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<title>The Soul's Odyssey</title>
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<p align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center; line-height:150%;margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0"><b>
<span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'><font size="4">The
Soul's Odyssey</font><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<div class=Section1>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><b><i><span lang=EN-GB
style='mso-bidi-font-size:15.0pt;font-family:"Arial Narrow";mso-ansi-language:
EN-GB'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></i></b></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Our birth
is but a sleep and a forgetting:<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>The Soul
that rises with us, our life's Star,<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:center 91.2pt;mso-layout-grid-align:none;
text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Hath had elsewhere its setting,<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:center 91.2pt;mso-layout-grid-align:none;
text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>And cometh from afar:<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:center 91.2pt;mso-layout-grid-align:none;
text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Not in entire forgetfulness,<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:center 91.2pt;mso-layout-grid-align:none;
text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>And not in utter nakedness,<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>But
trailing clouds of glory do we come<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:22.8pt;mso-layout-grid-align:none;
text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>From God, who is our home ¹: </span><span lang=EN-GB
style='mso-bidi-font-size:13.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>. . .<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:22.8pt;mso-layout-grid-align:none;
text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:13.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:27.0pt;mso-line-height-alt:
12.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
lang=EN-GB style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>R</span><span
lang=EN-GB style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>ARELY</span><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> has a
poet – a secular poet, I mean – given utterance to deep spiritual and occult
truth with such clarity and felicity. It is, however, quite open to doubt
whether Wordsworth himself was fully cognisant of the truth he expressed; the
words that were put into his mouth carry <span class=GramE>a significance</span>
and a symbolism considerably beyond what his mind seemed to have received and
understood. The passage may be taken as one more illustration of Matthew
Arnold's characterisation of Wordsworth's genius at its best, it is then Nature
herself that takes up the pen and writes for the poet.<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:27.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>The deep
spiritual truth we are referring to is the Odyssey of the human soul. And it is
also an occult phenomenon happening in the world of the inner reality. The
Soul's own home is in God, is God; for it is part and parcel of the divine
consciousness, it is essentially one in being and nature with the supreme
Reality. It is a nucleus, a centre of individuation, a projection in a
particular name and form of the infinite and eternal Being and Consciousness
and Bliss on this side of mani­festation or evolutionary Nature. Being in and
with the Divine, merged within it, the Soul has, at the same time, its own </span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:27.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>&nbsp;</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:27.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>¹</span><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:8.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> </span><span
lang=EN-GB style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Wordsworth: <i>Ode
on the Intimations of Immortality</i><span
style='mso-tab-count:1'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>

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<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;tab-stops:142.05pt;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:
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<span lang=EN-GB style='font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Page-119<o:p></o:p></span></p>

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<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;mso-line-height-alt:11.75pt;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
class=GramE><span lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:
EN-GB'>proper</span><span lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> domain, exclusively its own, and its own inalienable
identity. It is the domain where the Soul enjoys its <span class=SpellE><i>swarajya</i></span><i>,
</i>its absolute freedom, dwelling in its native light and happiness and glory.
But the story changes, the curve of its destiny takes
a sudden new direction when it comes down upon earth, when it inhabits a mortal
body. Within the body, it no longer occupies its patent frontal position, but
withdraws behind a veil, as it were: it takes its stand behind or within the
depth of the heart, as spiritual practice experiences it. It hides there, as in
a cavern, closed in now by the shades of the prison-house which its own body
and life and mind build round it. Yet it is not wholly shut out or completely
cut off; for from its secret home it exerts its influence which gradually,
slowly, very slowly indeed, filters through – bathes, clarifies, illumines the
encasement, makes it transparent and docile in the end. For that is the Soul's
ultimate function and fulfilment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:27.0pt;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>In the
meanwhile, however, &quot;our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.&quot; A
physical incarnation clouds the soul-cons­ciousness and involves loss of memory,
amnesia. The soul's travail therefore in a physical body is precisely to regain
the memory of what has been forgotten. Spiritual discipline means at bottom
this remembering, and all culture too means nothing more than that – that is
also what Plato thought when he said that all knowledge, all true knowledge
consists in reminiscence.<o:p></o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:27.0pt;mso-line-height-alt:
11.75pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Man, in
his terrestrial body, although fallen, because shrouded and diverted from his
central being of light and fire, is yet not, as I have said, wholly forsaken
and cut adrift. He always carries within him that radiant core through all the
peregrinations of earthly sojourn. And though the frontal consciousness, the
physical memory has no contact with it, there is a stream of inner
consciousness that continues to maintain the link. That is the silver lining to
the dark cloud that envelops and engulfs our normal life. And that is why at
times – not <span class=SpellE>unoften</span>-there occurs a crack, a fissure
in the crust of our earthly nature of ignorance and a tongue of flame leaps out
– one or other perhaps of the seven sisters of which the Upanishad speaks. And
then a mere man becomes a saint, a seer, a poet, a prophet, a hero. This is the
flaming godhead whom we cherish within, Agni, the leader of our progressive
life, the great Sacrifice, the child whom we<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></p>

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<span lang=EN-GB style='font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Page-120<o:p></o:p></span></p>

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<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class=GramE><span
lang=EN-GB style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>nourish, birth
after birth, by all that we experience and do and achieve. To live normally and
naturally in that fiery element – like the legendary Salamander – to mould
one's consciousness and being, one's substance and constitution, even the
entire cellular organisation into the radiant truth is the goal of man's
highest aspiration, the ultimate end of Nature's evolutionary urge and the
cycle of rebirth.</span></span><span lang=EN-GB
style='mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></p>

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&nbsp;</p>
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<span
lang=EN-GB style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Page-121<o:p></o:p></span></p>

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