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<p class="paracenter">VII</p>
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<p class="paracenter">DYNAMIC FATALISM
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&quot;The supramental change is a thing decreed and inevitable.&quot; If it is so, then what is the necessity at all of work and labour and travail— this difficult process of sadhana? The question is rather naive, but it is very often asked. The answer also could be very simple. The change decreed is precisely worked out through the travail: one is the end, the other is the means; the goal and the process, both are decreed and inevitable. If it is argued, supposing none made the effort, even then would the change come about, in spite of man's inaction? Well, first of all, this is an impossible supposition. Man cannot remain idle even for a moment: not only the inferior Nature, but the higher Nature too is always active in him— remember the words of the Gita—though behind the veil, in the inner consciousness. Secondly, if if is really so, if man is not labouring
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<br><p class="pageno">Page-94</p>
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<p class="para">and working and making the attempt, then it must be understood that the time has not yet come for him to undergo the change, he has still to wait: one of the signs of the imminence of the change is this very intensity and extensiveness of the labour among mankind. If, however, a particular person chooses to do nothing, prefers to wait and see—hopes in the end to jump at the fruit all at once and possess it or hopes the fruit to drop quietly into his mouth—well, this does not seem to be a likely happening. If one wishes to enjoy the fruit, one must share in the effort to sow and&quot; grow. Indeed, the process itself of reaching the higher consciousness involves a gradual heightening of the consciousness. The means is really part of the end. The joy of victory is the consummation of the joy of battle.
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Man can help or retard the process of Nature, in a sense. If his force of consciousness acts in line with Nature's secret movement, then that movement is accelerated: through the soul or self that is man, it is the Divine, Nature's lord and master who drives and helps Nature forward. If, on the contrary, man follows
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<br><p class="pageno">Page-95</p>
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<p class="para">his lesser self, his lower ego, rajasic and tamasic, then he throws up obstacles and barriers which hamper and slow down Nature's march.
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In a higher sense, from a transcendental standpoint, however, this too is only an appearance. In reality man neither helps nor hinders Prakriti. For in that sphere the two are not separate entities. What is viewed as the helping hand of man is really Nature helping herself: man is the conscious movement of Nature. In that transcendent status the past and the future are rolled together in the eternal present and all exist there as an accomplished fact: there is nothing there to be worked out and achieved. But lower down there is a play of forces, of conflicting possibilities and the resultant is a balance of these divergent lines. When one identifies oneself with the higher static consciousness one finds nothing to be done, all is realised—&quot;the eternal play of the eternal child in the eternal garden&quot;. But when one lives in the Kurukshetra of forces, one cannot throw away one's Gandiva and say, &quot;I will not fight&quot;.
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<br><p class="pageno">Page-96</p>
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