the astral body feels this tremendous renunciation in the form of pain.
The cooperation between the etheric and astral thus produces the most primitive, elementary form of pain. This is how pain arises, and it lasts as long as the astral body in a particular part of the body has grown accustomed to the fact that the corresponding etheric activity can no longer be carried out.
Let us compare this with the pain which we experience in Kamaloka! There, the whole body is suddenly torn away from man, it does not exist any more and the etheric, forces can no longer be active in it. The astral, body feels that the whole can no longer be organised—it longs for the activity which can only be carried out within the physical body,—and this want is felt as pain. Every pain is a suppressed activity. In the cosmos every suppressed activity gives rise to pain, and because activity must frequently be suppressed in the cosmos, pain is necessary in the cosmos.
But something else may arise. Up to a certain degree, the hand may be prevented in its particularly living activity by processes of renunciation, or similar things. This is, for example, the case when a person begins to mortify his flesh. Organs of the body which were formerly active and living are, in a certain way, brought to a standstill. Then the astral part of the hand, for example, withdraws from the etheric hand; it will have a surplus of forces, it will have lost some of its tasks, although it might have continued to fulfil them just as actively.
If a person treats his body in such a way that he begins to feel these surplus forces in his astral body and is able to say to himself: I dispose of surplus forces; formerly, I used up all these forces in order to regulate the physical body; now I have tamed the physical body, it no longer requires all these forces—if this is the case, the astral body endowed with these surplus forces will feel this as blissfulness. For even as suppressed activity produces pain, so accumulated activity produces a feeling of bliss. It is blissfulness for the astral body to do more than it was meant to do from the outset. This consciousness of an overflowing strength which could be used productively, which may be guided from within, since the external body no longer claims it for itself, this implies blissfulness.
What meaning underlies the fact that some religious communities do certain things in order to mortify the flesh, the physical body? What does this imply?
This means that the functions of the physical body are not used so much, they are thus calmed, so that a certain amount of forces is kept back in the etheric body.
Let us imagine a man who lived a life full of privations, who gradually succeeded in calming down the metabolic processes of his physical body, without making many demands on the etheric body, and then another man who likes to eat as much as possible, whose physical processes are in a state of turmoil and who has a lot to digest In the case of the former, where everything takes such a calm course, whose physical functions even show a certain sluggishness and do not consume the etheric forces so much, there will be superfluous forces in his etheric body; in the case of the latter, all the forces of his etheric body must be consumed in order to maintain the functions of the physical body. Consequently, the man whose body has learned to be calm and unpretentious will have superfluous forces in his etheric body, and his astral body will mirror them as forces of knowledge, not only, as blissfulness, and the imaginative pictures of the astral world will rise up before such a person. For example, Savanarola had a weak constitution and was nearly always ill; he had any forces in his etheric body which were not used for the physical body, and he could employ these forces for his powerful thoughts and impulses, he was able to hold those powerful speeches by which he enthralled his audiences. His visions also enabled hem to set before his hearers, in a powerful picture events which would take place in the future.
And now we may transfer this to the spiritual worlds. Even as suppressed activity means privation in Kamaloca—and there is always privation in Kamaloka—every suppressed activity falls away when the human being enters Devachan because there nothing exists which is in any way connected with the physical and which lustfully longs for the physical. In Devachan a spiritual substantiality is given to man which little by little builds up the form of his future incarnation. In Devachan there is purest, freest activity, and man experiences this as purest bliss.
During his earthly life, we continually learn through everything which surrounds us, but the different bodies which we have , were built up in accordance with the forces of our preceding incarnations, we built up these bodies through these forces. But what we learn to know during our life is not yet contained in our body. In the course of life we change; our feelings change, our ideas grow, there is a great amount of suppressed activity in us. But we cannot change our body, it must remain as it is, built up in accordance with the experiences of preceding incarnations.
In Devachan the human being has emancipated himself from these hindrances, and as a result, his unchecked will to work takes on the form of bliss. There he forms his astral body, his etheric body and his physical body for a new life. What remains unused in life, is applied in Devachan. He takes up into Devachan not only his present consciousness, but also what surpasses his personality. This gives him a heightened state of existence in Devachan, so that in addition to what he experiences here as his individuality,he experiences in Devachan all that he has gained over and above his individuality and could not yet bring to expression during his life:
We are thus able to understand pain and privation by rising from the lowest stage up to that of blissfulness. In one world we can always follow the traces of something that passes through all the worlds.
To-day we are thus able to appreciate more fully the ascetic methods of development. We may say: Even as pain is connected with an external injury of the physical body, so the feeling of bliss is connected with a diminution of the external activity and consequently with an increase of the inner activity. This is the sensible side of the asceticism of the past, and we are able to understand why that which was to lead man up into the higher worlds was sought through renunciation.
Consequently we must first throw light upon the most primitive aspects of things in order to grasp, as it were, how spiritual science explains to us by the simplest things, such as hurting a finger, the path leading from renunciation and privation to blissfulness, and also how the tearing of pain may become a kind of path of knowledge. For everything is a parable, and by explaining the smallest things which face us, in the way, in which spiritual science explains it to us, we gradually rise to a spiritual height enabling us to understand the highest things.
If we compare this with what was explained yesterday, we shall be able to grasp that the bearing of bodily pain may become a kind of training, a path of knowledge. Imagine a person who never had a headache. He can say: I am not aware of the fact that I have a brain, for I have never felt it. Let us now imagine that such a headache is not produced by influences from outside, but by a certain stage of Christian Initiation which is called “the crown of thorns”. It is meant to give man the feeling: Through pain and suffering and many hindrances approach me, seeking to undermine what is most important to me, my mission—I will stand upright, though I stand alone! If someone practises these feelings for months, indeed for years, he will finally experience this feeling of headache, as if sharp points or thorns were prickling his head.
This is a transition to the recognition of those occult forces which formed the brain. When the etheric forces of the brain do exactly what they to do, they do not find anything which might bring these forces to the consciousness of man. But when the physical brain is in a certain way injured under the influence of these feelings, the etheric body must loosen itself from it; it must withdraw from the brain, it is driven out of it, and knowledge is the result of this emancipation of the etheric head. This passing feeling of pain is only the transition to the stage in which the forces of knowledge are gained, and this is nothing but an objectivation of something which man did not know before. Before, he did not know that he had a brain, now he learns to know the etheric forces and their activity, the forces which built up his brain and maintain it.
Many other things might still be said, When a physical organ is separated from its etheric part, so that the etheric body is unable to work in it, we experience pain. But when the astral body has grown accustomed to this, when the cicatrization begins, implying an emancipation of the etheric body, when therefore not all the forces of the etheric body are being used, then the opposite arises: namely, a feeling of joy and bliss.
Fünfter Vortrag
Es soll heute ausgegangen werden von einfachen Formen des Schmerzes, von den Elementargestalten desselben. Wenn man sich in den Finger schneidet und Schmerz empfindet oder die Hand gequetscht wird oder wenn die Hand abgehauen wird und man Schmerz empfindet, ist es eine einfachste, primitivste Art des Schmerzes; damit soll diese Betrachtung beginnen. Wenn wir seelenkundige Gelehrte, Psychologen fragen, was sie zur Erklärung des einfachsten Schmerzes herbeitragen können, so sind gerade in der Gegenwart diese Psychologen etwas drollig geworden. Sie haben eine merkwürdige Entdeckung gemacht: Denn sie haben gefunden, daß der Schmerz nicht anders erklärt werden kann, als wenn man noch zu den verschiedenen Sinnen, dem Geruchs-, Gesichts- und Gehörsinn, auch einen Schmerzessinn dazunimmt, so daß der Mensch mit diesem Sinne den Schmerz wahrnimmt, geradeso wie er mit den Augen das Licht und mit dem Ohr die Töne wahrnimmt. Sie sagen: Der Mensch empfinde Schmerz, weil er einen Schmerzessinn habe. Die äußere Erfahrung gibt uns zwar keinen Anhaltspunkt, der dafür sprechen würde, einen Schmerzessinn anzunehmen, aber trotzdem fühlt sich die auf die reine Beobachtung sich stützende Wissenschaft durchaus nicht abgehalten, ihn anzunehmen, Sie erfindet eben den Schmerzessinn. Aber wir wollen davon keine weitere Notiz nehmen, sondern uns fragen: Wie kommt ein solcher einfacher, primitiver Schmerz zustande, wie wird er empfunden, wenn man sich in den Finger schneidet?
Der Finger ist ein Teil des physischen Leibes. In diesem sind die Stoffe der äußeren physischen Welt vorhanden. Der Finger ist durchsetzt von dem ätherischen und dem astralischen Teil des Leibes, der zum Finger gehört. Was haben diese höheren Teile, das Ätherische und das Astralische, für eine Aufgabe? Dieser physische Aufbau des Fingers, der aus Kohlenstoff, Wasserstoff, Sauerstoff, Stickstoff und so weiter besteht, diese Zellen, die in ihm angeordnet sind, könnten nicht so sein, wenn nicht hinter ihnen der tätige Akteur, der Bildner und Aufbauer, der Ätherleib wäre, der sowohl in der Entwicklung des Fingers gewirkt hat, so daß die Zellen sich zum Finger zusammengefügt haben, als auch diese Zellen in ihrer jetzigen Zusammenfügung erhält, denn er verhindert, daß der Finger abfällt und verwest. Dieser Ätherleib durchsetzt, durchätherisiert den ganzen Finger, er ist in demselben Raum wie der physische Finger. Aber auch der Astralfinger ist da. Wenn wir im Finger irgendeine Empfindung haben, einen Druck oder eine sonstige Wahrnehmung, so ist natürlich der Astralleib des Fingers der Vermittler desselben, denn die Empfindung ist im Astralleibe.
Es ist aber keineswegs ein bloß mechanischer Zusammenhang zwischen dem physischen, ätherischen und astralischen Finger, sondern dieser Zusammenhang ist ein fortwährend lebendiger. Der ätherische Finger durchglüht und durchkraftet immer den physischen Finger, er arbeitet fortwährend an der Gestaltung der inneren Teile desselben. Was hat denn der ätherische Finger für ein eigentliches Interesse an dem physischen Finger? Er hat das Interesse, überall diese Teile, mit denen er bis in die kleinsten Teile verbunden ist, an die richtige Stelle, in das richtige Verhältnis zu bringen.
Denken wir nun, wir machten uns ein Ritzchen in die Haut und verletzten sie dadurch: Da verhindern wir durch diesen Einschnitt den Ätherfinger daran, daß er die Teile in der richtigen Weise anordnet. Er ist im Finger und sollte die Teile zusammenhalten. Dieser mechanische Einschnitt hält sie auseinander, da kann der Ätherfinger nicht tun, was er tun soll. Er ist in derselben Lage, wie wir sein würden, wenn wir selbst uns zum Beispiel irgendein Gerät hergerichtet hätten, um im Garten zu arbeiten, und jemand uns das Gerät zerstörte. Da kann man seine Arbeit nicht so verrichten, wie man möchte. Jetzt muß man entbehren, was man in Angriff nehmen wollte. Dieses Nichtkönnen bezeichnet man am besten mit Entbehrung. Diese Unmöglichkeit einzugreifen, empfindet der astralische Teil des Fingers als Schmerz.
Wenn man die Hand wegschlägt, kann man nur die physische Hand wegschlagen, nicht die Ätherhand, und diese Ätherhand kann dann nicht wirken; diese ungeheure Entbehrung empfindet die Astralhand als Schmerz. So haben wir durch Zusammenwirken des Ätherischen und Astralischen das Wesen des primitivsten, elementarsten Schmerzes kennengelernt. So entsteht in der Tat der Schmerz, und er dauert so lange, bis nunmehr das Astralische in diesem einzelnen Teil sich daran gewöhnt hat, daß diese Tätigkeit nicht mehr ausgeführt wird.
Vergleichen wir nun damit den Schmerz im Kamaloka. Dort ist plötzlich dem Menschen sein ganzer Leib entrissen, er ist nicht mehr da, und die Ätherkräfte können nicht mehr eingreifen. Der Astralleib spürt, daß das Ganze nicht mehr organisiert werden kann, er begehrt die Tätigkeit, die man nur mit dem physischen Leibe ausführen kann, er empfindet diese Entbehrung als Schmerz. Jeder Schmerz ist eine unterdrückte Tätigkeit. Jede unterdrückte Tätigkeit im Kosmos führt zum Schmerz, und weil oft Tätigkeit im Kosmos zu unterdrücken ist, ist der Schmerz etwas Notwendiges im Kosmos.
Es kann aber auch etwas anderes eintreten. Es kann in einem gewissen Grade die Hand durch Entbehrungsprozesse und dergleichen [zurückgehalten] werden von ihrer besonders lebendigen Tätigkeit, und dadurch können ihre Funktionen unterdrückt werden. Das ist ja zum Beispiel der Fall, wenn der Mensch beginnt sich zu kasteien. Da bringt er die früher regen und tätigen Organe des Körpers in gewisser Weise zum Stillstand. Dann entzieht sich zum Beispiel bei der Hand der astralische Teil der Ätherhand. Diese hat dann einen Überschuß an Kräften, sie hat an Aufgaben verloren, trotzdem sie ebenso rege die Tätigkeit fortsetzen könnte. Sie hat auf diese Weise, trotzdem eine eigentliche Verletzung nicht da ist, ihre Aufgabe verloren. Wenn der Mensch sich nun so behandelt, daß er diese überschüssige Kraft in dem Astralleib zu spüren beginnt und sich sagen kann: Ich habe da überschüssige Kraft übrig; vorher habe ich alle Kraft gebraucht, um den physischen Leib zu regulieren, jetzt habe ich den physischen Leib gebändigt. - Er nimmt nicht mehr so viel Kraft in Anspruch - so verspürt der Astralleib die so geartete überschüssige Kraft als Seligkeit. Denn geradeso wie unterdrückte Tätigkeit Schmerz bereitet, so gibt angesammelte Kraft das Gefühl von Seligkeit. Die Möglichkeit, mehr zu tun, als er von vorneherein veranlagt war zu tun, bedeutet für den Astralleib Seligkeit. Dies Bewußtsein einer strotzenden Kraft, die hinaufgehen kann in der Produktion, die von innen heraus dirigiert werden darf, da der äußere Körper sie nicht in Anspruch nimmt: das bedeutet Seligkeit.
Welchen Sinn hat es nun, daß in Ordensgemeinschaften etwas zur Abtötung des physischen Körpers getan wird? Was heißt das also? Das heißt: die Funktionen des physischen Leibes nicht so in Anspruch nehmen, sie dadurch ruhig machen und so im Ätherleibe etwas an Kraft zurückbehalten. Denken wir uns nebeneinander einen Menschen, der entbehrungsvoll gelebt hat, der es nach und nach dazu gebracht hat, daß der Stoffwechsel des physischen Leibes ruhig vor sich geht, ohne den Ätherleib viel in Anspruch zu nehmen, und einen andern Menschen, der möglichst viel essen will, bei dem alles drunter und drüber geht, bei dem viel verdaut wird. Bei dem einen, bei dem alles in der Ruhe vor sich geht, ja bei dem die physischen Funktionen sogar eine gewisse Trägheit zeigen und nicht so sehr die Kräfte des Ätherleibes aufzehren, da bleibt dem Ätherleibe Kraft übrig. Bei dem anderen aber muß die ganze Kraft des Ätherleibes für die Bedürfnisse des Gaumens und Magens verwendet werden; da werden alle Kräfte des Ätherleibes verbraucht, um den physischen Leib in seinen Funktionen zu erhalten. Die Folge davon ist, daß derjenige, der seinen Leib zur Ruhe und Anspruchslosigkeit gebracht hat, überschüssige Kräfte in seinem Ätherleibe hat, und der Astralleib spiegelt dieselben als Erkenntniskräfte, nicht bloß als Seligkeit, und es treten vor einem solchen die imaginativen Bilder der astralischen Welt auf. Savonarola zum Beispiel hatte keinen ihn besonders in Anspruch nehmenden physischen Leib; er war schwächlich, sogar eigentlich fortwährend kränklich, er hatte viel in seinem Ätherleib, was nicht in den physischen Leib hinein verbraucht wurde, und er konnte diese Kräfte dazu verwenden, um seine gewaltigen Kraftgedanken und Impulse zu finden, er konnte jene mächtigen Reden halten, durch die er seine Zuhörer begeisterte. Durch seine Visionen, die er auch hatte, konnte er dasjenige, was in der Zukunft geschehen soll, mächtig vor seine Hörer hinstellen.
Und jetzt können wir das auf die geistigen Welten übertragen. Ebenso wie gehemmte Tätigkeit im Kamaloka Entbehrung ist - und im Kamaloka ist immer Entbehrung -, fällt nun, wenn der Mensch in das Devachan kommt, alle gehemmte Tätigkeit hinweg, weil dort nichts mehr da ist, was irgendwie mit dem Physischen zusammenhängt und mit Gier sich zurücksehnt in das Physische. Da ist dem Menschen die geistige Substantialität überliefert, welche nach und nach aufbaut die Gestalt seiner künftigen Inkarnation. Da ist reinste, ungehemmteste Tätigkeit, und die empfindet der Mensch als reinste Seligkeit. Der Mensch lernt fortwährend in seinem Leben durch alles, was um ihn herum ist. Seine Leiber aber, die er jetzt hat, die hat er aufgebaut nach den Kräften seiner früheren Inkarnationen, die hat er sich durch diese Kräfte aufgebaut. Was er jetzt in seinem Leben kennenlernt, das ist noch nicht in seinem Leibe. Der Mensch ändert sich innerhalb seines Lebens, seine Gefühle und Empfindungen ändern sich, seine Ideale wachsen, eine große Summe gehemmten Tätigkeitsdranges steckt im Menschen - seinen Leib aber kann er nicht umgestalten, er muß den Körper so lassen, wie er nach den Erfahrungen der früheren Inkarnationen aufgebaut ist. Von diesen Hemmungen ist er im Devachan befreit, und die Folge davon ist, daß sich sein ungehemmter Tätigkeitsdrang in Seligkeit auslebt. Er schafft sich seinen Astralleib, seinen ätherischen und seinen physischen Leib dort für das neue Leben. Was hier unverbraucht bleibt, das wird in Anwendung gebracht im Devachan. Er nimmt hinauf ins Devachan nicht nur sein jetziges, gegenwärtiges Bewußtsein, sondern auch dasjenige, was über seine Persönlichkeit hinausgeht. Das gibt ihm im Devachan ein erhöhtes Dasein, so daß er also zu dem, was hier seine Individualität ist, noch das im Devachan erlebt, was er zur Individualität hinzuerobert hat und was er während seines Lebens noch nicht hat zum Ausdruck bringen können. So begreifen wir Schmerz und Entbehrung von der untersten Stufe bis hinauf zur Seligkeit. In einer Welt können wir immer die Spuren dessen verfolgen, was durch alle Welten hindurchgeht.
So können wir heute auch die asketischen Methoden der Entwicklung besser würdigen. Wir können sagen: Wie der Schmerz zusammenhängt mit einer äußeren Verletzung des physischen Leibes, so hängt die Seligkeit, die empfunden wird, zusammen mit einer Verringerung der äußeren und dadurch mit einer Erhöhung der inneren Tätigkeit. Das ist die vernünftige Seite der alten Askese, und wir können verstehen, warum in Entsagung dasjenige gesucht worden ist, was in die höheren Welten hinaufführen sollte. So müssen wir uns oft die primitivsten Seiten der Sache klarmachen, um in gewisser Weise begreifen zu lernen, wie uns die Geisteswissenschaft durch das Einfachste, wie die Verletzung eines Fingers, den Weg von Entbehrung und Entsagung zur Seligkeit erklärlich macht, und ebenso wie die Ertragung des Körperschmerzes eine Art Erkenntnisweg werden kann. Denn alles ist Gleichnis, und wenn wir uns das Kleine, das vor uns liegt, erklären, wie es die Geisteswissenschaft erkennen läßt, dann erheben wir uns allmählich zu einer geistigen Höhe, die uns das Größte begreifen läßt.
Wenn wir das vergleichen mit dem, was gestern gesagt worden ist, so wird es erklärlich, daß das Ertragen von körperlichen Schmerzen eine Art Schulung, eine Art Erkenntnisweg sein kann. Denken wir uns einen Menschen, der noch nie Kopfschmerzen gehabt hat. Er kann sagen: Ich weiß nichts davon, daß ich ein Gehirn habe, denn ich habe es noch nie gefühlt. Denken wir uns, daß nicht durch äußere Einflüsse solcher Kopfschmerz zustande kommt, sondern durch eine gewisse Stufe der christlichen Einweihung, die man «die Dornenkrönung» nennt. Da hat der Mensch das Gefühl zu erleben: Was auch für Leiden und Schmerzen und Hemmungen an mich herantreten, die mir dasjenige, was mir das Wichtigste ist, meine Mission, untergraben wollen - ich will aufrecht stehen, wenn ich auch allein stehe! - Wenn jemand monate-, ja jahrelang sich in diesen Gefühlen üben würde, würde er zuletzt zu einem solchen Gefühl von Kopfschmerz kommen, wie wenn Stacheln sich in seinen Kopf hineinbohrten. Das ist ein Übergang zum Erkennen derjenigen okkulten Kräfte, die das Gehirn gebildet haben. Wenn die Ätherkräfte des Gehirns genau tun, was sie tun müssen, dann finden sie nichts, was dem Menschen diese Kräfte zum Bewußtsein bringen könnte. In dem Augenblick aber, wo das physische Gehirn in einer gewissen Weise verwundet ist unter dem Einfluß dieser Gefühle, muß der Ätherleib sich loslösen, er muß sich zurückziehen aus dem Gehirn, er wird hinausgetrieben aus dem Gehirn, und die Folge dieser Selbständigkeit des Ätherkopfes ist die Erkenntnis. Dieser vorübergehende Schmerz ist nur der Übergang zur Erreichung der Erkenntniskräfte, und das ist nichts anderes als die Objektivierung dessen, was der Mensch vorher nicht wußte. Früher wußte er nicht, daß er ein Gehirn habe, jetzt lernt er erkennen die Ätherkräfte und ihre Wirksamkeit, die sein Gehirn aufgebaut haben und die es erhalten.
So könnte man noch verschiedenes sagen. Wenn ein physisches Organ getrennt wird von seinem Äthergliede, so daß der Ätherleib nicht eingreifen kann, empfindet man Schmerz. Dann, wenn der Astralleib sich daran gewöhnt hat, wenn die Vernarbung eintritt, die ein Freiwerden des Ätherkörpers bedeutet, wenn also nicht alle Kräfte des Ätherleibes verwendet werden, tritt das Umgekehrte ein: nämlich das Gefühl von Lust und Seligkeit.
Fifth Lecture
Today we will start with simple forms of pain, with its elementary manifestations. When you cut your finger and feel pain, or when your hand is crushed, or when your hand is cut off and you feel pain, this is the simplest, most primitive form of pain; this is where our consideration will begin. When we ask scholars of the soul, psychologists, what they can contribute to the explanation of the simplest pain, these psychologists have become somewhat comical, especially in the present day. They have made a remarkable discovery: They have found that pain cannot be explained other than by adding a sense of pain to the various senses, such as smell, sight, and hearing, so that humans perceive pain with this sense, just as they perceive light with their eyes and sounds with their ears. They say that humans feel pain because they have a sense of pain. External experience does not give us any indication that we should assume a sense of pain, but nevertheless, science, based on pure observation, does not hesitate to assume it; it simply invents the sense of pain. But let us not dwell on this, but ask ourselves: How does such a simple, primitive pain come about, how is it felt when one cuts one's finger?
The finger is part of the physical body. The substances of the external physical world are present in it. The finger is permeated by the etheric and astral parts of the body that belong to the finger. What is the function of these higher parts, the etheric and the astral? This physical structure of the finger, which consists of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, and so on, these cells arranged within it, could not be what they are if there were not behind them the active agent, the former and builder, the etheric body, which has worked both in the development of the finger, so that the cells have joined together to form the finger, and also maintains these cells in their present arrangement, for it prevents the finger from falling off and decaying. This etheric body permeates and etherizes the entire finger; it is in the same space as the physical finger. But the astral finger is also there. When we have any sensation in the finger, a pressure or some other perception, it is naturally the astral body of the finger that is the mediator of this sensation, for the sensation is in the astral body.
However, there is by no means a mere mechanical connection between the physical, etheric, and astral fingers; rather, this connection is a constantly living one. The etheric finger always glows and energizes the physical finger; it works continuously on the formation of its inner parts. What interest does the etheric finger actually have in the physical finger? It has an interest in bringing all the parts with which it is connected, down to the smallest parts, into the right place and into the right relationship.
Let us now imagine that we make a small cut in the skin and thereby injure it: through this incision, we prevent the etheric finger from arranging the parts in the right way. It is in the finger and should hold the parts together. This mechanical incision keeps them apart, so the ether finger cannot do what it is supposed to do. It is in the same position as we would be if, for example, we had prepared some tool for working in the garden and someone destroyed it. Then we cannot do our work as we would like to. Now you have to do without what you wanted to do. This inability is best described as deprivation. The astral part of the finger perceives this inability to intervene as pain.
If you knock your hand away, you can only knock away the physical hand, not the etheric hand, and this etheric hand can then no longer function; the astral hand perceives this tremendous deprivation as pain. Thus, through the interaction of the etheric and astral, we have come to know the nature of the most primitive, most elementary pain. This is how pain actually arises, and it lasts until the astral part in this individual part has become accustomed to the fact that this activity is no longer being carried out.
Let us now compare this with the pain in Kamaloka. There, the whole body is suddenly snatched away from the person, it is no longer there, and the etheric forces can no longer intervene. The astral body senses that the whole can no longer be organized, it desires the activity that can only be carried out with the physical body, it feels this deprivation as pain. Every pain is a suppressed activity. Every suppressed activity in the cosmos leads to pain, and because activity in the cosmos often has to be suppressed, pain is something necessary in the cosmos.
However, something else can also happen. To a certain extent, the hand can be [held back] from its particularly lively activity through processes of deprivation and the like, and as a result its functions can be suppressed. This is the case, for example, when a person begins to mortify themselves. In doing so, they bring the previously active organs of the body to a standstill in a certain way. Then, for example, the astral part of the etheric hand withdraws from the hand. This then has an excess of energy; it has lost its tasks, even though it could continue its activity just as vigorously. In this way, even though there is no actual injury, it has lost its task. If a person treats themselves in such a way that they begin to feel this excess energy in the astral body and can say to themselves: I have excess energy left over; before, I needed all my energy to regulate the physical body, but now I have tamed the physical body. It no longer requires so much energy. The astral body then perceives this excess energy as bliss. For just as suppressed activity causes pain, accumulated energy gives a feeling of bliss. The possibility of doing more than he was originally predisposed to do means bliss for the astral body. This awareness of a bursting energy that can rise up in production, that can be directed from within because the outer body does not demand it: that means bliss.
What is the point, then, of doing something in religious communities to mortify the physical body? What does that mean? It means not making use of the functions of the physical body, thereby calming them and thus retaining some strength in the etheric body. Let us imagine two people side by side, one who has lived a life of deprivation and has gradually brought about a state in which the metabolism of the physical body proceeds calmly without making much use of the etheric body, and another who wants to eat as much as possible, in whom everything is in turmoil and much is digested. In the one, where everything proceeds calmly, where even the physical functions show a certain sluggishness and do not consume the forces of the etheric body so much, the etheric body has strength left over. In the other person, however, all the energy of the etheric body must be used for the needs of the palate and stomach; all the energies of the etheric body are used to maintain the physical body in its functions. The result is that those who have brought their bodies to rest and undemandingness have excess forces in their etheric bodies, and the astral body reflects these as powers of cognition, not merely as bliss, and the imaginative images of the astral world appear before them. Savonarola, for example, did not have a physical body that made particular demands on him; he was weak, even continually sickly, he had much in his etheric body that was not used up in the physical body, and he was able to use these forces to find his powerful thoughts and impulses, he was able to make those powerful speeches that inspired his listeners. Through the visions he also had, he was able to powerfully present to his listeners what was to happen in the future.
And now we can transfer this to the spiritual worlds. Just as inhibited activity in Kamaloka is deprivation—and in Kamaloka there is always deprivation—when a person enters Devachan, all inhibited activity falls away because there is nothing left there that is in any way connected with the physical and longs to return to the physical with greed. There, the spiritual substance is handed over to the human being, which gradually builds up the form of his future incarnation. There is the purest, most uninhibited activity, and the human being experiences this as the purest bliss. Human beings learn continuously throughout their lives from everything around them. However, the bodies they now have, they have built up according to the powers of their previous incarnations; they have built them up through these powers. What they now learn in their lives is not yet in their bodies. Human beings change during their lives, their feelings and sensations change, their ideals grow, and there is a great deal of inhibited activity within them – but they cannot transform their bodies; they must leave them as they are, built up according to the experiences of their previous incarnations. In Devachan, he is freed from these inhibitions, and as a result, his uninhibited urge to be active is lived out in bliss. There he creates his astral body, his etheric body, and his physical body for his new life. What remains unused here is put to use in Devachan. He takes up into Devachan not only his present consciousness, but also that which goes beyond his personality. This gives him a higher existence in Devachan, so that he adds to what is his individuality here what he has gained in Devachan and what he has not yet been able to express during his life. In this way we understand pain and deprivation from the lowest level up to bliss. In one world we can always trace the traces of what passes through all worlds.
This enables us today to appreciate the ascetic methods of development more fully. We can say that just as pain is connected with an external injury to the physical body, so the bliss that is felt is connected with a reduction in external activity and thus with an increase in internal activity. This is the reasonable side of ancient asceticism, and we can understand why renunciation was sought as a means of ascending to the higher worlds. Thus, we often have to clarify the most primitive aspects of a matter in order to learn, in a certain sense, how spiritual science explains to us, through the simplest things, such as the injury of a finger, the path from deprivation and renunciation to bliss, and how the endurance of physical pain can become a kind of path to knowledge. For everything is a parable, and when we explain the small things before us as spiritual science reveals them, we gradually rise to a spiritual height that enables us to comprehend the greatest things.
If we compare this with what was said yesterday, it becomes understandable that enduring physical pain can be a kind of training, a kind of path to knowledge. Let us imagine a person who has never had a headache. He can say: I know nothing about having a brain, because I have never felt it. Let us imagine that such a headache does not come about through external influences, but through a certain stage of Christian initiation called “the crowning with thorns.” The person then has the feeling of experiencing the following: Whatever suffering, pain, and inhibitions come my way that want to undermine what is most important to me, my mission—I want to stand upright, even if I stand alone! If someone were to practice these feelings for months or even years, they would eventually come to feel a headache as if thorns were piercing their head. This is a transition to recognizing the occult forces that have formed the brain. When the etheric forces of the brain do exactly what they have to do, they find nothing that could bring these forces to human consciousness. But the moment the physical brain is wounded in a certain way under the influence of these feelings, the etheric body must detach itself, it must withdraw from the brain, it is driven out of the brain, and the result of this independence of the etheric head is knowledge. This temporary pain is only the transition to the attainment of the powers of knowledge, and that is nothing other than the objectification of what the human being did not know before. Previously, he did not know that he had a brain; now he learns to recognize the etheric forces and their effectiveness, which have built up his brain and which maintain it.
One could say various other things as well. When a physical organ is separated from its etheric member so that the etheric body cannot intervene, one feels pain. Then, when the astral body has become accustomed to this, when scarring occurs, which means that the etheric body is freed, when, in other words, not all the forces of the etheric body are being used, the opposite occurs: namely, the feeling of pleasure and bliss.