Little children, as they progress through the first year of their lives, explore their bodies and the world around them. They eventually realise that objects, and people, are external to them. This exploration, begun when we are in the womb, does not cease as we grow. If anything, it becomes more intense, particularly as we begin articulating the goals of our search.

What those goals will be is determined by a range of factors, which include cultural values, world-views, heroes and the injury we suffer early in life, which becomes the material with which we work to develop our potential.

Goals

Most goals are focused on survival. Some are basic, and concerned with how to get through the day. Others are attempts at transcending our finitude. These immortality projects take many forms. Those who have dismissed the possibility of an afterlife have attempted to immortalize themselves in their children, in their productions, or their monuments. Others have placed their hope in a future existence. The Egyptian pyramids are testimony to our otherworldly aspirations. Still others have attempted to penetrate the veil of death, exploring the paranormal, and placing their faith in mediums. Some are so convinced that there is an afterlife that their confidence appears to be [127] beyond challenge. It is supported by religious mythology, and reflected in their willingness to die as martyrs.

Others have committed themselves to exploring the dynamics of suffering. They have wanted to know why suffering occurs, and how it can be transcended. This has taken two forms. The first, which offers immediate benefits, is concerned with medical research. The second has sought to identify elements of human nature--our drivenness, our craving--that cause us unnecessary suffering. This has been the Buddhist quest.

Some have been so burdened by guilt that their lives have been consumed by the search for relief. There have been those that have offered them salvation from sin, or relief from false guilt. The sacrament of reconciliation has been proffered by both priests and therapists.

The quest for some is focused on enlightenment.

Some have been desperate to discover some meaning in life. Others have been pre-occupied gaining knowledge and garnering wisdom. Others, again, have wanted to discover whether this life is all there is, or whether there is a reality beyond that which we discern with our senses--a Universal Mind or Divine Spirit, a Cosmic Consciousness that sustains the phenomenological world in existence, that creates it anew each moment. They want to verify their intimations of immortality.

There is no lack of guides offering advice. Most want to point out that the goal to which they are committed is the only goal worth pursuing. Their way is the only way, their god the only God. Refusal to worship their god will ensure one's damnation. We are to model our lives after those considered to be incarnations of the deity, or mouthpieces [128] for his revelations. At the other end of the spectrum, are those who contend that our search for answers is a personal affair. It is for this reason that it has been suggested to followers of the Buddha, that, should they encounter him on the road, they should kill him. It is pointed out that he did not want people to be attached to him, to parrot his thoughts, or to rigidly model their lives on his. The years have increased my sympathy for the second approach, in spite of the fact that I have been nurtured by aspects of the former.

We should seek the truth for ourselves and refuse to be bound by ideological, mythological, or theological boundaries. As Meister Eckhart indicated, if he had to choose between God and the truth, he would choose the truth. In seeking the truth, in penetrating the inner dimensions of reality, we will need to familiarize ourselves with the instrument we will use in our investigation, that is, ourselves. It will be important to become acquainted with the many layers of the self. It is when each of these layers is acting in concert that the bodyself can reach beyond itself to a spiritual dimension that cradles the phenomenological universe in its embrace. Meditative exercises facilitate this process. Furthermore, the testimony of contemplatives of all religious traditions, in spite of differences in mythological symbolism, points to the universality of the experience to which they bear witness--an engagement with a foundational, supra-mundane Reality. Christian Mystics, Islamic Sufis, Buddhist and Hindu contemplatives contribute to this testimony.

While the quest, for some, involves the exploration of deeply personal issues, or philosophical questions concerned with meaning and suffering, others have set out in search of a political Utopia. [129]

The utopias suggested by some have been theocracies. The Hebrew prophets envisaged a future and in which the nations of the world would converge upon Mount Zion, in Jerusalem, where Yahweh, their god, would be universally acclaimed as the only true God. Judaism looked forward to a return of the glories of the Davidic era, the golden age of Israel's expansion. Christian Utopias have taken many forms. While some groups have sought to establish communities based on their understanding of the Christian Scriptures, others have despaired of ever creating the Kingdom of Heaven on earth and have looked forward to the return of Christ and the establishment of his thousand-year reign. Others, again, have been fascinated by the possibility of a gradual evolution of the promised Kingdom, which they imagined would result from the cumulative influence of Christian belief and practice, together with an evangelization of the nations. Islamic fundamentalism argues that the Islamic State, in which the regulations of the Koran are stringently enforced, reflects the ideal community. Conquest is justified on the basis of this aspiration.

Secular versions of the ideal political Utopia have taken many forms. One of the first of these, outlined in Plato's Republic, suggested that the ideal world would be ruled by the intelligent. Robert Owen, who argued that Christianity was the bane of well-meaning reformers, established a number of colonies where his ideals were trialed. B.F. Skinner, in Walden Two, contended that positive conditioning could transform society.

The two great schemes for transforming society that dominated the twentieth century were European Democracy, which traces its roots back to Athenian democracy, and Communism, whose utopian ideal was an attenuated form of Christian Millenarianism. Marx argued that he could discern, in the sweep of history, the influence [130] of economic forces that were responsible for society progressing from primitive communism, to feudalism, to capitalism, to communism. He went on to argue that this inexorable development would result in the emergence of a classless society.

These two schemes represented opposed polarities. Democracy, supported by the economic theories of Adam Smith, argued that the individual should be the focus of attention. Once his energies were released, through the granting of political and economic freedom, he would contribute to the betterment of society, and to the progress of the race. Under Communism, on the other hand, the emphasis was on the State, rather than the individual, and the economy, rather than being stimulated by individual initiative, which led to the alienation of the worker, was placed under the paternal direction of State authorities.

Both Democracy and Communism, as ideological emphases, had much to recommend them. Democracy encouraged initiative, by rewarding it, while at the same time establishing safeguards against autocracy. Communism emphasized the ideal of equality, and the need for people to work together to achieve a common good. In practice, however, neither delivered what it promised. Capitalism, which fuelled democracy, increased avarice, self-centredness, and the disparity between rich and poor. Communism, in the interests of the State, curtailed freedom, rewarded ideological purity, consigned dissenters to a network of Gulags, encouraged indolence and alcoholism, and proved economically unworkable, causing massive dislocation and hardship.

There is no perfect utopian vision. There never will be. Human nature being what it is, it will subvert any system. It would appear, however, despite its drawbacks, that participatory democracy, involving a separation of powers between the executive, the legislature and the judiciary, a free press, a balance between free enterprise, regulation and provision for the indigent, is our best option. It is not foolproof, and it needs to be nurtured, safeguarded and continually fine-tuned. There are no other serious contenders in the market, particularly when it comes to managing large, industrialized nations.

The Problem of Evil

In our quest for salvation, enlightenment, and meaning we invariable bump into the problem of evil.

In addressing the issue of evil most opt for some form of dualism.

Monotheistic religions influenced by Zoroastrianism--Judaism, Christianity and Islam--argue that evil originated, not in God, but in a source external to God, in some form of demonic intelligence. Most of us adopt a similar approach. Unaware of the war between good and evil within ourselves, we attribute evil to forces external to us. We divide the world into the good and the bad, situating ourselves among the good. Our anger at those we consider evil derives, in part, from our having projected elements of our perversity onto those we have labeled evil. The same principle operates in the political realm, where the evil in the national shadow is projected onto one's enemy. For the Soviets, during the Cold War, America was the devil. Americans replied in kind, demonizing the Soviet Union. It was a case of mutual projection. Neither was willing to admit that the behaviour it excoriated in its antagonist was a projection of its own unacknowledged evil. [131]

While this sort of dualism is unhelpful, the notion that evil, as well as good, originates with God, most find unpalatable, particularly where God is seen as wholly loving. This was the position adopted by the Israelites prior to their contact with Zoroastrianism. Yahweh was seen to be the source of both good and evil. This view was revived by Carl Jung, in his Answer To Job. Jung argued that if humans, who had a shadow side, were made in the image of God, then God must have a dark side. Broadening this perspective, he argued that God created the universe, and particularly humankind, so that by incarnating himself in his creation, he could differentiate the two aspects of his being. It is hardly surprising that most churchmen were offended by his explanation.

The fact that we are a mixture of light and dark, of good and evil, of intelligence and idiocy, of honest aspirations and perversity, is evident, not only from a Jungian analysis of personality, but from a cursory observation of our theorizing and behaviour. Even in our most brilliant insights there are flawed elements, misperceptions and erroneous conclusions. It is also obvious that it is impossible for us to do good without perpetrating evil at the same time. Moral dilemmas are rarely simple. We need to deny some principles to fulfil others, which we consider weightier, or more stringent. Our hands are never clean. If we were to give priority to maintaining clean hands, we would have abdicated our moral responsibility.

Eastern religious traditions argue that, while we cannot root out evil altogether, because the two are so entwined, we can transcend the dichotomy between them in a unity that acknowledges both. This does not solve the problem on a cognitive level. The duality is transcended by being lived, or through our awareness of being born along by life. [132]

The Inward and Outward Journeys

The quest on which we embark at conception involves both inward and outward journeys.

There is a tendency for introverts to regard the inner journey as all-important and for extroverts to consider that those who do not give priority to the outward journey are misguided. Both perspectives are reductionist. The inward journey, and the outward journey, belong together. The inward journey, in the absence of outward involvements, may be a disguised form of escapism. On the other hand, to launch into the outward journey, in the absence of any internal reflection, can lead to loss of perspective, and may result in our damaging ourselves, others and the environment. Ken Wilber's distinction between Ascenders and Descenders is helpful at this point. According to Wilber, Ascenders are those who are committed to exploring the limits of human consciousness. Descenders are those who are passionately involved in the life of the community. Wilber argued that authentic ascent involves a consequent descent, and that those who are not interested in the latter are fuelled, not be eros (loving desire) but by fobos (fear). On the other hand, Descenders, who have disdained reflection, and never attempted to understand themselves, promote death rather than life, chaos rather than resolution.

There are cultural differences reflected in this dichotomy. On the one hand, children in America are brought up to feel that the world needs to be fixed up, and that it is their duty to assume this responsibility. On the other hand, children born in China, and influenced by a Confucian and Taoist ethos, are encouraged to develop an inner strength that allows them to flow with life, rather than attempting to aggressively confront it. [133]

It is important that we work at achieving a balance between the inward and outward journeys. As each of us begins life with a bias towards one or the other, we need to ensure that we explore that dimension of the journey with which we are least familiar. If we are activists, it will be important for us to cultivate a capacity for reflection, to familiarize ourselves with meditative techniques, so that our activism is moderated by a contemplative attitude to life. On the other hand, those who have been committed to pursuing personal transformation early in their lives need to begin making a contribution to the transformation of society, and the salvation of the planet. The more we involve ourselves in the dimension of the journey that is not our preferred way of operating, the more we will discover that the initiative can be shared between the inner and outer aspects of our experience.

Cautions

It is important for us to realise that growth is always shadowed by pathologies, whether this growth involves individuals or communities.

It is also critical for us to appreciate that there are other ways of pursuing the search than those that we adopt. We should not try and impose our way, or our priorities, on others. We each have unique gifts and responsibilities. Furthermore, there is no one way that is right for everybody. When we are tempted to criticize another's beliefs, or behaviour, we should keep in mind the dictum of John Stuart Mill that we are usually right in what we affirm and wrong in what we deny.

It is also important to recognise that the journey will never be complete. We will never be in possession of an ultimate answer. Nevertheless, in spite of this lack of finality, or [134] completeness, and the fact that the journey is unending, we can sense when we are headed in the right direction. We know when we are approaching the territory we have been seeking.

There will also be times when we will recognise that our view has been partial, or in error, a view that we may have been seeking to impose on others. There will be many occasions when we will need to re-work our maps. This does not justify us hanging our heads in shame. We need to be aware of the danger of adopting an over-moralistic attitude towards the search, and towards ourselves.

It is important that we learn to live the tension between energetically pursuing the search, and accepting ourselves as we are. We can so pressurize ourselves that we abort the journey. Living this tension becomes increasingly possible as we live out of the deeper dimensions of ourselves. [135]

[ROI 127-135]