An ongoing evolution of consciousness
author: Matthijs Cornelissen
last revision: May 2019
If you haven't read Section 1, you may like to read that first:
involution, evolution and the future
The need for involution preceding evolution
If we see in the biological evolution a gradual emergence of consciousness, that consciousness must have been hiding somewhere before it emerged. To use a perhaps over-simplistic metaphor, a magician cannot pull a rabbit out of a hat if he has not hidden that rabbit somewhere inside the hat before he starts. Similarly, consciousness cannot emerge out of matter if the basic principle of consciousness is not already there in some form or another. In other words, an involution of consciousness must have preceded the evolution, and this is exactly how the Indian tradition visualises the process that has produced our present world. The combined process of involution and evolution can then be depicted as in Figure 1.
Fig. 1. Involution and evolution
In the previous section we looked from an Indian consciousness-centred perspective at Darwin's evolution of life within matter, and of mind within embodied life. We will now look at what might have happened before that: how did the physical world in which this evolution took place come into being? Or to say it more paradoxically: what happened "before" the big bang, if that makes sense given that with the big bang not only mass, energy and the laws of physics, but even space and time may well have popped into existence. From where did it all come?
As we saw earlier, the Indian tradition developed the amazingly powerful concept of saccidānanda, a unity of true being, consciousness and bliss, as description of the nature of the ultimate reality. So in the end, according to Vedanta, the universe must be coming from that ultimate reality of saccidānanda. The difficulty with this theory is that for most of us, the actual world in which we live doesn't look perfect, conscious and joyful at all. It is an issue that in different forms has plagued humanity for as long as we know. On the one hand, we humans have an indefeasible faith that there must be something Divine beyond the life we know, and that, ultimately, this Divine must be good, but we also have the daily experience that life is not that great at all, so what happened? Even if we manage to discern a divine Presence within or behind all appearances, it is still hard to deny the practical day-to-day reality of suffering, pain, death, incapacity, deliberate evil and cruelty. For most of us these things are part of our lived experience and a very real aspect of our lives. Where did they come from? How could a God who is good, have created a world which is not, or in the more abstract language of Vedanta, how could the absolute splendour of saccidānanda give rise to the strangely imperfect and conflicted world we know?
This is not a simple or small question, and it asks for answers at many different levels. On a pragmatic, human level, what should our attitude be to our own pain, and to the pain of others? What should we do with our own errors and what with those of others? Is there a realistic chance we can eradicate pain? Do pain and suffering serve a purpose? Does cruelty? Do we have a choice in how we experience things? Should our first priority be changing the world or changing ourselves? To these existential questions we'll come back later in the chapters on self-development and therapy. Here we'll try to answer the more technical, theoretical question of how it might actually have happened. This too, is, of course, not that easy to answer. The oldest Indian text, the Ṛg Veda, ends its description of the creation of the world by saying — with a rather modern sounding scepticism — "Only the gods know how it happened, or perhaps even they don't know." [REF & exact text] But still, there are some explanations that are more convincing than others. I'm giving here Sri Aurobindo's. The basic idea is simple enough and as we will see shortly, it leads to a highly optimistic vision of the long term future of humanity. There are several riders to this story, which we will take up later in this book, but here is the basic idea.
Exclusive concentration as the mechanism behind māyā
In the Indian tradition, right from Vedic times, the force that is held responsible for creation is called māyā, and much of the differences between the various schools of Indian philosophy and yoga centre around the way māyā is understood. In essence, māyā is simply the power of manifestation, but how this power is appreciated changed considerably over time. In later philosophical texts, māyā obtains the meaning of illusion, a power which creates an imaginary world that looks real enough to the ignorant, but that has no true existence in itself. Yoga is then described as the process through which one wakes up out of that illusion into the Truth. In the māyāvādin traditions, this position is taken to its extreme and the entire world is considered as māyā in its most derogatory sense, that is, as an illusion, a veil of ignorance or an imposition, adhyāropa, on the purity and immutability of the silent Absolute.1
It is important to note that the largely negative meaning of māyā is not there in the earliest texts of the Indian tradition. In the Ṛg Veda, māyā is still simply a creative power of the Divine which measures out the worlds in front of itself. The quality of the created world depends on the consciousness of origin and as a result there are many different kinds of māyā. In some places the word is used for the true power of manifestation that belongs to the divine Mother herself. In others, it belongs to a lesser light, not a fully fraudulent lie, but still dark compared to the light of Surya (the Sun) and as such an illusion to be slain (e.g. RV 5.40).
Sri Aurobindo compares the main process through which Brahman manifests the world out of itself with the kind of “exclusive concentration” that is part of our ordinary mental consciousness. At our human level, exclusive concentration expresses itself in our ability to concentrate on a limited sub-set of all that we can potentially experience at any given moment. When you read this text, for example, your consciousness is guided along by what you read: things like your physical posture, the room in which you sit, your programme for tomorrow, a zebra, and the house in which you grew up enter your consciousness only when this text brings them to your attention.
At the cosmic level, where in Sri Aurobindo's conception, consciousness includes the power of creation, Sri Aurobindo describes exclusive concentration as “a self-limitation by Idea proceeding from an infinite liberty within”. He then argues that the manifestation of the world out of saccidānanda could have taken place through a simple combination of only two basic powers that must have been present in the original consciousness: (1) the ability to split itself into many instances of itself, and then (2) the ability to apply, in each of these instances, the power of exclusive concentration (2005, p. 281). As we will see later, the first of these two is the reason whey we, tiny, insignificant creatures as we are, can still in some mysterious way, know the Divine. It might also be related to those strange phenomena in physics where particles behave at the same time as if they are numerically one and numerically many. The second is the origin of the svabhava, the true spiritual nature of things (including ourselves). As we saw, this could have happened in roughly the same manner that our ordinary human mind thinks of different things at different times, except that it must have worked on a more solid existential level, not creating a variety of images in one individual human awareness, but a variety of objectively existing objects in a range of objectively existing subtle worlds. In terms of qualities one could say that while the absolute conscious being of the Divine is inherently anantaguṇa, of infinite quality, each individual entity in these subtle worlds comes into being with the specific qualities it has because it crystallises by exclusive concentration into a different subset of that infinity of qualities. In this way a large variety of different entities can come into being, each with its own svabhāva, self-nature, that together populate the hierarchy of occult, typal worlds.
All this may look strange to us as we have all undergone such a solidly physicalist education that we tend to see only physical things as real. We think that all ideas are abstractions derived from that real, physical world, and that creation is inherently and exclusively a bottom-up construction. But this is not how the world actually works. It is not only poets and story-tellers that create personalties and adventures in thin air. Builders, architects, and industrial designers too, first detail out a plan top-down, and only secondarily get it constructed bottom-up. Why would the awe-inspiring creation of the cosmos not have proceeded in the same way? One need not imagine an over-sized human being creating a pot out of clay, but one can think of a "powerful idea" exercising an influence enforcing its own manifestation. The existence of an occult hierarchy of subtle objects, beings and forces is reported on by mystics in all major civilizations. And it is not just the mystics who took the possibility of self-realising ideas for possible. The hypothesis of a top-down creation through exclusive concentration is in harmony with the idealist philosophy of Plato and most major philosophers in the pre-modern West [FN/REFs]. As for the hierarchy of occult planes, the descriptions given in different civilizations may look quite different at first sight, but at closer inspection it becomes clear that they have enough in common to assume that they are all descriptions of one and the same, independently existing reality of which different people in different civilizations have seen and described different aspects.
For this text, we'll use the Vedic description of this inner reality, as it is one of the oldest and as it seems to have had a significant influence on many other systems. It consists (in its most simple form) of three parts: an upper, divine hemisphere of saccidānanda, which is transcendent, undifferentiated and unmanifest. A lower world of subtle mind, life and matter of which we all know the diminished forms that are part of the evolving physical world. And in between these two hemispheres, a link-plane, which is, like the world above it, perfectly divine, and yet, like the world below it, differentiated. The Vedic rishis called this link-plane, the maharloka; the Upanishads the vijñāna māyā kosha; the Greeks knew it is as something that can only be known trough the highest type of non-dual knowledge, gnosis; Sri Aurobindo calls it the Supramental [REF].
We will now have a more detailed look at the processes that may have taken place during the involution and evolution, and see why it is this link-plane that carries in it the secret of our our future.
Involution and evolution revisited
As we have seen, in Sri Aurobindo's vision everything in the universe, however inconscient it may appear on the surface, is actually permeated with consciousness. What is more, this conscious universe is evolving, and if Sri Aurobindo's essentially Vedic hypothesis is right, there was an occult involution of consciousness before the manifest evolution which science discovered. If we add the main points of what we discussed in the previous two sections to the diagram of involution and evolution we saw earlier, the full picture might look something like Figure 2.
Fig. 2. The process of involution and evolution till now
Ascent and Integration
There is on the left, in the subtle, inner worlds, an involution, a descent, a gradual diminution of consciousness from the absolute perfection of saccidānanda, via the perfect but not yet manifest supramental world, to the lesser and lesser forms of consciousness we have called mind, vital and physical, till we have, at the bottom of the picture, the total darkness of an utter Nescience. In the account given by science, this is when the "Big Bang" takes place. And everything to the right of this point is part of the manifest, "gross-physical" world. An interesting aspect of the scientific account is that all the laws of physics must have been operative right from that first moment. In the consciousness-centred Indian conception, that same lawfulness is called Brahman, the consciousness of the Divine, a divine consciousness which is absolutely everywhere, even hidden deep within the darkness. We leave it to the reader to what extent this difference is substantial or just a matter of language, but where both sides agree is that from this apparent darkness, the universe begins to evolve. According to the Indian version it does this partly pushed by the hidden Divinity within, partly pulled and molded by the higher types of consciousness that are already present in the typal worlds which were created during the involution. Both are part of the omniscience of the Divine, and it is this that creates the fabulous harmony and beauty one sees in the inanimate material universe. As Sri Aurobindo says (2005, p. 359),
the force [acts] automatically and with an apparent blindness as in a trance, but still with the inevitability and power of truth of the Infinite.
One of the most fascinating aspects of the Indian description of this evolutionary process is that it is not just a re-ascent back up the same ladder of consciousness it assumes we came down from. There is also an integration of the new with the old, of the higher with the lower: when life arises out of matter, there are not just wafts of vital energy but flowers and tigers; when mind arises from life, there are not just free-floating ideas but intelligent people who hold those ideas. In short, there is not just an ascent but an "ascent and integration". And that is how we humans can live in the freedom of the mind's creativity, while being pushed by the adventurous spirit of our vital energy and supported by the sturdiness of our physical embodiment.2
The three types of consciousness that have manifested so far
As we have seen in the beginning of this chapter, inanimate things — whether fundamental particles or more complex man-made objects — are sufficiently conscious to know how to be and how to react to their surrounding according to the laws of nature. Beyond this, they have no awareness, no freedom, no agency: their consciousness is essentially stuck inside itself.
At the level of Life, consciousness is sufficiently emancipated to allow living beings to have more sophisticated interactions with their environment. There is a rudimentary awareness of themselves and their immediate surroundings and the ability to assert and rebuild their own complex structures out of the much simpler material they find around themselves. There is playfulness and movement, and the consciousness in living beings is sufficiently individualised to engage in complex relationships.
As we have seen, at the level of the Mind, there are three new powers of consciousness. The first two are well-established in humanity. At the human level, the nervous-system-based mental consciousness is emancipated sufficiently for individual human beings to develop ever-more complex models of the physical reality. What is more, since we have learned to make tools, and share and process the symbol-renderings of our knowledge with ever-increasing efficiency, we are building together an ever-faster-growing quantity of this kind of constructed, "artificial" knowledge and know-how. And with this increasingly complex collective knowledge-base there has come an increasing ability to plan and execute ever more complex actions. Nature is clearly busy perfecting and expanding these mental faculties in us at a tremendous, ever-increasing speed, not only individually but also collectively.
The third power of the mind does not appear to be as well-established or quickly progressive as the first. It is our ability to consciously change the basic working of our own consciousness. There are two sides to this. The first is related to our own psychological functioning. The second to those subtle, inner worlds to which objective science has no access. The early beginnings of the first are common enough. Most people have some basic control over their emotions, attitude and mental focus. Psychologists do their best and counsellors and therapists have a much richer and better researched toolbox at their disposal than a hundred years ago, but in terms of creativity, in the development of entirely new psychological skills and faculties, we have not made the kind of progress humanity has made in the objective, physical domain.
As for the second, the spiritual aspiration of man, most people have at least some vague sense that there is something divine beyond the ordinary physical world. For those who want to go further, there are many different spiritual paths, and given that the Divine must be anantaguna, of infinite quality, this is to be expected: the Divine can be sought and found in any direction. In practice, however, most spiritual schools don't try to reach the Divine in its full splendour or for the Divine's sake. Especially the more popular ones are focussed, like mainstream psychology, on making the ordinary life more bearable. Amongst those who look for the Divine for the Divine's sake, the vast majority seeks Him or Her in one specific personal form. The extremely small group of those who seek uncompromisingly for the "absolute Absolute", encounter a problem that in a rather intriguing and indirect way points at a radically new possibility for humanity's future. This is what we will have a look at now.
The issue of samadhi
Given that out physical bodies are extremely small and short-lived, moving around on one of the planets of an utterly mediocre star in a random suburb of one out of zillions of galaxies that make up the universe, the Divine should, logically speaking, be way beyond our human ken. Strangely enough, and I would say sweetly enough, this is not fully true. Newton is supposed to have said, "I don't claim to know the ocean, all I know are a few of the pebbles on the beach." And it is correct that we cannot know the Divine in the same way that we know the pebbles on the beach, since that would require an inconceivable scaling up of our cognitive instrumentation. But we can know the Divine in a different way, and that is "by identity". As we have seen, the Vedic tradition holds that the Divine is present in every nook and corner of the universe. By itself this is something that has been known by mystics and poets in all major civilizations. Children all over the world learn Tennyson's famous lines by heart:
Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies,
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower—but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.
What the indian tradition adds is, that we can actually do what Tennyson wistfully asks for.The reason is that the Divine is also there in us, and our consciousness is in its very essence still one with the consciousness of the Divine. So, we can know Him/ Her/ That because we are That already, at least in our pure, absolutely transcendent essence. To be and know anything in its absolute purity, kailvalya, a full transformation of our manifest nature is not required. The only demand on the outer nature is that it needs to be sufficiently quiet so that the centre of our awareness can move spontaneously from an already quiet, sattvic mind towards pure consciousness. In Samkhya's terminology, one could say that the center of one's individual identity has to move from one's individual portion of prakṛti towards one's individual puruṣa, and this becomes possible when the outer nature becomes sufficiently similar to the inner consciousness. As such, the process is similar to the movement in which one shifts the starting point of self-observation from a quiet mind to the pure witness consciousness, sakshi, [LINKS] except that it includes one's entire being and the scale and intensity are of a different order.
The practical result is, that it is possible to "jump" by the sheer power of concentration from a high state of embodied mental awareness straight to the Transcendent or to the formless, featureless essence of the personal and cosmic Divine without having achieved (or needed) any mastery or even knowledge of the intermediate layers. (In Figure 2, this has been indicated as a small hash through the arrow that rises upward from the mind.) There are many ways to do this, an intense love, a complete surrender, an exceptionally one-pointed concentration. All these can lead to a situation in which one is either in a transcendent trance, or awake in the shared human world, but not, or at least not fully, in both at the same time. This does not mean that there can be no carry-over from the higher into the lower. There can be slowly increasing reflections from the higher levels on the lower mental planes, but they do not reach a sufficient intensity to accomplish a genuine and complete transformation of the lower nature. In other words, this jump, however tempting, is a short-cut and may not be where our ultimate destiny is to be found.
Going back or going forward
If there is any truth in what we have discussed so far, then humanity has reached a point where individuals have two very different options for their further spiritual development. As we mentioned before, most traditional schools of Indian spirituality recommend to forget about the world and strive for individual or collective liberation from our suffering through mokṣa or nirvāṇa. Even when they appear to be more "life-affirming", closer scrutiny tends to show that this is no more than a concession to those who were traditionally called "householders", those who were not (yet) ready to forego their responsibilities to kith and kin. This is the first option. But, if Sri Aurobindo is right, we have another option: to go bravely forward to the next stage in the world's evolution.
Schematically these two options can be depicted as in Figure 3.
Fig. 3. Involution and evolution: two options for the future
At present, humanity is fully engaged with the development of what in Figure 3 is called the "Embodied Mind". We have become amazingly good at physical engineering but as yet we haven't reached very far with the management of our social and psychological life. Spiritually, we seem to stand at the crossroads where we can merge back into the featureless Transcendent from which it all started, or struggle forwards to complete the evolution of which we are a part. It is true that this choice need not be as starkly binary as the diagram suggests. On the one hand a certain purification of one's nature is needed before one can hope to find the Transcendent, and on the other hand, it may be necessary to have at least some sense of the Transcendent before one can successfully attempt the road towards transformation. In practice, it is, moreover, quite possible to follow both paths, and the traveller can, for example, pursue the Transcendent before proceeding towards humanity's further destiny. But still, the issue can turn into a painful conflict, for example when one tries to follow a traditional school of spirituality of which the ultimate objective is more otherworldly than one's modern way of thinking is comfortable with.4
As for Infinity in a Drop, in Figure 3, the path to the left depicts what we described in an earlier chapter as the path leading to the immersion of the drop back into the ocean from where it came, while the path to the right represents the attempt at transforming the drop into a dynamic centre of the Light, Truth and Power of the infinite ocean. It is this path to the right which is the adventure of consciousness and joy5 that forms the central theme of Infinity in a Drop and the raison d'être of its integral approach to psychology.
1. To give one striking example, Swami Sivananda, who was in his time considered by many to have the same spiritual stature as Sri Aurobindo and Sri Ramana Maharshi, quotes in one of his books, and clearly in agreement with it, a recommendation by Adi Shankara to look at everything, good and bad, as no better than “the excrement of a crow”. (Adi Shankara, as quoted by Swami Sivananda, 1983/1998, [REFs with dates of both original texts]).
2. The term "ascent and integration" is often attributed to Ken Wilber, but Sri Aurobindo used it many years earlier in the title of one of the chapters of The Life Divine (a book which Ken Wilber refers to in his writing).
3. While the Indian civilization and modernity share an interest in personal progress, they have entirely different ideas about the nature of that progress and a very different long-term perspective on our early history. An interesting example is that modernity's interest in our remote past focuses on the production of tools and weapons, and so it starts its history with stone and sees the transition from bronze to iron as progress. The Indian civilization has a focus on spiritual understanding, begins its story with (symbolic) gold, and looks at the transition from bronze to iron as decline.
4. We'll come back to this in the chapter on self-development.[INTERNAL LINK to be added]
5. Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, p. 2.
For an in-depth comparison of three
different concepts of consciousness:
For a one-page overview of the integral concept
of consciousness as used in Infinity in a Drop:
For a few lines of Sri Aurobindo's epic poem Savitri,
which describe the evolution of consciousness:
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