Gurdjieff: Mysticism, Contemplation, and Exercises (Oxford Studies in Western Esotericism) 9780190064075, 0190064072

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Gurdjieff

OXFORD STUDIES IN WESTERN ESOTERICISM Series Editor Henrik Bogdan, University of Gothenburg Editorial Board Jean-Pierre Brach, École Pratique des Hautes Études Carole Cusack, University of Sydney Christine Ferguson, University of Stirling Olav Hammer, University of Southern Denmark Wouter Hanegraaff, University of Amsterdam Ronald Hutton, University of Bristol Jeffrey Kripal, Rice University James R. Lewis, University of Tromsø Michael Stausberg, University of Bergen Egil Asprem, University of Stockholm Dylan Burns, Freie Universität Berlin Gordan Djurdjevic, Siimon Fraser University Peter Forshaw, University of Amsterdam Jesper Aa. Petersen, Norwegian University of Science and Technology CHILDREN OF LUCIFER The Origins of Modern Religious Satanism Ruben van Luijk SATANIC FEMINISM Lucifer as the Liberator of Woman in Nineteenth-Century Culture Per Faxneld THE SIBLYS OF LONDON A Family on the Esoteric Fringes of Gregorian England Susan Sommers WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE DEAD? Near-Death Experiences, Christianity, and the Occult Jens Schlieter AMONG THE SCIENTOLOGISTS History, Theology, and Praxis Donald A. Westbrook RECYCLED LIVES A History of Reincarnation in Blavatsky’s Theosophy Julie Chajes THE ELOQUENT BLOOD The Goddess Babalon and the Construction of Femininities in Western Esotericism Manon Hedenborg-White GURDJIEFF Mysticism, Contemplation, and Exercises Joseph Azize

Gurdjieff Mysticism, Contemplation, and Exercises JOSEPH AZIZE

Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and certain other countries. Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America. © Oxford University Press 2020 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above. You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer. CIP data is on file at the Library of Congress ISBN 978–0–19–006407–5 eISBN 978–0–19–006409–9

To George and Helen Adie, this, my simple homage.

Contents

Foreword by Professor Carole Cusack Acknowledgments PART I: INTRODUCTORY Introduction 0.1 Aim and Thesis 0.2 Formal Definition of the Exercises 0.3 “Subjective” and “Objective” Exercises 0.4 “Meditation,” “Contemplation,” “Mysticism,” and “Western Esotericism” 0.5 Preliminary Questions 0.6 Format 1.

A Biographical Sketch of Gurdjieff 1.1 A Man with a Heritage but No Home 1.2 Gurdjieff to 1912 1.3 P. D. Ouspensky 1.4 Gurdjieff from 1912 to 1931 1.5 A. R. Orage and America 1.6 Gurdjieff from 1931 and de Salzmann 1.7 Summary

2.

An Overview of Gurdjieff’s Ideas 2.1 An Overview of Gurdjieff’s System 2.2 Reality and Creation 2.3 Matter and Materiality 2.4 Gurdjieff’s Anthropology: The Centers 2.5 “Doing” and “Sleep” 2.6 “Self-Remembering” 2.7 The Food Factory and Diagram 2.8 Conscience 2.9 Duty and Suffering 2.10Gurdjieff on Religion and Prayer

3.

Gurdjieff and the Mystical Tradition 3.1 Introduction 3.2 Gurdjieff on Mysticism 3.3 Gurdjieff and Neoplatonism 3.4 Gurdjieff, Mount Athos, the Philokalia, and The Way of a Pilgrim 3.5 Gurdjieff, Ouspensky, and the Jesus Prayer PART II: GURDJIEFF’S CONTEMPLATIVE EXERCISES

4.

The Russian Years 4.1 Introduction 4.2 The Ego Exercise 4.3 First Relaxation and Sensing Exercises 4.4 The Stop Exercise 4.5 Why Did Gurdjieff Initially Eschew Contemplative Exercises? 4.6 Gurdjieff’s Hesitations About Contemplative Exercises 4.7 Gurdjieff’s Reticence About Exercises

5.

Gurdjieff to the Early 1930s 5.1 Introduction 5.2 Orage’s Psychological Exercises 5.3 Orage’s “On Dying Daily” 5.4 The Herald of Coming Good 5.5 Transformed-Contemplation

6.

The First Series: Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson 6.1 Introduction 6.2 Aiëssirittoorassnian-Contemplation 6.3 The Genuine Being Duty Exercise

7.

The Soil Preparing Exercise from the Third Series 7.1 Introduction 7.2 The Talks

7.3 The Soil Preparing Exercise 7.4 Conjectured Sources 8.

The First Assisting Exercise from the Third Series 8.1 Introduction 8.2 The First Assisting Exercise 8.3 Subsequent Explanations

9.

The Second Assisting Exercise from the Third Series 9.1 Introduction 9.2 The Second Assisting Exercise 9.3 Commentary 9.4 Possible Antecedent in the Philokalia

10.

Gurdjieff in the Late 1930s 10.1Introduction 10.2An Exercise Concerning Aim and Energy 10.3“There Are Two Parts to Air” 10.4Commentary on the Two Parts to Air Exercise 10.5Hulme on the Exercises 10.6“Make Strong! Not Easy Thing” 10.7Commentary on “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing” 10.8Review: Gurdjieff’s Transformed-Contemplation in 1939

11.

Exercises from the Transcripts of 1941–1946 11.1Introduction 11.2Relaxation Exercises 11.3A Simple Sensing Exercise 11.4Exercises for the Body 11.5Exercises for Three Centers 11.6The Atmosphere Exercise 11.7“I Am” Exercises 11.8The Filling Up Exercise 11.9The Web Exercise 11.10 An Exercise of “I Am,” Breathing, and External Considering 11.11 An Exercise for Active Reasoning 11.12 Aim and Decision 11.13 Counting Exercises: Improving on Orage 11.14 Miscellaneous Exercises and Allusions PART III: EXERCISES FROM GURDJIEFF’S PUPILS

12.

The Reality of Being 12.1Introduction 12.2The Reality of Being 12.3An Exercise for Feeling 12.4The “I, Me” Exercise 12.5Continuity and Discontinuity

13.

The Four Ideals Exercise 13.1Introduction 13.2The Four Ideals Exercise 13.3Commentary on the Four Ideals Exercise 13.4Development of the Exercise

14.

The “Lord Have Mercy” Exercises 14.1Introduction 14.2“Lord Have Mercy” in The Reality of Being 14.3The “Lord Have Mercy” Exercises 14.4Commentary on the “Lord Have Mercy” Exercise 14.5Helen Adie’s Version 14.6“Lord Have Mercy” and Gurdjieff’s Sources

15.

The Color Spectrum Exercise 15.1Introduction 15.2Gurdjieff on Color in Life Is Real 15.3The Color Spectrum Exercise 15.4Commentary on the Color Spectrum Exercise

16.

The Clear Impressions Exercise 16.1Introduction 16.2The Clear Impressions Exercise 16.3Commentary on the Clear Impressions Exercise

17.

The Preparation 17.1Introduction 17.2A Preparation by Helen Adie 17.3Commentary on the Preparation by Helen Adie 17.4A Preparation by George Adie 17.5Commentary on the Preparation by George Adie 17.6The Purpose of the Preparation 17.7The Details of the Preparation: Time and Posture 17.8Willpower and Transformation

18.

Gurdjieff’s Last Exercises 18.1Introduction 18.2The Last Exercise Given to Claustres 18.3The Last Exercise Given to the Adies 18.4The Form and Purpose of Gurdjieff’s Contemplative Exercises 18.5Gurdjieff’s Sources for His Contemplative Exercises 18.6Gurdjieff and Transformed-Contemplation

Bibliography Index

Foreword

The life of George Ivanovitch Gurdjieff (c.1866–1949) until his emergence as a teacher in Moscow and St. Petersburg in 1912 is shrouded in obscurity, and his semi-fictionalized memoir Meetings with Remarkable Men, while intriguing and suggestive of possible real-life journeys and potentially identifiable sources for his teachings, remains inconclusive.1 From approximately 1914 his activities and associates were chronicled by a range of journalists and other observers, not necessarily unbiasedly, providing a rich public source of corroborative evidence up until his death in 1949. In his life Gurdjieff was not the subject of scholarly attention, and the lens of “religion” was not applied to his practical instruction or his written works. Indeed, one of his pupils, Solange Claustres (1920–2015), opined that “Gurdjieff’s teaching is not a search for religiosity, but it can be a deepening of reason. . . . There is no question of ‘for’ or ‘against’ religion in this work.”2 This is compatible with understanding Gurdjieff’s teaching as a technique for spiritual advancement that might be utilized in a range of contexts, and by people with varying or no religious beliefs or affiliations. In fact, the terms used to describe Gurdjieff during his life included “charlatan” and “magician” but in general did not connect him to religion, and more recent designators like “spiritual teacher” and “Western esotericist” had not yet come into vogue. It is therefore not surprising that the academic study of Gurdjieff has emerged only recently, and that it is situated in a range of disciplines including religious studies, psychology, and Western esotericism, reflecting both the protean quality of the Work or the Fourth Way, and the conflicting and contested ways that Gurdjieff himself has been portrayed. The earliest writings about Gurdjieff, as noted above, were by critical journalists, and these were supplemented by a body of early “devotional” literature authored by close pupils. These works included expositions of Gurdjieff’s ideas such as P. D. Ouspensky’s In Search of the Miraculous (1949) and C. S. Nott’s Teachings of Gurdjieff: A Pupil’s Journal (1961), and more personal, literary accounts of encounters with the master and of personal spiritual growth, like Margaret Anderson’s The Unknowable Gurdjieff (1962) and Kathryn Hulme’s Undiscovered Country (1966). With the exception of The Herald of Coming Good (1933), which was later recalled, Gurdjieff’s own Three Series were published posthumously. Many other sources exist: pupil notes from lectures public and private, both from Gurdjieff himself and from authoritative pupils in a range of teaching lineages; choreographies of Movements; scores of the music he wrote with his pupil, the Ukrainian composer Thomas de Hartmann (1885–1956); and written outlines of the “exercises” that are the subject of Joseph Azize’s astonishing research in Gurdjieff: Mysticism, Contemplation, and Exercises. In the twenty-first century the restricted and initiatory nature of the Work as a directly transmitted teaching from teacher to pupil via the Gurdjieff Foundation in London, New York, Paris, and Caracas, which was led by Jeanne de Salzmann (1889–1990), Gurdjieff’s nominated successor, is in decline. Alternative lineages led by important pupils including John Godolphin Bennett (1897–1974), Maurice Nicoll (1884–1953), and Annie-Lou Staveley (1906–1996), to name only a few, have proliferated and challenged the master narrative of the Foundation, and in the past three decades a steady stream of memoirs, collections of lectures, and other books about or influenced by Gurdjieff have been published. Interestingly, many of these are by Foundation or former Foundation members with access to significant private archives.3 Since the 1960s the dominant Christian religion of the Western world has been in retreat, and a deregulated religious and spiritual marketplace has provided a range of alternatives for seekers. Gurdjieff; Helena Petrovna Blavatsky (1831–1891), co-founder of Theosophy; and his near-contemporary Rudolf Steiner (1861–1925), the founder of Anthroposophy, have been cast as founding figures of the socalled New Age. Gurdjieff’s Meetings with Remarkable Men and Ouspensky’s In Search of the Miraculous became minor esoteric bestsellers, and in 1979 Madame de Salzmann and the celebrated theater and film director Peter Brook made a film of Meetings with Remarkable Men that has become a cult classic among film buffs and also served to introduce Gurdjieff to a new audience.4 This gradual but growing presence of the Fourth Way in the public sphere was accelerated by the development of the internet; in 2019 it is thirty years since the debut of Tim Berners-Lee’s World Wide Web interface, which effectively made cyberspace a medium for expression and communication among those who were not computer scientists. In the first three decades of the Web, sites related to Gurdjieff have proliferated. These include the curated, non-interactive Gurdjieff International Review site; William Patrick Patterson’s Gurdjieff Legacy Foundation site, which hosts his Online Fourth Way School; and the interactive Gurdjieff Internet Guide, founded by Reijo Oksanen in 2002. Other online services, such as YouTube, provide a range of Work content, including film footage of Movements and recordings of the Gurdjieff–de Hartmann music, which has gained a considerable following outside Fourth Way circles due to Keith Jarrett’s recording, G. I. Gurdjieff: Sacred Hymns, released in 1980.5 The beginnings of the academic study of Gurdjieff were visible in the 1990s, with publication of some insider-oriented volumes with mainstream scholarly publishers. For example, Jacob Needleman and George Baker’s Gurdjieff: Essays and Reflections on the Man and his Teaching (1998), put out by Continuum, was a translation of Bruno de Panafieu’s edited collection issued in French as Georges Ivanovitch Gurdjieff in 1994. Harry T. Hunt, who had completed a doctorate on Gurdjieff, published a

monograph, Lives in Spirit: Precursors and Dilemmas of a Secular Western Mysticism (2003) with the State University of New York Press in a series on Transpersonal Psychology. This had one chapter on Gurdjieff but was important because it brought Gurdjieff’s life and teachings into conversation with those of other figures who could usefully be compared to him. The methodology included phenomenology; object relations theory, which is associated with A. H. Almaas (b. A. Hameed Ali, 1944); and the sociology of Max Weber (1864–1920) and Ernst Troeltsch (1865–1923), whose phrase “the secret religion of the educated classes” Hunt applied to the “inner worldly mysticism” that he studies.6 Hunt’s genealogy of “secular Western mysticism” included figures who are relevant to the present study, such as Epictetus, Plotinus, and various Gnostics, and in the modern era a mix of philosophers (Friedrich Nietzsche and Martin Heidegger), psychoanalysts (Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud), Transcendentalists (Henry David Thoreau and Walt Whitman), magic practitioners (Aleister Crowley), and feminist movements with roots in Theosophy. This location of Gurdjieff’s teachings in the field of psychology continued in Mohammad H. Tamdgidi’s Gurdjieff and Hypnosis: A Hermeneutic Study (2009) with a foreword by J. Walter Driscoll, a Gurdjieff insider. Tamdgidi’s eccentric study was published by Palgrave Macmillan and is primarily a textual analysis of Gurdjieff’s writings using hypnosis as a lens through which to understand Gurdjieff’s assertion that humans are asleep and need to wake up in order to become real and to acquire the possibility of life after death through growing a soul.7 The development of the academic field of (Western) Esotericism is temporally linked to this emergence of scholarly studies of Gurdjieff. Antoine Faivre’s Access to Western Esotericism (1994) was published by the State University of New York Press and provided a framework that generated a (relatively) consistently demarcated field that unified disparate tendencies in the work of scholars like Edward A. Tiryakian, Marcello Truzzi, Mircea Eliade, Colin Campbell, and Patricia A. Hartman from the 1970s. Since 2000 publications that apply methodologies from both Religious Studies and Western Esotericism to Gurdjieff have gained ground. The emphasis has shifted from insider-oriented work, though much fine research of that type has been done, in particular by James Moore (1929–2017), to outsider-oriented work such as that pioneered by James Webb (1946–1980). A group of scholars working in Australia formed, largely because of the presence of Joseph Azize, a researcher in Ancient Near Eastern religion and culture, who assisted several younger scholars.8 Through his cooperation with my initiatives, utilizing our international links with academics both inside and outside the Work in Europe and America, collaborations (mostly in the form of themed journal special issues dedicated to aspects of Gurdjieff’s life and teachings) have resulted since.9 The most substantial outcome is Johanna Petsche’s monograph Gurdjieff and Music: The Gurdjieff/de Hartmann Piano Music and its Esoteric Significance (2015), which was published by Brill and has been well received. This historical sketch of writing, reading, researching, practicing, and publishing about or as part of the Gurdjieff tradition establishes the context for Gurdjieff: Mysticism, Contemplation, and Exercises, a book that makes a major contribution to scholarship in a number of areas. It has been commonplace to claim various “origins” or “sources” of Gurdjieff’s teachings over the years: In his lectures he often spoke of Christianity, Sufism, Buddhism, Hinduism, and various other religious and initiatory traditions, and sundry pupils became focused on seeking the mysterious Sarmoung Brotherhood that featured in Meetings with Remarkable Men, most notably Bennett, who was convinced that the Work originated in Sufism. This view has been promoted in two monographs, Anna T. Challenger’s Philosophy and Art in Gurdjieff’s “Beelzebub”: A Modern Sufi Odyssey (2002) and Michael S. Pittman’s Classical Spirituality in Contemporary America: The Confluence and Contribution of G. I. Gurdjieff and Sufism (2013).Yet on more than one occasion Gurdjieff described his teaching as “esoteric Christianity” and his own upbringing was as a member of the Orthodox Church. During his residence in and near Paris from 1922 to 1949 he often attended the St. Alexandre Nevsky Russian Orthodox Cathedral at 12 Rue Daru, and his funeral service was conducted there. Joseph Azize’s argument that the inner exercises that Gurdjieff termed “Transformed-contemplation” or “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation” were likely derived from Hesychasm, a contemplative practice in the Orthodox tradition, and specifically from the monastery of Mount Athos in Greece, goes farther than earlier, very general, attributions. Azize can better support his contention for three reasons: his extensive research into Eastern Christianity; his deep knowledge and long-term engagement with Gurdjieff’s spiritual exercises; and unique access to Gurdjieff pupils, archives, and texts that enable a more detailed and genuinely open analysis of the exercises, which to date many have believed should be kept secret. Azize thus can situate Gurdjieff in the tradition of the mystical use of the Prayer of the Heart and its great Orthodox Christian commentators and exegetes, most notably Nicephorus the Solitary, without making a blanket claim that Gurdjieff was a Christian teacher or limiting the Work to be interpreted via the lens of Christianity, as in real terms crucial elements of the faith were not present (for example, the salvific Jesus, sacraments, and the Bible) in Gurdjieff’s system.10 Situating Gurdjieff in the context of the history of mysticism creates space for discussion of the exercises that have been neglected to date for a range of reasons, chiefly the perception among Gurdjieff groups of all types and lineages that the exercises were secret, and the fact that they have almost entirely been discontinued among Foundation members.11 Gurdjieff: Mysticism, Contemplation, and Exercises makes valuable contributions to a number of areas in Gurdjieff studies. For example, Azize is able to shed light on the relationships that two distinguished literary pupils, Ouspensky and Alfred R. Orage, had with Gurdjieff and to clarify the reasons for Gurdjieff’s interest in highly capable writers. The first account of the Work was published by Ouspensky, and Orage was key to the 1931 edition of Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson, which has only recently been published by editor Robin Bloor.12 Azize also builds new knowledge about how and why Gurdjieff taught in certain ways in different periods of his life; rather than

accepting the “insider” idea that Gurdjieff’s teaching sprang fully formed from him, as did Athena from the head of Zeus, he demonstrates that the early teaching in Russia and the Caucasus was characterized by the exposition of an elaborate cosmology and the use of physical techniques like the Movements and the “Stop Exercise,” while the 1920s was characterized by intense work on music with Thomas de Hartmann and the writing of Beelzebub’s Tales, whereas in his last two years Gurdjieff recorded a range of harmonium improvisations. The rise to prominence of the contemplative exercises, Azize avers, was around 1930. Gurdjieff disliked the term “meditation,” and his concept of contemplation differed from traditional understandings in that he rejected the distinction between the active and the inactive (contemplative) life. The exercises were to be practiced in the context of everyday life, and Azize’s exposition is especially valuable as to the untrained eye they often appear to be so similar that disentangling the exact purpose of each exercise requires extensive knowledge of their specific functions. Azize considers a range of “Transformed-contemplation” exercises, identifying Gurdjieff’s Third Series, Life is Real Only Then, When “I Am” (1975), as the crucial text, along with the lecture transcripts from 1941 to 1946, for tracing exercises to Gurdjieff himself. In this category are included the Soil Preparing Exercise, the First and Second Assisting Exercises, the Atmosphere Exercise, and the Filling Up Exercise, among others. The book also treats exercises that are preserved in the writings of key pupils; de Salzmann’s The Reality of Being (2010) is especially interesting, as its publication twenty years after her death effectively meant the Foundation made public much previously hidden material, though it is clear that the editing of that book renders the dating and context of all of the information opaque. Those exercises that de Salzmann alludes to are quite distant from Gurdjieff’s own, given her alteration of the tradition through the introduction of zazen-style “sittings” and the abandonment of the effortful exercises (“self-remembering”) in favor of passivity (“being remembered”).13 Versions of exercises preserved by different pupils are compared; both de Salzmann and Helen Adie had versions of the “Lord Have Mercy” Exercise, and George Adie’s version of the Four Ideals Exercise is carefully compared to truncated renderings preserved in writings by Bennett (“Conscious Stealing”), Frank Sinclair, and others.14 The theological implications of Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation are spelled out in Gurdjieff: Mysticism, Contemplation, and Exercises. The Four Ideals Exercise suggests that Gurdjieff taught that the spiritual ideals (Christ, Buddha, Muhammad, and Lama) actually exist. Azize relates the use of the phrase “Lord have mercy” both in Movements and the eponymous exercise to Gurdjieff’s knowledge of the Athonite tradition, and his assertion that the Orthodox liturgy preserved knowledge of the Ray of Creation, which Ouspensky noted.15 The Law of Three, expressed in terms of the Affirming, Denying, and Reconciling forces, operates in the exercises, as for example in the nameless exercise taught by George Adie that Azize dubs the Clear Impressions Exercise, in which the exercitant first is active through looking, then passive through closing eyes, and then harmonized in a plan for the day. The chief quality that individuals and groups bring to spiritual work is attention, which must be active in thought, feeling, and sensation. In an exercise like the Preparation, these three are raised to consciousness, assisting in the development of willpower. The last exercise that Gurdjieff gave to George and Helen Adie was a version of the “I Am” Exercise, which Azize connects to the Jesus Prayer and Hesychasm. The basic intention of Gurdjieff’s inner Work seems to be that through practice the individual will develop a “real I” that is awake, conscious, and in possession of a soul. For this reason Gurdjieff was wary of meditation, trance, and also (though he was a skilled hypnotist) hypnotism, all of which occluded consciousness. Joseph Azize’s book represents an invaluable contribution to the scholarly study of Gurdjieff, in part through demonstrating that he changed his approach and developed his teachings over time. It is also a major advance in filling lacunae in our knowledge of Western esoteric teachings and currents in the first half of the twentieth century, and is a significant reconsideration of the links between such systems, for example Gurdjieff’s, or indeed Steiner’s, and Christianity. Carole M. Cusack Professor of Religious Studies University of Sydney March 22, 2019

1

Gurdjieff (1963) passim. Claustres (2005) 136. 3 These works include Roger Lipsey’s Gurdjieff Reconsidered: The Life, the Teachings, the Legacy (2019), Jeanne de Salzmann’s The Reality of Being: The Fourth Way of Gurdjieff (2010), and Frank Sinclair’s Without Benefit of Clergy (2005). Additionally, a large number of books have been written by Paul Beekman Taylor, whose half-sister Eve (Petey) was one of Gurdjieff’s children, including a biographical study titled G. I. Gurdjieff: A New Life (2008) and two moving studies of Gurdjieff’s relationship with two key pupils who were themselves celebrated literary men, Gurdjieff and Orage: Brothers in Elysium (2001) and Shadows of Heaven: Gurdjieff and Toomer (1998). 4 Cusack (2011) 93–97. 5 Petsche (2015) 10. 6 Hunt (2003) 65–71. 7 Gurdjieff (1950) 569. 8 The foremost Australian Gurdjieff scholar is Joseph Azize, who assisted David Pecotic and mentored Johanna Petsche during their Ph.D. candidatures at the University of Sydney, where they were enrolled in Studies in Religion and supervised by Carole M. Cusack, who developed an interest in the Work as a result of these associations. Azize and Pecotic began publishing on the Fourth Way in the first decade after 2000, with Petsche and Cusack contributing from the start of the second. 9 The first of these was a collection of four chapters in a book edited by Cusack and Alex Norman in 2012 by Azize, Pecotic, and 2

Petsche with the additional contribution by Anthony Blake, a pupil of Bennett and an innovative and productive Work teacher himself, based in the United Kingdom. Since then special issues of Journal for the Academic Study of Religion (2014), International Journal for the Study of New Religions (2015), Fieldwork in Religion (2016), and Religion and the Arts (2017) have appeared, with additional contributions by Steven J. Sutcliffe, Vrasidas Karalis, Michael Pittman, David Seamon, David G. Robertson, Ricki O’Rawe, John Willmett, and Catharine Christof. Two further issues are planned for Correspondences: Journal for the Study of Esotericism (2020) and Aries: Journal for the Study of Western Esotericism (2021), with a further scholar, Christian Giudice, joining the now-established group (totaling fourteen scholars from Europe, America, and Australia). 10 Azize has discussed aspects of the Work that point to affinities, if not identity, with Christianity, such as fasting. Azize (2014) 299–300. 11 Moore (1994) 11–16. 12 Gurdjieff (1931) passim. 13 Wellbeloved (2003) 154. 14 Azize (2013) 183. 15 Ouspensky (1949) 132.

Acknowledgments

The first acknowledgment must be to George and Helen Adie, to whom this book is respectfully dedicated. Then, I feel, Mrs. Annie-Lou Staveley, Dr. John Lester, and Madame Solange Claustres must be remembered, with gratitude, and, of course, respect. Toddy kindly spent time reading among her collection of the unpublished letters of Carol Robinson to Jane Heap, at short notice, and provided me with copies of the requested pages. Together with Karl and Gregory, she has been part of a modern group, at times approaching something in the direction of a brotherhood, and they know my respect and fidelity. Michael Benham kindly provided me with the benefits of his significant research; this is now the second time I have had occasion to thank him. Through their invitation to speak at a conference a few years ago, Marlene and Bonnie provided encouragement. The lads from Book Studio contributed indirectly through their publication of some most informative material from and about Gurdjieff and Orage; a book like this would not have been quite the same without their labors. Professors Carole Cusack and Garry Trompf have also aided me in my research, each in their quiet ways. Dr. Johanna Petsche kindly offered comments on extracts from the first draft. Bishop Tarabay allowed me time to work on this, once I told him that I had reached a crucial point; he made no fuss about it, he just encouraged me, and limited his requests, allowing me to opt out of meetings and committees, as I thought necessary. The final acknowledgment is to Professor Henrik Bogdan, the anonymous peer reviewers, and the peerless team at Oxford University Press. Maffee mitlkun (there is no one like you), as we say where the snow falls on the cedars.

PART I INTRODUCTORY

Introduction

0.1 Aim and Thesis The aim of this book is to study and make better known, in as clear and precise a format as possible, Gurdjieff’s internal exercises. He coined for them the phrases “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation” and “Transformed-contemplation,” although we could say “contemplation-like exercises.”1 It also offers a thesis about Gurdjieff’s sources for these exercises and his philosophy and purpose in fashioning them. That study grounds a reevaluation of Gurdjieff and his system and revisits aspects of his relationship with P. D. Ouspensky and A. R. Orage. This research is undertaken in the hope that it will prove to be of interest not only to students of Gurdjieff’s system, but also to students of meditation and contemplation, and to scholars of modern culture, and of Western Esotericism in particular. Since it is suggested that Gurdjieff’s internal exercises were probably adapted from the hesychast Christian Orthodox traditions of Mount Athos, and especially from the techniques of the Prayer of the Heart (most notably as found in the writings of Nicephorus the Solitary), it may also be of interest to scholars of Hesychasm and the Christian contemplative traditions, who may begin to see Gurdjieff from a new perspective, and perhaps benefit from some of his ideas. Gurdjieff’s system is in many respects compatible with Christianity; indeed, Gurdjieff said that his system could be taken as “esoteric Christianity.”2 Notwithstanding this, Gurdjieff also insisted on the value of non-Christian traditions, stating that Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and what he called “Lamaism” (thereby distinguishing it from Buddhism) had been founded by “genuine Sacred Individuals sent . . . from Above.”3 Had he been asked how his system related to these, he might have described it as “esoteric Islam,” “esoteric Buddhism,” or even “esoteric Lamaism.” Apparently cutting across this division, he made a short enigmatic comment to Ouspensky in 1915 that “schools” had been divided up “long ago” so that there were only schools of “philosophy” in India, of “theory” in Egypt, and of “practice” in Mesopotamia and Turkestan (for Ouspensky, see Section 1.3).4 Later on, Gurdjieff taught that there were four chief lines of “understanding”: the Hebraic, Egyptian, Persian, and Hindu. Of these, he stated parts of Hebraic, Egyptian, and Persian theory were then known, together with Hindu philosophy. From these “fundamental lines,” two “mixed” lines, bearing “grains” of truth insufficient to give “practical realization,” were known: “theosophy and so-called Western occultism.”5 Further, Gurdjieff had warned that “professional occultism,” by which he meant “spiritualists, healers and clairvoyants,” were “professional charlatans” and their activities were absolutely inimical to effective internal development.6 Gurdjieff therefore claimed to be speaking from a perspective that allowed him to judge the value of all religions, philosophies, and spiritual paths. Gurdjieff notably availed himself of dervish culture, especially in his Sacred Dances and Movements, and allowed that there was genuine knowledge in alchemy, astrology, the Tarot, and ancient folk traditions, if they were understood correctly.7 At the same time, Gurdjieff not infrequently pointed to what he said were gaps in these teachings, but added that his system supplemented and corrected them; for instance, while stating that alchemists, fakirs, and monks had some understanding of the necessary path of spiritual development, he averred that they left out or did not know of “self-remembering,” the vital preparatory step.8 Solange Claustres (1920–2015), his pupil from 1941 until his death in 1949, stated: “Gurdjieff’s teaching is not a search for religiosity, but it can be a deepening of reason. . . . There is no question of ‘for’ or ‘against’ religion in this work.”9 On this view, if one understands Gurdjieff’s ideas, one can better discern what is valuable in any religion or tradition, and what is not. This accords with Gurdjieff’s idea of the Four Ways (see Section 2.1), his individual survey and evaluation of the traditions. Gurdjieff’s comments about religion are often akin to the approach of Theosophy, where certain religions and spiritual currents, such as Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, and Neoplatonism, are accepted as being exoteric husks around an esoteric seed, although the exoteric circle may be oblivious even of the existence of the esoteric core.10 Although I shall be contending that Gurdjieff’s contemplative methods were adapted from Orthodox traditions, and became more overtly religious as he grew older, his system cannot be called a Christian system, if only because the Messiah himself, the sacraments, and the scriptures play no significant role in Gurdjieff’s system. Despite having adapted monastic Christian techniques, dervish culture, and other resources, Gurdjieff’s ideas and practical methods were carefully and consistently integrated and interrelated. Perhaps the best available analogy is that of language: Gurdjieff’s relationship to older religions and spiritual traditions can be likened to the relationship between someone who fashions a new, internally consistent language, on the model of already existing languages. The innovator’s new tongue makes use of found languages, and produces its own more or less distinctive vocabulary, grammar, and syntax. The former languages are not rendered obsolete, but the practitioner of the new may believe that it is superior. Gurdjieff himself pointed the way to some such understanding when he spoke of his “Fourth Way” as combining simultaneously the

practical elements found in the three other ways, those of the Fakir, the Monk, and the Yogi.11 Jane Heap (1887–1964), one of the few pupils whom Gurdjieff had personally authorized to teach his system, was speaking of both his ideas and his methods when she said: “Gurdjieff left us a great inviolable body of ideas,”12 thus painting Gurdjieff’s teaching as an organic and distinctive identity. My aim, then, is to expound the nature and basis of Gurdjieff’s contemplative methods, and to explore his sources, to the degree that is possible. My view is that Gurdjieff has, to a significant extent, been imperfectly understood by scholars. For reasons given below, I suggest that Gurdjieff can properly be considered to be a “mystic” who tried to fashion a workable system without contemplative methods, but later found them necessary supplements to his practical methods. It is part of my thesis that Gurdjieff’s method as a whole can be taken as naturally leading to the mystical dimension of spirituality. A survey of contemporary practitioners of Gurdjieff’s system also leads to the same conclusion: For example, Parabola, a magazine founded by Dorothea Dooling (a personal pupil of Gurdjieff and Jeanne de Salzmann), and connected by some personnel if nothing else to the New York Gurdjieff Foundation, regularly features articles and interviews from and with practitioners of the major religious traditions, but rarely from Theosophical, occult, or magical circles.13 Some of the terms used in stating this thesis require explanation. With Gurdjieff, the words “mystic,” “God,” and “serious,” for example, have slightly but not entirely different meanings from those they enjoy elsewhere. One simple reason is that Gurdjieff integrated his vocabulary into his philosophy, and so words take on corresponding nuances. Further, Gurdjieff devoted much attention to his beloved “philological question.”14 So substantial is Gurdjieff’s approach to language that there have been two monographs on that subject alone.15 The word “seriousness” may serve as an example of how Gurdjieff integrated his interest in words into his system: [S]eriousness is one of the concepts which can never and under no circumstances be taken conditionally. Only one thing is serious for all people at all times. . . . If a man could understand all the horror of the lives of ordinary people who are turning around in a circle of insignificant interests and insignificant aims . . . he would understand that there can be only one thing that is serious for him—to escape from the general law, to be free. . . . People who are not serious . . . are people who live by fantasies, chiefly by the fantasy that they are able to do something.16

It was probably because Gurdjieff wanted to be understood by those who were “serious” in his sense of the word, and to discourage those who were not, that he adopted the strategy of mixing clarity and confusion. I suggest that Gurdjieff attempted to be sufficiently clear for those who were serious to sense that there was something of value in his teaching, but not so clear that this could be appreciated without some personal effort to penetrate to this meaning. Those who were merely dilettantes would move on to the next fad, and leave him in peace.

0.2 Formal Definition of the Exercises The Macquarie Dictionary (2017) defines the noun “exercise” as meaning, inter alia: 1. bodily or mental exertion, especially for the sale of training or improvement. 2. something done or performed as a means of practice or training, to improve a specific skill or to acquire competence in a particular field . . . 3. a putting into action, use, operation or effect . . . 9. a religious observance or act of worship.17

The Shorter Oxford Dictionary, from 1944 and hence published during Gurdjieff’s lifetime, offers an interesting definition as its first: 1. The action of exercising; the condition of being in active operation.18

That dictionary then goes on to provide definitions such as that found in the Macquarie. All of these definitions are useful, but that of working to be “in active operation” will appear particularly pertinent to Gurdjieff’s exercises. The word’s etymology is interesting: It is not controversial that Skeat derives the word from the Latin exercitium, and that word itself from exercitus, the past participle of exercere, “to drive out of an enclosure, drive on, keep at work.”19 “To keep at work” would be an appropriate description of “exercise” in Gurdjieff’s sense. In the course of his career, Gurdjieff taught many exercises of different kinds, some of which I would call “tasks,” others “disciplines,” and yet others “Transformed-contemplation.” “Exercise” is my umbrella term for Transformed-contemplation, tasks, and disciplines. When we speak of “Transformedcontemplation,” we mean those exercises that are: Internal practices designed to shift the exercitant out of a habitual state, using attention and intention to coordinate and develop their three centers, i.e. their faculties of mind, feeling and sensory awareness (including awareness of the breath), and sometimes purporting to involve other faculties; in order to assimilate, transform and coat very fine substances in the exercitant’s body (what Gurdjieff calls “the sacred cosmic substances required for the coating of the highest-being-body, which sacred being-part of theirs . . . they call soul”).20

The aim is developed over two stages, first of all to change the exercitant’s state, and then to crystallize the soul (this latter aspect is more often tacitly understood than articulated). I would distinguish “tasks” as being occupations for the mind or body that were given on a particular

occasion and “disciplines” as occupations for the mind or body that were given to be used over a period of time. Neither of these comprise Transformed-contemplation, in my terms, because neither of them use all three faculties or “centers,” or are directed to the metabolism of higher substances. Gurdjieff did not say that “Transformed-contemplation” must exclusively be conducted in the secluded conditions that are often associated with contemplative practices (e.g., seated, with eyes closed, away from distractions, and so on). More important for Gurdjieff was that the internal being of the exercitant approximate to what he called a “special state.”21 The hesychast tradition, too, demands a serious internal disposition, not that the Jesus Prayer be recited sitting in a cell. However, from 1930, he more frequently used secluded conditions as an aid to finding the special state (or “kind of state”). That is, Gurdjieff came to believe that contemplation in secluded conditions was, as a practical matter, necessary. Further, I shall contend that in speaking of “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation” in Beelzebub, he specifically had in mind exercises of the type of the Assisting Exercises from the Third Series, his breathing exercises, and the Four Ideals Exercise (see Chapter 13). If Gurdjieff’s “Fourth Way” is a way “in life,” it understands “life” as embracing both contemplation in secluded conditions and activity in the social domain. Here, the focus will be on just those exercises that do conform more closely to what is known of contemplation from global religious and spiritual traditions. It could be argued that, especially for Gurdjieff, the distinction between life in secluded conditions and life in the social domain is artificial, and so his entire body of ideas and methods comprise Transformed-contemplation. But on this approach, the value of what Gurdjieff himself wrote about Transformed-contemplation would be lost in generality. There is a question of emphasis: In secluded conditions, one can focus more closely on the receipt of impressions both from within and from without. Gurdjieff sometimes linked his exercises to external activities; for instance, he fashioned some internal exercises to be included with some of his Movements. I shall not consider those exercises here, precisely because the focus there is on the Movement as a whole, and not only the internal exercises. Three noteworthy aspects of Gurdjieff’s contemplation-like exercises are how they (1) are so closely related to his instructions for existence in daily life, (2) form variations on a theme, and (3) usually appear to be improvised, but sometimes are apparently carefully crafted. Very often, the same advice given concerning a contemplation-like exercise would also be offered to persons asking about their state when they met family and friends. For Gurdjieff, as with the Prayer of the Heart, no single sphere of life was to be isolated from another. So one must compare and contrast Transformed-contemplation (usually practiced alone, seated, and quiet), and Gurdjieff’s instructions for external life (which demands manifestation in life in the social domain), to understand them both. In his Gurdjieff groups, exercises that might be done alone while at home were practiced by all or some of the group, together. This made an intermediate condition between special secluded conditions and the social domain. When we speak of “contemplation” here, its true complement is not the active life, but rather external manifestation. The distinction between the “active” and the “contemplative” lives (the lives of praxis and theōria, respectively) is known from Christianity, although even there the distinction was variously drawn.22 Nicephorus the Solitary uses the distinction between the active and the contemplative life in his short book On Sobriety, a text that is critical for understanding the background to Gurdjieff’s techniques (see Chapter 3).23 However, Gurdjieff eschewed these phrases and the distinction. From his perspective, the contemplative work is the most active work of all, even if it has been traditional to contrast the contemplative and active lives. That Gurdjieff would find a distinction between “contemplative” and “active” to be unsatisfactory may perhaps explain, at least in part, why he called his techniques first “Transformed-contemplation,” and finally “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation,” rather than “contemplation” simpliciter. Further, it is not ideal to refer to “ordinary” or “daily” life as if Transformedcontemplation was part neither of an “ordinary” (or ordered) life, nor of “daily” life. In Gurdjieff’s system in its latest form, the secluded exercise known as the Preparation was to be practiced each morning, and linked by a carefully thought-out plan to the activities of the day. These exercises thus suffused one’s daily life. This is why I prefer to contrast “life in the social domain” with a “special state,” rather than to contrast “in life” with “away from life,” albeit at the risk of a certain clumsiness.

0.3 “Subjective” and “Objective” Exercises Gurdjieff distinguished between “objective” and “subjective” exercises. The brief jottings George Adie (1901–1989; see Section 13.1) made of his time in Paris with Gurdjieff refer to this distinction, marking the Four Ideals Exercise as subjective, and noting that at the same time he had been given the “I Am” to say hourly, leading to the inference that that exercise was an objective one. Elaborating on this distinction, Adie said, in a meeting on June 11, 1980: As far as exercises are concerned, there are objective exercises and subjective exercises. The objective exercises are ones that affect everybody in the same way, or could affect everybody in the same way, and everybody may use them. The subjective exercises, as you can see, will be specially suited to the person according to their requirements at the time, and how much they have understood—the level, as it were, of their understanding. And that will be measured from time to time.24

Therefore, “subjective” exercises were for specific individuals alone. It would require judgment to decide when to give the objective exercises, and flair to devise the subjective exercises. In the transcripts of Gurdjieff’s meetings in the 1940s, the subjective ones seem to have been improvised as the demand presented itself. As we shall see, Gurdjieff himself refers to some exercises as being for specific

individuals only, while others are for the entire group.

0.4 “Meditation,” “Contemplation,” “Mysticism,” and “Western Esotericism” Perhaps these words cannot adequately be defined, at least not with cross-cultural validity. However, they can be described well enough for our purposes. First, let us take the words “contemplation” and “meditation.” In an earlier study, considering the historical and cultural factors, as well as the etymological, I concluded that the contemporary word “contemplation” often bears the nuance of a way of life that is more withdrawn than the “active” life.25 In that study, I concluded that the word “meditation” probably developed “from the notion of measuring out one’s attention, that is, carefully controlling it . . . [or else from] the care needed when remaining “in the middle,” as it were, between various possibilities.”26 Perspectives on meditation and contemplation vary to an almost surprising degree depending on the scholar’s background. For example, in The Cambridge Companion to Christian Mysticism, a chapter on “Meditation” written by Thomas Bestul, an academic in English literature, devotes more attention to “meditation as a written form” than to it as a viva voce practice. While Bestul sees that as only one side of meditation, the other being “meditation as a practice of spiritual exercise,” even his understanding of the practice is intimately related to literary engagement.27 Further, despite the presence of a chapter by Andrew Louth, Hollywood concedes in her introduction that “There is little attention to the Christian East after the sixth century”28 and that a separate volume is needed for that. But that, of course, only shows that the book should have been called The Cambridge Companion to Western Christian Mysticism. These two points, the width of the concept of “meditation” and the existence of significant mystical traditions in both Eastern and Western Christianity, again indicate the difficulties awaiting anyone who attempts to produce a global survey of meditation. The fact is that Gurdjieff deliberately used the word “contemplation” when coining the phrase “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation” for the English and French editions of Beelzebub’s Tales. For the German edition, however, he chose the German word “Betrachtung.” “Betrachtung” has not only the meaning of “contemplation” but also that of “examination.” The verbal root “betrachten” means “to look at, watch, observe” and so on. As I observed in an earlier study: “Had Gurdjieff wished to use a term suggestive of trances or altered states of consciousness, he could have. However, in all three languages, especially perhaps in German, the words suggest concentrated attention and heightened alertness.”29 Why, then, did he eschew using the word “meditation”? It seems that Gurdjieff usually avoided that word other than to disparage it; hence, on January 25, 1936, he said to Solita Solano of attempting the exercises he was then teaching: “But not mind meditating like monk or philosopher.”30 Gurdjieff did not use the term “meditation,” although it otherwise seems quite suitable for his exercises, because of its associations, first with Christian prayer and lectio divina;31 second with the Eastern practices that he believed led only to “sleep on a higher level” (see Section 4.6); and third, with the monks and philosophers of whose example he warned Solita Solano. I adopt Katz’s definition “mysticism” as “the quest for direct experience of God, Being, or Ultimate Reality, however these are understood, that is, theistically or non-theistically.” This is similar to many other attempted definitions32 and includes experiences such as those within Buddhism and diverse analogous systems. Perhaps it will appear that mysticism can only be described rather than defined, but Katz’s definition is sufficient for my present purposes. There have been many universal studies of mysticism, and the great spate of scholarship in the field has led to something of a shift in the understanding of that subject. Katz contends that in the history of the study of mysticism, there have been two broad models: the “essentialist” and the “contextualist.”33 The essentialist sees mystical experience as a relatively homogenous experience, essentially the same across boundaries of culture, religion, language, age, gender, social status, and so on. This sort of view was unchallenged for quite some time. A typical representative was Margaret Smith, who wrote that “mysticism” was to be found all over the world “in an almost identical form,” so that it could be called “universal, a tendency of the human soul which is eternal.”34 Even a relatively modern study using methods of biofeedback took the same attitude. Cade and Coxhead wrote: The actual basis of the biofeedback principle is very simple: if one is enabled physically to observe in one’s self some biological happening of which one is not normally aware, for example, the presence of what is called the alpha rhythm in one’s brain waves, then one can be trained to control that happening. In cases of alpha rhythm, the subject may be trained to produce at will more of the appropriate state of calm, detached awareness with which it is associated. So one aspect of biofeedback is the training of the individual to control his own states of awareness, just as one aspect of the Eastern philosophies of yoga, Sufism or Zen is the training of the individual to control his own internal awareness at will, but without outer technical corroboration. In other words, it might reasonably be said that biofeedback is an instrumental mystic self-control.35

That is, Cade and Coxhead have an essentialist take on “Eastern philosophies,” among which they number Sufism. The contextualist, however, sees mysticism as a range of experiences, influenced and even determined by culture, and other social influences. Katz, the chief proponent of this theory, states:

[I]n order to understand mysticism it is not just a question of studying the reports of the mystic after the experiential event but of acknowledging that the experience itself, as well as the form in which it is reported, is shaped by concepts which the mystic brings to, and which shape his or her experience. . . . what is being argued is that, for example, the Hindu mystic does not have an experience of x that he or she then describes in the familiar language and symbols of Hinduism but, rather, has a Hindu experience.36

The distinction between the two schools of thought may be false, or at least overly rigid: Few essentialists would ever deny that subjective factors had no effect on mystics’ experiences, while even a contextualist might find something in common between at least some of those experiences, albeit across cultural barriers, and even find an objective basis for that commonality. Thus, for example, Ewert Cousins, writing in one of Katz’s volumes, states that “the symbolic method of interpreting scripture is not arbitrary but is based on the very structure of the psyche.”37 Influential as Katz’s theory has been, it has not always been accepted, and short as this overview is, I suggest that it goes too far. D’Aquili and Newberg, in their neurobiological study of mysticism, refer to Katz’s thesis, and state: The bottom line in understanding the phenomenology of subjective religious experience is to understand that every religious experience involves a sense of the unity of reality at least somewhat greater than the baseline perception of unity in day-to-day life.38

It is significant that researchers in the biological and medical sciences consider that there are, objectively, different states of consciousness, which can be changed by the use of the exercitant’s attention alone. Cade and Coxhead, who knew of Ouspensky’s advice to be aware of oneself while gazing at a watch-face, concluded that if one “conscientiously: tried to be aware of one’s “sensory input,” as Ouspensky had suggested, then: you will experience what amounts to a new altered state of consciousness—the state of generalized hyperesthesia, or mind expansion without drugs—and however successful or unsuccessful you were in focusing all the stimuli, provided that you made a really honest effort, you will realize why Ouspensky said, “Man is asleep; for compared to what we are capable of, our normal waking state is more like sleep-walking.”39

An approach based on organic phenomena occurring in the body of the practitioner should, in theory, make it possible to study all systems, as d’Aquili and Newberg assert.40 They define a “state” of “Absolute Unitary Being,” or “AUB,” by reference to either “blissful positive effect . . . usually interpreted as the unio mystica, or the experience of God,” or a “neutral or tranquil effect” that the exercitant understands impersonally “as the void or Nirvana of Buddhism, or as the Absolute of various philosophic systems.”41 The great danger of their model, the essentialist, is that it may fashion the very object it purports to study, and prove its assumptions by removing from consideration any phenomena that do not correspond to those assumptions. Physical and biological characteristics can be defined, but there may be more than one cause for a particular characteristic. Psychological states are harder to pin down, especially across linguistic and cultural boundaries. Biology apart, how does the researcher decide who is to be considered a mystic, and who is not? As even d’Aquili and Newberg state, the interpretations of the states experienced can be quite different. But if the interpretation is bracketed, as it were, then how do we know which states are being compared? Many people who claimed to have had apparitions and visions of divine figures, but yet are not considered to be mystics. It seems that unless the visionary has not articulated a certain spirituality or theology, then that visionary rarely elicits the interest of students of mysticism. Lamm refers to “religious elitism,” and notes that there are good reasons to think that far more people have had mystical experiences than we know of.42 The contextualist model is not without its dangers, too: If “mysticism” is so very various, on what basis do we use the one word for it? At a deeper level, perhaps, it is not to the point that “mystical” experiences are conditioned by the mystic’s culture. That may be so, and yet the essentialist model still be accurate, for the mystics may be having similar experiences that are influenced and interpreted by reference to their diverse cultures, yet possess an objective and common basis. The same is true of all perception: It is always influenced and interpreted by one’s culture. It does not mean that there is nothing “universal,” let alone objective and common, in the perceptions. This is Pike’s critique of Katz’s critique of Stace, and it is a view that, as we shall see, Gurdjieff would most certainly have shared.43 Besides, from a purely logical point of view, does it matter if a Hindu mystic has a “Hindu experience” and a Christian mystic a “Christian experience” and so on, if Hinduism and Christianity themselves are diverse exoteric expressions of identical esoteric reality? Here, we only need to be aware of this debate, as we shall return to it and Gurdjieff’s view, a view that is far more consistent with the essentialist, in Section 3.2. “Western Esotericism,” one of the streams in which I place Gurdjieff, has been “somewhat crudely” defined by Bogdan as: a Western form of spirituality that stresses the importance of the individual effort to gain spiritual knowledge, or gnosis, whereby man is confronted with the divine aspect of existence. Furthermore, there is usually a strong holistic trait in esotericism where the godhead is considered manifest in the natural world—a world interconnected by so-called correspondences. Man is seen as a microcosm of the macrocosm, the divine universe. Through increased knowledge of the individual self, it is often regarded as possible to achieve corresponding knowledge about nature, and thereby about God.44

This definition, streamlining the views of scholars such as Faivre,45 is more serviceable than, for instance,

van Egmond’s definition of esoteric schools as enabling transformation and guidance from one’s “soul,” “higher self,” or “holy guardian angel,”46 which is not, in my view, incorrect so much as it is limited. We shall see that Gurdjieff’s teaching accords well with Bogdan’s description. It sometimes seems that each scholar in the field has his or her own definitions. David Katz, for example, is loath to draw distinctions between terms such as “occult” and “esotericism”47 and sees Gurdjieff as an occultist whose “movement successfully made the transition to what would become New Age religion.”48 Hanegraaff, on the other hand, sees occultism as a subset of esotericism and mentions Gurdjieff only tangentially in his study of the New Age, esotericism, and the occult in Western culture.49 Another approach is taken by von Stuckrad, who prefers to speak of “the esoteric” rather than of “esotericism,” seeing “the esoteric” as an “element of discourse,” avoiding the term “occult,” and not mentioning Gurdjieff at all in his short book, but granting Blavatsky an eminent position.50 Magee simply sees Gurdjieff as “arguably the most influential esoteric teacher of the twentieth century.”51 To my mind, the hardest term to pin down in the definition may well be “Western,” but I think that what is important here is that, within this historically conditioned definition, the word “Western” serves the purpose of highlighting the disillusionment with both the (Western) Enlightenment program and the dominant (Western) Christian churches, which seems to me to be a regular feature of the confluence of currents called “Western Esotericism.”52 So, questions of definition and categorization are difficult and complex: certainly too complex to fully deal with here. Also, the very point of this monograph is to present an aspect of Gurdjieff that has been little known and often unacknowledged. The result of this study may well be that it alters scholars’ view of Gurdjieff, and the extent to which he resembles a magician more than a mystic.

0.5 Preliminary Questions Some preliminary questions arise. The first question, which often puzzles even those in the Gurdjieff groups who approach these exercises, is this: Which exercises came from Gurdjieff himself? In this volume, I state reasons for considering the various exercises to be authentically from Gurdjieff, or, in a very few cases, either uncertain or clearly not authentic. In Section 13.1, I state why the exercises George Adie taught can be attributed to Gurdjieff with some degree of confidence. Related to this question of source is that of the variety of forms in which the exercises are found today in the Gurdjieff groups. One might wonder why Gurdjieff would fashion various exercises that were so similar, but the inescapable conclusion is that this was intentional on Gurdjieff’s part. The exercises often seem to fall into variations on a theme, showing the extent to which they were an artistic form of teaching. He told Annie-Lou Staveley (1906–1996) that when he taught them any exercise, he gave them a skeleton, and it was for them to place flesh on it.53 That is, Gurdjieff provided a paradigm that then had to be applied or renewed, as it were, each time the exercises were attempted. Solange Claustres explained her understanding of the principle this way: “I never took refuge in an exercise; I understood the principle of it without knowing it consciously. It happened naturally in me, through a life instinct.”54 The apparent improvisation of exercises, so apparent in Chapter 11 where we see them given in the course of group meetings in Paris between 1941 and 1946, relates to this. The “fleshing out” would take place extempore, in the presence of an immediate demand. It may even be that they were ideally fleshed out in such circumstances. The challenge when improvising was only augmented by Gurdjieff’s instruction that the exercises were always to be given and to be worked at precisely, never “approximately.” As Gurdjieff said in an undated transcript: “One must work precisely on something precise. Work should not be a desire, but a need, a need.”55 There is no contradiction between the requirement to be exact in practicing exercises from an internalized skeleton rather than from a text. One might have to use artistic freedom in deciding what was to be taught or done, but it was a freedom to search for the exact demand. It might even be better to avoid speaking of this freedom as “artistic,” and to coin the less colorful phrase “athletic freedom,” for athletes must continually and soberly adapt their regimen by reference to principles and to exigencies. Not the least interesting controversy, although to date it has tended to be held only within the Gurdjieff tradition, is why Gurdjieff taught an elaborate system of ideas, particularly well known from Ouspensky’s In Search of the Miraculous, but in later years seems to have abandoned it. One solution is to say that Gurdjieff worked with Ouspensky on ideas simply because of Ouspensky’s intellectual abilities, just as he worked with the talented composer Thomas de Hartmann on music. However, it is not so simple. Gurdjieff had commenced teaching the ideas before Ouspensky joined him. Also, Ouspensky was not the only highly intelligent person to whom the ideas were taught, and what we see in Gurdjieff’s later years was, in the eyes of many, not merely a downplaying but practically a negligence of the system he had once taught.56 My conjecture is that Gurdjieff’s initial intention was not to use these inner exercises, certainly not in secluded conditions. That is, he wanted people to learn his ideas, and to strive to observe and remember themselves exclusively in the social domain of life, without using the affirmations and techniques concerning breathing, representation, and the movement of energies he eventually taught. If that was his original perspective, it changed. Perhaps bringing people to the higher states of self-awareness he pointed to was not so easy using only the ideas and corresponding instructions: In other words, it was just too hard to awaken people in the social domain. It was found necessary to first arouse oneself in a special state on arising and then, when one had a taste of it, to bring that experience to the day. He also feared, I believe, using techniques of self-

suggestion, which he regarded as akin to hypnotism and hence dangerous, a risk he explicitly referred to and acknowledged himself to be taking (see Section 8.1). These considerations could explain Gurdjieff’s experimenting with different methods. He introduced the Sacred Dances and Movements, making them a major feature of his system from no earlier than 1917.57 He prepared a very large body of music with de Hartmann, which he worked on intensely only between the years of 1925 and 1927,58 and recorded many of his improvisations on the harmonium during the years 1948 and 1949.59 But from about 1930, he gradually introduced and gave more and more importance to Transformed-contemplation. He found detailed use of the ideas less helpful than he had anticipated. It may also be that he was disappointed Ouspensky had not produced the promised introduction to them (see Section 1.3). Studying how Gurdjieff continues and develops the traditions he found, we approach the question of the “lineage,” as it were, of his system. As indicated above, it seems to me that those in the Gurdjieff groups tend to see Gurdjieff as following in the tradition of Christian mystics such as Meister Eckhart, of certain Sufis (although there is quite some diversity, even within Islam, in “Sufism”), and of Buddhist and Hindu sages. Adie specified, as specially relevant: “the Hindu, the Zen, Sufi and Christian teachings.”60 Kenneth Walker, a personal pupil of Gurdjieff, compared him to both Ammonius Saccas and Plotinus, the master and the pupil.61 Academics, however, often place Gurdjieff on a horizon with Blavatsky and Steiner, and even see him as a bricoleur.62 In my view, if we exclude from consideration the magical tradition, let alone the “magick” of Crowley and his ilk, each perspective has some elements of the truth. I return to this in Chapter 18, after we have examined the nature of Gurdjieff’s internal exercises, for until we accurately know what Gurdjieff taught, we cannot accurately place him. One subsidiary result of the writing of this book will be the preservation of some of the exercises dealt with here, especially the Four Ideals, the Clear Impressions, and the Color Spectrum Exercises. Even the Preparation, the quondam basis of Gurdjieff’s practical system, is known in very different ways throughout the Gurdjieff world. While the idea of an oral esoteric tradition is appealing to some, the reality is that the exercises of Gurdjieff that have not been forgotten are those that have been published. The unpublished exercises have effectively disappeared, even from the subculture of the Gurdjieff groups. This book, therefore, preserves for the Gurdjieff tradition, too, some exercises that would be otherwise lost. By considering the basis of Gurdjieff’s exercises, it may facilitate a reappraisal of their value. Gurdjieff was not speaking of pushups when he said: “Exercises, exercises, thousands and thousands of times. Only this will bring results.”63 I deal only with those Gurdjieff exercises that have been published, together with the exercises taught by George and Helen Adie. Some other exercises are attributed to him, but of those known to me, the evidence is tenuous, and not vouched for by anyone who personally studied with Gurdjieff.

0.6 Format The volume falls into three parts. The shortest is the first, which introduces Gurdjieff and the questions to be considered. Part II is devoted to Gurdjieff’s exercises and their necessary context. In Part III, I deal with the exercises taught by George and Helen Adie, and a conclusion. This book is, then, a partly diachronic and partly thematic study. Because my contention is that there was a development within Gurdjieff’s approach to the use of contemplative exercises, it must to that extent proceed in chronological order. However, two factors have frustrated my initial desire to proceed purely chronologically: the uncertainty concerning the true dates of the writing of the all-important lectures in Life Is Real, and the desirability of not unduly fracturing the discussion of questions such as why Gurdjieff eschewed the terms “meditation” and “contemplation” simpliciter. I could have simply dealt with these last questions piecemeal, referring back at each stage to the earlier discussion and adding more to it, but this proved to be unsatisfactory. I have opted, therefore, for a four-part solution: 1. In Part I, I set out the background in Chapters 1, 2, and 3, including a discussion of Gurdjieff’s desire to have his teaching witnessed in, rather than reduced to, writing; and the subsequent need for Ouspensky and Orage, who were high-caliber authors, and well suited for the purpose. 2. In Part II, I consider the written material concerning In Search of the Miraculous about Gurdjieff’s teaching when he was in Russia, then the relevant passages in Herald of Coming Good, Beelzebub, the exercises in Life Is Real, and some sundry exercises he gave in the 1930s. 3. I deal with all other exercises from the Gurdjieff tradition in Part III. The main sources here are Jeanne de Salzmann and George Adie. 4. Cutting across that neat scheme, I deal with thematic questions when they first arise, even if it is necessary to refer to texts that were written later on, or mentioned earlier.

When referring to Gurdjieff’s books, I would prefer to speak of the First, Second, and Third Series for those three volumes he prepared for publication, although none were published in his lifetime. However, they were published under the rather longer and clumsier, albeit more colorful, titles Beelzebub’s Tales to His Grandson, Meetings with Remarkable Men, and Life Is Real Only Then, When “I Am.”

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63.

Gurdjieff spoke of “Transformed-contemplation” in Gurdjieff (1933) 32. Ouspensky (1949) 102. Gurdjieff (1950) 699. Orage wrote: “Tibetanism is not a form of Buddhism, but the religion of St Lama who lived. . . . It is little known to us.” Orage (2013) 285. Ouspensky (1949) 15. Ouspensky (1949) 285–286. Ouspensky (1949) 243–244. Ouspensky (1949) 15, 20, 35, 193, 283, and 366–367. Ouspensky (1949) 193. Claustres (2005) 136. Blavatsky (1910) 1–2, 31–32, and especially 40: “[Theosophy] is the essence of all religion and of absolute truth, a drop of which underlies every creed.” See also Blavatsky (1877) 613. For Gurdjieff, see Tchechovitch (2006) 45–46. Ouspensky (1949) 44–51. Heap (1983) 95. The author checked the accuracy of his first draft on this point with Jeff Zaleski, the editor of Parabola, who broadly approved that draft, but suggested three improvements. Those improvements have been made. (Email correspondence of June 17, 2017.) Anonymous (2012) 101. Incidentally, Ouspensky shared this interest with Gurdjieff. George Adie, who knew both men, told me that Ouspensky had the complete Oxford English Dictionary and spent his last weeks immersed in it. The most important of these is Taylor (2014). There is a rather more obscure effort by Bonnasse (2008). Ouspensky (1949) 364. Macquarie Dictionary, 7th ed. Macquarie Dictionary Publishers, Sydney, 2017, vol. I, 527. The Shorter Oxford Dictionary, 3rd ed. with revised etymologies, Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1973, 700. Skeat (1882) vol. I, 199. Gurdjieff (1950) 569. Gurdjieff (2017) 173 and 317–318. Ware (1992) 395–414, 396–397. See “A Most Profitable Discourse on Sobriety and the Guarding of the Heart,” in Kadloubovsky and Palmer (1951) 23. Azize (2013) 178. Azize (2016a) 139–158, especially 139–144. Azize (2016a) 141. Bestul (2012) 157–166. Hollywood (2012) 9. Azize (2016a) 146. Anonymous (2012) 27. Trompf (2010) 1–2. See, for example, the collected definitions in Ferguson (1976) 126. See, for example, Katz (1978) 32–33, 40, 46–47 and 65–66; and Katz (2000) 3. Smith (1930) 2. Cade and Coxhead (1979) 4. Katz (2013) 5. Cousins (2000) 128. d’Aquili and Newberg (1999) 159. Cade and Coxhead (1979) 110–111. d’Aquili and Newberg (1999) 14. d’Aquili and Newberg (1999) 110. Lamm (2013) 5. Pike (1992), 194–204. Pike critiques Katz’s theories as misconceiving the material he studies: 204–206. Bogdan (2007) 5. See Stuckrad (2005) 1–5. van Egmond (1998) 312. Katz (2007) 6–10. Katz (2007) 173. Hanegraaff (1996) 421–422 and 351. von Stuckrad (2005) 10–11. Magee (2016) 284. Bogdan (2007) 6–10 and 20–21. I am aware of the Dictionary of Gnosis and Western Esotericism, edited by Hanegraaff, and the importance he attributes to the gnostic. However, I can find little to recommend in the articles on “Gurdjieff” and “Gurdjieff Tradition,” which, unfortunately, are replete with errors and bare assertions. Oral communication from a personal pupil of Staveley’s, April 2016. Claustres (2005) 146. Gurdjieff (2009) 101. This disoriented many of Ouspensky’s former pupils: Moore (1991) 297–298. Azize (2012) and Cusack (2017). It is arguable that the Sacred Dances and Movements represent an intermediate state between seclusion and the common domain, although I shall not enter into that question here. Petsche (2015) 1. Blom (2004) Adie and Azize (2015) 310. Michel de Salzmann (2011) draws on mythology, psychiatry, and mainstream religions, and not at all on occultism. In Michel de Salzmann (1987), a short entry in an encyclopedia, he compares Gurdjieff to Socrates or a Zen Patriarch. Walker (1963) 127–128. Sutcliffe (2015). Gurdjieff (2009) 100 (undated).

1 A Biographical Sketch of Gurdjieff

1.1 A Man with a Heritage but No Home That the life of George Ivanovitch Gurdjieff (December 1865 or January 1866–1949) should be found interesting, obscure, and controversial all at once is of a piece with his teaching. In Meetings with Remarkable Men, “Prince Lubovedsky” encounters an old man who uncannily uses the prince’s longforgotten childhood name. When Lubovedsky asks him who he is, the elder replies: “Is it not all the same to you, just now, who I am and what I am? . . . Is there really still alive in you that curiosity which is one of the chief reasons why the labors of your whole life have been without result?”1 In one conversation, Gurdjieff averred that “Curiosity is a dirty thing,” and distinguished a beneficent type of it (“needing-toknow”) from a maleficent “idiot” variety.2 Ouspensky explained: “He by no means wanted to make it easy for people to become acquainted with his ideas. On the contrary he considered that only by overcoming difficulties, however irrelevant and accidental, could people value his ideas.”3 Gurdjieff held that we do not value knowledge unless we have worked and thus paid for it, seeking it for the sake of a conscious aim, and not allowing ourselves to be distracted by trivialities and fancies.4 Munson states that although Gurdjieff usually spoke in bad English, he (Munson) heard him speak “perfect English” on some occasions, causing him to believe that “it was a deliberate part of his pedagogy to speak broken English. By making himself hard to understand, Gurdjieff obliged his listeners to give full attention. In order to get his meaning, they had to be active instead of passive toward him.”5 Such a perspective might leave a potential biographer abashed, but there is sound reason for inquiring as to certain aspects of Gurdjieff’s life: namely, they help us to understand the development of his teaching, and so to better grasp it. Research can, perhaps, be a form of payment—it is certainly a form of work. Gurdjieff appears on the world stage as a man with a heritage but no fixed home, a past presented as a mystery more than a history. An Oriental forced to the West by war and revolution, he hid key biographical details, presenting often improbable sagas, artfully mixing fact and myth to produce a narrative that pointed to the teaching, and told the lesson that daring and sacrifice were needed to make it one’s own. It was the teaching, meaning both his ideas and his methods, that he considered important. However, together with this concern for the teaching are signs of a certain negligence. In the 1930s, Gurdjieff gave only fitful signs of being driven by a mission; he allowed perhaps the most significant of his Sacred Dances to simply be forgotten; and he practically impeded Ouspensky and Orage, his two most successful lieutenants.6 His sometimes bizarre behavior and contrariness, especially difficult to understand when directed toward people who were not even his pupils, must be acknowledged: for instance, abusing priests totally unknown to him while driving past them, even causing one to fall heavily onto the pavement7; and telling Olga de Hartmann’s parents that if they did not do something he asked, “a coffin will be in this room and your daughter will be in it.”8 It is a question of judgment as to whether Gurdjieff did not sabotage whatever his mission was by devising too many difficulties, and sometimes making his presentation too baffling, particularly in the book to which he devoted so much time, Beelzebub: Some of its readers even complained about Beelzebub’s opacity to his face.9 The combination of three matters contributes to arouse interest in the man himself and his history: first, his presentation of a comprehensive system in an original garb with a plurality of often startlingly new techniques (such as the Movements and the Stop Exercise); second, the fact that he claimed to be both traditional and innovative, inviting questions as to the traditions he stood in; and third, his striking, even compelling, personal impact, supported by his wide practical abilities, and his occasional demonstration of a striking understanding of healing and trance. As cures, I might cite the mysterious healing of Peters by a transfer of energy, “as if a violent, electric blue light emanated from him and entered into me”10; and the treatment of Mrs. Beaumont with pills, followed by Gurdjieff asking her where her pain has gone, and her reply: “You have taken it.”11 He demonstrated an ability to cause trance or other states of altered consciousness by some sort of chemical preparation,12 and by music, with the ability to predict that a woman he had adventitiously met was “susceptible to hypnotism of a particular sort” and would go into “deep hypnosis” when a stated chord was struck—which she did.13 Neither is evidence of his ability in practical matters lacking, whether as a blacksmith14 or as a carpet salesman and improviser in carpet mending.15 Munson describes how, in 1927, when possibly sixty years old, Gurdjieff was able to put his back to the front of a car that had spilled into a ditch, and push it back to the road: Munson called it “remarkable” and thought, “What a Herculean back.”16 The fact that Gurdjieff was willing to do this is as eloquent of his character as that he was able to. In addition, Gurdjieff possessed an attested ability to communicate by telepathy: Whatever the true explanation of this apparent ability, testimony has been published by three eyewitnesses.17 Saurat asserts that Orage “was positive . . . [Gurdjieff] possessed supernatural powers,” and referred to an otherwise unattested episode of bilocation [sic].18 It would be

easy to dismiss such anecdotes, but they undoubtedly contributed to the legend. The interest in Gurdjieff’s sources, and hence in his biography, continues because he claimed to have brought to the West a long-lost and fuller tradition than any other known, rather than something of his own independent device, and he demonstrated an inexplicable understanding of states of consciousness. By speaking of remote and hidden monasteries in Meetings with Remarkable Men, he must have known that he was piquing interest in his own personal history.

1.2 Gurdjieff to 1912 Gurdjieff was born in 1865 or 1866,19 probably in Gumri, formerly known as Alexandropol, in modern Armenia.20 There is reason to suspect that Gurdjieff may not have been the son of his stated parents, but I am informed by Michael Benham that the basis for this is slimmer than once thought, resting on but one document (the marriage certificate of his stated parents), while another document, the 1907 Alexandropol census, contradicts it.21 There is still a good deal of evidence for the critical facts. First, he was raised in Alexandropol and Kars,22 in or near what is now Armenia, in a family of ancient Greek descent, whose domestic language was chiefly Armenian. As Gurdjieff states in Meetings, his father was the repository of many traditional songs.23 We can be sure of this because Ouspensky met the family, and after referring to Gurdjieff’s father and his bardship, adds: “They were people of a very old and very peculiar culture.”24 As indicated, the Alexandropol registry contains records of the marriages of Gurdjieff’s parents, and also of his uncle Vasily, and of the birth of Vasily’s son.25 Second, we can be sure that Gurdjieff was raised in a mix of various Asian cultures with a European, chiefly Russian strand. This is shown by the languages he spoke, first Greek and Armenian, but then Russian and Turkish.26 Ouspensky brings some contemporary color to this, saying of Alexandropol: It contained a great deal which was peculiar and original. Outwardly the Armenian part of the town calls to mind a town in Egypt or northern India. . . . The center of the town calls to mind a Russian country town, but alongside it is the bazaar which is entirely oriental . . . There is also the Greek quarter, the least interesting of all outwardly, where G.’s house was situated, and a Tartar suburb in the ravines, a very picturesque, but according to those in the other parts of the town, a rather dangerous place.27

It was also remembered by his family that he had been, as he indicates throughout Meetings, given to practical work and the repair of machines; that he had been resourceful in raising money, manufacturing and selling novelties and geegaws; and that he had engaged in lengthy travels, leaving home, returning after a period, and setting out again. Further, he mentioned to his family destinations such as Tibet.28 The problems with uncritically relying on Gurdjieff’s own literature are quite significant. First, there are some outright contradictions. For example, within eleven pages, Gurdjieff says that his father would stay up all night, and then that he would go to bed early, and made no exceptions, even on the night of his daughter’s wedding.29 Second, there are most improbable details. Thus, in Beelzebub, Gurdjieff states that when he was his grandmother’s eldest son, and but a “chubby mite,” small enough to hide in a slops bin, that grandmother, then over a hundred years old, died.30 On that basis, both his grandmother and his father would have been, on average, over forty-five years of age when they had their eldest children. Then, one wonders whether the story of his grandmother’s decease in Beelzebub is not an imaginative retelling of the death of his mother. In Beelzebub, Gurdjieff states that on her deathbed, his grandmother enjoined him to either do nothing or else do something original and then, “with a perceptible sense of disdain for all around her and with commendable self-cognizance, gave up her soul directly into the hands of . . . the Archangel Gabriel.”31 Now, Tchechovitch, who met Gurdjieff’s family, records the death of Gurdjieff’s mother. She dressed herself in what would be her funeral clothes, lay down on her bed, and: Her body was already cold. She uttered the words of her favorite prayer, “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name . . .,” which she repeated without stopping, while looking at those present as if to assure herself that she was still here, sometimes making heard, “Thy Kingdom come . . ., Hallowed be Thy name,” uttered more loudly, as if to understand herself. Her last words were those of an Armenian saying which when translated into the French of our Western life, unfortunately lose all sense and savor: The flower has faded . . . It leaves this life . . . The wind will scatter its seed . . . The bird having gone, You flew away To live in another country. And looking at those around her, she added: “And all you . . . laugh or cry . . . as you wish, I am already unheeding, I am already outside.” With these words, she closed her eyes, never to open them again.32

Gurdjieff’s grandmother was quite a personality, and her real-life figure may have influenced the anecdote in Beelzebub. Tchechovitch relates that this lady, known as “Sophia Padji,” was so renowned as a midwife and healer that, as Gurdjieff recalled, she bought a large field before her home to accommodate the number of people who came in wagons to consult her. One story was that when a doctor had been unable to help a mother facing imminent death during her delivery, Sophia Padji was called, to the doctor’s disdain. When she had effected a safe birth for mother and child, she turned to the doctor; then, flinging the placenta at his feet, she delivered herself of some choice words. Apparently, she impressed

the doctor, who congratulated her.33 Apart from the Beelzebub story of her decease, this may have been drawn on for Gurdjieff’s tale of delivery without midwife or doctor, having as it does the moral that physicians are often useless.34 Gurdjieff’s intent in the superficially autobiographical Meetings was ostensibly to “furnish the material required for a new creation and to prove its soundness and good quality.”35 He uses his personal history to do so, but the details are disguised and transformed. Yet, what can be understood of his childhood points to an immersion in a mosaic of religious and linguistic cultures, coexisting in a manner suggestive of his own later system. It was a world where it was easy to escape regimentation, and which provided extraordinary opportunities to travel across Asia, but of all those who lived in Armenia at that time, Gurdjieff was unique. It would appear, therefore, that there is reason to accept the general nature of Gurdjieff’s account of his childhood and of his travels in Meetings. Thus, in 1937, when Elizabeth Gordon, a longtime pupil, said that she used to wonder about whether all or only some of the stories were fables, Gurdjieff responded: “No, those stories true, only ten percent is fantasy. That reminds me how much I suffer when Soloviev died. For three months I was not myself. Such friend was—more than brother. I love him more than a mistress.”36 It may well be that much in Meetings is either true or based on historical events, but this does not enlighten us as to which specifics are true, and it is clear that Gurdjieff did wish to obscure his sources. Hence, Bennett stated that a rather important chapter was probably omitted from Meetings because it disclosed too accurately Gurdjieff’s sources: [A] chapter devoted to Prince Nijeradze . . . was never completed. There are two discordant translations of the original Armenian fragments . . . We gather that Prince Nijeradze had been concerned in some embarrassing episode connected with the difficulty Gurdjieff came up against, through having broken some of the rules of one of the brotherhoods where he had been receiving help and teaching. One who heard the chapter read in 1933, recounts that it produced a profound impression by its account of the state of a man who wakes up after dying, and realizes that he has lost the chief instrument of his life, his body, and recalls all he could have done with it while he was still alive.37

At some period, it is not entirely clear when, but it must have been in his youth, he does in fact seem to have studied medicine in Athens. The clearest evidence is this passage from the Solita Solano diaries: I tell him how extraordinary are the three Russian-Greek anatomical books he has lent me for my work at the Hospital St. Louis. GURDJIEFF: Just from those books, I studied for my degree. Old German printings and some diagrams, very rare. But of course I found later much better in one Chinese monastery.38

That Gurdjieff should have studied Western medicine is in accord with Peters recording him as keeping abreast of developments in that field.39 That he should then say that in the East he had learned something that trumped anything to be found in the West also corresponds to his theme of having found esoteric understanding in usually inaccessible places. But that he should have obtained a degree using three Russian volumes of anatomy and old German prints is surprising. More light is shed on this by an unattributed article in the Harvard Crimson of February 27, 1924, wherein his associate A. R. Orage is quoted as having said that “after graduating from the University of Athens, [Gurdjieff] spent thirty years travelling through the East, gathering as much knowledge as possible of Eastern tradition. . . . Gurdjieff didn’t invent the dances, he discovered them. They consist of ancient Greek, Egyptian and Buddhist and early Christian sacred classics—4000 all told.”40 The Boston Globe of February 29, 1924 reported that “The Gurdjieff theory was started in 600 B.C. by Pythagoras, who like Gurdjieff, was a Greek, although the latter skipped away from the University of Athens at a tender age, skipped aboard a tramp as a sailor and went in search of the wonders of the East.”41 A footnote by the editor states, without providing sources, that “Gurdjieff might well have studied medicine since he was seen with a number of medical texts throughout his travels.”42 There is, then, good reason to see Gurdjieff as having been raised in the Greek community of Asia Minor, having studied medicine in Athens, and then having commenced his travels in the East. For reasons I have given elsewhere, it is hopeless to try and piece together Gurdjieff’s movements in this period with any confidence.43 However, Gurdjieff spoke in an apparently serious manner to his small Paris group about an astounding experience in Tibet, and he told Orage of his activities and discoveries there in slim, but still significant, detail. One cannot prove that Gurdjieff was not attempting to deceive, and of course Gurdjieff would have known that even his casual comments would be seized on, but such disclosures are very different from the improbable saga of crossing the Gobi on stilts: noting that he did not contradict Gordon’s comment that that, at least, was a fable.44 However, the spotlight in Meetings is held not by the Gobi expedition, but by certain remote brotherhoods and their monasteries. First among these is the Sarmoung brotherhood, “of which the chief monastery is somewhere in the heart of Asia,” and the members seem to be Muslim, although willing to consider the case of a meritorious kaphir.45 Also important is the “World Brotherhood,” the members of which have a monastery in Central Asia, but “among the adepts of this monastery there were former Christians, Jews, Mohammedans, Buddhists, Lamaists, and even one Shamanist. All were united by God the Truth.”46 To sum up, then, that Gurdjieff did journey as far east as Tibet, India, and China, but most especially in Central Asia, Persia, and Egypt, is beyond any real doubt, being consistently attested by family and by his own assertions. While the traditions current in his family are decisive, it is certainly significant that someone as well traveled in the East as Ouspensky considered that Gurdjieff’s accounts were based on

extensive first-hand knowledge: “We spoke of India, of esotericism, and of yogi schools. I gathered that G. had travelled widely and had been in places of which I had only heard and which I very much wished to visit. Not only did my questions not embarrass him but it seemed to me that he put much more into each answer than I had asked.”47 In later conversations with Ouspensky about where he had found this knowledge “he said very little and just hinted at it. He mentioned Mount Athos, Sufi schools in Persia, Tibetan monasteries and Chitral schools in Central Asia and eastern Turkestan. He referred to dervishes too, but all this was always in a very indefinite manner.”48 Central to Gurdjieff’s tale of searching in the East for hidden knowledge was his account of having been acting in concert with others. Over halfway through Meetings he casually declares that the group called itself “The Seekers of Truth.”49 The greater bulk of the volume is filled with tales of Gurdjieff’s travels, generally with one or more of these people. I have dwelt on this, and especially on his having studied medicine in Athens, and retained some of his texts, partly because this material has so often been overlooked, and, relatedly, Gurdjieff’s early years are of programmatic importance for his later career. Only when this period is complete does he emerge into a fuller light. Gurdjieff does eventually appear in Russia, but the once current notion that Gurdjieff was associated with a Masonic lodge in Russia in 1909 seems to be unfounded.50 It had its basis in an anticommunist conspiracy theory, and so must remain suspect. As the notion of Gurdjieff’s association with this lodge has spread, it is as well to quote Benham: These were portions of transcripts of secret police interrogations of Gleb Bokii regarding a Masonic Lodge and its supposed members. A lot more is now known about both Bokii and Barchenko. Biographies of both have since been published in Russia. The complete transcripts of Bokii’s interrogations show that Bokii’s “confession” was heavily edited by his interrogator to fit the official party line of a Masonic conspiracy (something I suspected at the time) and many of the supposed members such as Gurdjieff and Roerich had nothing to do with it.51

No contemporary or near contemporary notices known of him are available before he appears in Russia, and the earliest reasonably secure date that can be given for that is 1911, for Bennett states that “a famous Russian lawyer named Rakhmilievitch, who had formerly been the leader of the St Petersburg bar before the war . . . had joined Gurdjieff in 1911, and was inclined to lay down the law as the senior pupil,” and that, in 1923, Gurdjieff stated that Rakhmilievitch had been his pupil for twelve years.52 This coincides with his statement in Herald that in 1911 he arrived in “Russian-Turkestan” and made his way to Moscow, while in Life Is Real he states that he opened his “Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man” in Moscow in 1912.53

1.3 P. D. Ouspensky The turning point in Gurdjieff’s career came in 1915 when P. D. Ouspensky (1878–1947) was introduced to him, a moment for which Gurdjieff had been planning and preparing.54 Although he is known today only because of his subsequent teaching of Gurdjieff’s system, most especially in the masterful In Search of the Miraculous, Ouspensky had quite a reputation as a journalist, a lecturer, and an author in Tsarist Russia. He enjoyed a vogue in Theosophical circles, attracting more than one thousand people to each of a series of talks in St. Petersburg.55 Ouspensky’s Tertium Organum, subtitled “The third canon of thought, a key to the enigmas of the world,” was published in Russian in either 1911 or 1912, where sales justified a second revised edition in 1916.56 The novel later to be known as The Strange Life of Ivan Osokin was published in Russia in 1915, under the title Kinemadrama.57 The stories later published as Talks with a Devil were published in Russia in 1914 and again in 1916, in that language.58 His first publication in a language other than Russian, was, so far as I am aware, the publication in Petersburg in 1913 of his booklet The Symbolism of the Tarot in English.59 Ouspensky’s “letters from Russia” had been in A. R. Orage’s New Age and were warmly received as containing “a remarkable picture of a society in a state of collapse,” while Tertium Organum was published in English in 1920 and expanded his reputation in the English world of letters.60 There is no question but that Ouspensky could write clearly and sometimes powerfully, as the chapter “In Search of the Miraculous” in A New Model of the Universe demonstrates. There he describes some of the key moments in his travels through the Orient, looking for what we might today term esoteric knowledge. Bennett, who had many conversations with Ouspensky in the 1920s, states that when Ouspensky traveled, “He met some of the outstanding yogis of the time, including Aurobindo . . . He was not impressed by any of them. He explained . . . that he was looking for ‘real knowledge’ and found only holy men who may have achieved liberation for themselves but could not transmit their methods to others.”61 Ouspensky returned to Russia after the outbreak of World War I. When Ouspensky delivered his lectures in Moscow in 1915, he was approached by two people who urged him to meet Gurdjieff. Ouspensky demurred, but one of them persisted, and Ouspensky finally gave in.62 From one perspective, he found much of what he had been searching for with Gurdjieff—a practical method—but from another, his trajectory swerved. It seems to me that, from the very beginning of his teaching in Russia, Gurdjieff had intended to commit some, at least, of his teaching to writing, and even before meeting Ouspensky, had arranged for some of his pupils to commit to develop an idea he had, “to acquaint the public . . . with our ideas,” into a story, but it was not judged successful.63 For Gurdjieff, whose native languages were Greek and Armenian, this intention to write caused him to alight on Ouspensky. Gurdjieff had instructed his pupils to study

Ouspensky’s Tertium Organum to determine what kind of being Ouspensky possessed, and so to determine what he would find on his trip to the Middle East and Asia.64 Later, Gurdjieff would say to Ouspensky that if he (Ouspensky) had understood what was in Tertium Organum, he (Gurdjieff) would “bow down to you and beg you to teach me.”65 Given Gurdjieff’s esteem for Ouspensky’s writing, it may not be coincidental that, in 1914, Ouspensky had published stories about meeting devils, and ten years later, Gurdjieff would commence a book of tales related by Beelzebub. This thesis of Gurdjieff’s desire to publish, and his decision to scout Ouspensky as his amanuensis even before they had met, finds some slender support in the statement of Marie Seton, who knew Ouspensky for six years, that “Tertium Organum . . . was the book which enticed Gurdjieff to desire Ouspensky as a collaborator.”66 Certainly, Bennett recalls that Gurdjieff said that Ouspensky had given an undertaking to write and publish, although it is not stated when the undertaking was made.67 At two points in his career, Gurdjieff wanted the aid of an accomplished writer. First of all, Gurdjieff and Ouspensky were of mutual benefit: Gurdjieff found a capable and successful author, and Ouspensky found his best material. Later, Orage would fill this role, and once more, both would profit. Even “the Rope,” the small group of women who met with him from 1935, at a period when he was apparently working with no one else, was based around three writers: Solita Solano, Margaret Anderson and Kathryn Hulme. Hulme states that at the very beginning of their association with Gurdjieff, they would help type out copies of Beelzebub, and “the manuscript readings dominated our nightly sessions and seemed to be their raison d’être. The supposition that Gurdjieff was using us as sounding boards for his massive composition was borne out by the way he watched us.”68 Gurdjieff did not employ the Rope in helping him write, but their acuity was of assistance in his quality control of the text. Although it is difficult to escape the conclusion that Gurdjieff set out to attract Ouspensky to himself, Ouspensky’s account of their first meeting is itself tendentious. As I have elsewhere contended, the proper genre of In Search of the Miraculous, in the form we have it, is an apologia, a defense of his decision to set up separately from Gurdjieff.69 While Ouspensky presents himself as having been courted by Gurdjieff, and having had interesting conversations with Gurdjieff before becoming his pupil, he apparently furnished Orage with a subtly different account; namely that he had asked Gurdjieff about certain of his (Ouspensky’s) favorite lecture themes on consciousness. Gurdjieff asked Ouspensky to set out the chief points of his teaching, and when Gurdjieff met this exposition with “a firm and deliberate contradiction,” Ouspensky “then joined this circle.”70 If this story is accurate, then, in Miraculous, Ouspensky was underplaying his intellectual debt to Gurdjieff, which is further reason to see in it a selfdefense. Yet, in his exposition of his meetings with Gurdjieff, and his outline of the teaching, Ouspensky never represents himself as anything but Gurdjieff’s student, and he sketches the ideas and Gurdjieff’s methods with admirable concision and fullness. It is possible that Gurdjieff and Ouspensky had mutually ambivalent feelings about each other. However, the turmoil of 1917 obliged Gurdjieff and his students to flee Russia, although, due to the uncertainty of the situation, this was not done at once.71 When he eventually left revolutionary Russia, Ouspensky made his way to Constantinople, where he taught Gurdjieff’s ideas, and hence to London, where he had admirers. While in Russia during 1919, he had had five letters published in New Age, which “under the skillful editorship of A. R. Orage, was the leading literary, artistic and cultural weekly paper published in England.”72 As Webb points out, Gurdjieff’s “law of otherwise” stands behind Ouspensky’s reference in these letters to what he called “the Law of Opposite Aims and Results,” namely that “everything leads to results that are contrary to what people intend to bring about and to which they strive.”73 Orage had helped Ouspensky find some employment with Denikin’s Volunteer Army, and, while in Russia, Ouspensky met a journalist who was connected with Orage.74 Through the publication of Tertium Organum in England, and its impact on the wealthy Lady Rothermere, Ouspensky was sent the necessary money to travel to London, and J. G. Bennett, who was then stationed in Turkey, arranged Ouspensky’s visa.75 Once Ouspensky arrived in London, he was feted by Lady Rothermere, who supported Gurdjieff and him until, some years later, switching her support to T. S. Eliot. It was at her table that Ouspensky first met Eliot.76 That Ouspensky does seem to have exerted some sort of influence on Eliot seems clear, particularly in respect of ideas of time, but this cannot be accurately defined, undoubtedly because Eliot preferred to be reticent.77 Once Ouspensky had established himself in England, his groups prospered. As well as teaching the system he had learned from Gurdjieff, he interested himself, deeply, in the hesychast tradition of Orthodox Christianity. He himself translated the Way of a Pilgrim (see Chapter 3) into English, apparently making several drafts.78 Ouspensky also discussed the Lord’s Prayer in his groups,79 and included much material from both Christian and Indian traditions in A New Model of the Universe. In a word, Ouspensky related his teaching of Gurdjieff’s system to other spiritual traditions, especially Orthodox Christianity. Gurdjieff had great hopes for Ouspensky as someone who could make his own ideas better known,80 but Ouspensky disappointed him, at least during his lifetime. Bennett provides what may be yet be the most concise and convincing analysis of the rupture between Gurdjieff and Ouspensky:

Gurdjieff began to drive Ouspensky away from him. . . . it might appear that the decision [to separate] was Ouspensky’s, but, as the story has become clearer, it is evident that this was something that Gurdjieff himself did in Ouspensky’s own interest: he put before Ouspensky a barrier . . . Only by going away and coming to understand for himself the true nature of the situation could he reach the point where a decision to return could be taken. But with Ouspensky, this decision was never taken. . . . Gurdjieff . . . spoke always disparagingly of Ouspensky whom he even accused of sabotaging the Work by his failure to carry out the undertaking to write the system in a form that would be intelligible to all, so making it necessary for Gurdjieff to take the unaccustomed role of author.81

This may also be what and to whom Gurdjieff was referring when he wrote, in Herald, of how, after his 1924 car accident, he decided that he would begin to dictate the material needed to “spread the essence of my ideas also by literature,” a plan that had so far “failed on account of the untrustworthiness and vicious idleness of those people whom I had specially prepared during many years for that specific purpose.”82 Ouspensky’s importance to Gurdjieff has often been understated, but not by E. C. Bowyer of the English Daily News, who wrote four “remarkably accurate and sober reports,” on February 15, 16, 17, and 19, 1923,83 based on a personal visit to Gurdjieff’s residence at the Prieuré at Fontainebleau, and interviews with Gurdjieff, Ouspensky, and Orage. While Orage said that Gurdjieff was “the Master” and “teacher,” with Ouspensky his “disciple,” he seems to have described Gurdjieff and Ouspensky as “the two men whose influence has called the settlement into being.”84 Ouspensky said that in Gurdjieff “he found a kindred spirit who had gone farther on the same road [i.e., as Ouspensky himself], and the two enthusiasts joined forces, traveling and teaching in Russia.”85 This is consistent with the report of Denis Saurat, a professor of English at King’s College, London, who met Orage and Gurdjieff in February 1923, writing about the impact Ouspensky had made in London in 1921, and how he had “gradually . . . let it be known that he was merely the forerunner of some great man,” but that in “preparing the way for him . . . [Ouspensky] had even invented a new method of instruction . . . [since] the disciples would have understood but little of a direct explanation.”86 Ouspensky dispensed with Gurdjieff’s unpredictability and swerving, substituting a more reliably organized series of talks and workshop-type format on weekends, where people would work at sundry tasks, everything from gardening and farming to cooking to translating and printing.87 As Ouspensky mentions throughout Miraculous, Gurdjieff had always held talks and group discussions and, at various points, required intense practical work from his pupils. But it was not as systematically and reliably undertaken and organized as it was with Ouspensky. The very disorganization of Gurdjieff’s undertakings and his admitting fresh people to positions of responsibility without proper training were major factors that led Ouspensky to leave Gurdjieff.88 The most plausible explanation I can devise for the bewilderment that Gurdjieff eventually aroused in Ouspensky, and that caused him to leave Gurdjieff, was that Gurdjieff was obliquely pushing Ouspensky to complete and publish what would be In Search of the Miraculous, and Ouspensky was refusing to do so. We do not know Ouspensky’s view of this “undertaking” and his “failure,” but at least two reasons come readily to mind. First, as late as September 15, 1938, Ouspensky was dissatisfied with the text, saying that some of it was “in a state of transformation.”89 Perhaps even more fundamentally, Ouspensky was in principle unwilling to publish such a book. On December 7, 1936, he said to his London group: In school one cannot begin with knowledge of all. So one begins with fragments. First one studies fragments relating to the psychological side, then fragments relating to man’s place in the world, etc. After several fragments have been studied, one is told to try and connect them together. If one is successful, one will have in this way the whole picture. And then one may be able to find the right place for each separate thing. There is no other way. One cannot learn the system from books. As a matter of fact I have written down and described how we met the system and studied it. But I realized what a different impression it all produces on readers as compared to us who actually were there. A reader will never be able to find the right center of gravity, so this book would be like any other book. This is why there are not text books on the system. Things can be written only for those who have studied.90 (italics added)

This may account for the vehemence with which Ouspensky refused to consider it. Honour Hammond recalls that, after his return to England in 1947, Ouspensky’s voice was weak, except on one occasion only: When he was asked whether the book should be published, “a great big strong voice came out of him and said ‘No’.”91 I return below to the question of the friction that often sprang up between Gurdjieff and his chief students, but it may be that, at least in the cases of Ouspensky and Orage (see Section 1.5), Gurdjieff felt he had been too demanding, or opaque, or both. It is significant that Gurdjieff made overtures to Ouspensky to return to him in 1947, sending his chief lieutenant, Jeanne de Salzmann,92 thereby indicating that he earnestly desired the approach to succeed. If Ouspensky’s In Search of the Miraculous is still the best introduction to Gurdjieff’s system, yet the book-length biographies of Ouspensky are all lacking in serious respects.93 No substantial biography of Ouspensky can be professionally attempted without studying the Russian culture in which he grew up, and without accessing the voluminous unpublished materials available in Yale’s Ouspensky collection.94 It would be necessary, to understand Ouspensky, to follow up his own hints about the importance of the artistic family into which he was born, a family that “did not belong to any particular class and was in touch with all classes,”95 and also of the allure of the prohibited theosophical literature in Russia in 1907, of which he wrote: It produced a very strong impression on me although I at once saw its weak side. The weak side was that, such as it was, it had no continuation. But it opened doors for me into a new and bigger world. I discovered the idea of esotericism, found a possible angle for the study of religion and mysticism, and received a new impulse for the study of “higher dimensions.”96

Again, Bennett offers the best insights, observing that “Like many other Russians, he [Ouspensky] dreamed of a cultured spirituality which would create an environment in which an enlightened few could draw out of the world and privately achieve liberation. This dream never entirely left him.”97 This may account, at least to some degree, for the heavy drinking of his last years,98 the apparent abandonment of his teaching, and, more so, his loss of confidence in it during 1947, his last year.99 A certain promise had been held out to Ouspensky, but he felt disappointed, considering that he never passed a certain level. In about 1945, he wrote to Bennett that intellectual processes alone were not enough for evolution, and that only the work of higher emotional center would help, but “we do not know how this is to be done.”100 If Seton is correct, in about 1946, Ouspensky said to her that “The System has become a profession with me,” and the idea depressed him.101 The absolute center of Ouspensky’s personal intellectual interest was not quite the Fourth Dimension, but rather the related concept of Recurrence, the idea that we live this life in a perpetual cycle, where certain changes can be introduced provided one’s life allows this.102 In this respect, none of the commentators have explored the similarity between Tolstoy’s exploration of déjà vu and his affirmation of the fixed role of historical personages in the march of predetermined history, with Ouspensky’s doctrine of Recurrence, and his affirmation of fixed role of historical personages in that.103 Of his commentators, perhaps Webb best understood the axial position of Recurrence for Ouspensky: His last days were spent revisiting people and places, as if seeking to impress their memory on himself so well that he would not need to be reborn to re-experience them.104 This was only the apogee of Ouspensky’s obsession: What may be his earliest artistic work, dating from before World War I, the unpublished novel Atis—The Bloodless Sacrifice (if it is indeed by Ouspensky and not merely attributed to him), contains these lines: “All will pass away and all will return anew / and communion with the Spirit will become Blood . . . There is no death, but there is transfiguration.”105 My own view is that there is, as yet, no fair study of Ouspensky: For example, none of them have worked through all the Yale materials. Then, Hunter’s P.D. Ouspensky: Pioneer of the Fourth Way lacks footnotes and references for important matters such as its account of Ouspensky’s meeting with Leo Tolstoy in a café.106 Lachman’s book is marked by limitations from his misstatement at the start of his book that Gurdjieff appeared in Moscow in 1915, to the one at its end that Dr. Kenneth Walker did not persevere with the Gurdjieff groups and that Bennett was the only one of Ouspensky’s pupils who remained with Gurdjieff.107 I have given careful consideration to writing more about Ouspensky, but I have so far only had leisure to dip into the unpublished materials, and until I can study them in depth, will abide by my own strictures.

1.4 Gurdjieff from 1912 to 1931 To return directly to Gurdjieff, the period of verifiable teaching for which details are available stretches from 1915 to 1949. Gurdjieff spent those years in Russia, Turkey, Germany, France, England, and the United States, with odd holidays in Switzerland and Monaco. The chief dates and records of his teaching are: • •

•

1915–1917, when Gurdjieff lived in Russia. The bulk of his teaching there is recorded in In Search of the Miraculous. There are also accounts by Thomas and Olga de Hartmann, and Anna ButkovskyHewitt. 1917–1922, when Gurdjieff moved through Asia and Europe. Some talks were taken down and have now been published in Gurdjieff’s Early Talks. Also, Tchechovitch’s posthumously published memoires are available, together with Ferapontoff’s notes of Gurdjieff’s teaching, now published as Constantinople Notes, and the memoirs of the de Hartmanns, referred to above. 1922–1949, when Gurdjieff made his home in France, but frequently traveled to the United States, and wrote The Herald of Coming Good and three “series of writings,” leaving transcripts of group meetings from the 1940s, some of which have been published. There is too much material from this period to summarize here: It is referred to throughout this book. In addition, A. R. Orage gave many talks in the United States on Gurdjieff and his system in the 1920s and 1930s.

It is notable that in the first of three periods, Gurdjieff lived in Moscow, almost certainly with his wife, although he traveled to St. Petersburg and for a time stayed there. He would meet his pupils in various places, chiefly houses, apartments, and cafés. From 1917 to 1922 he traveled from place to place, sometimes settling for a longer period, but always with a group of people whom he guided through the postwar upheavals. In the third period, he had two chief bases: the Prieuré of Fontainebleau, France, between 1922 and 1933, and a Paris apartment from 1937 until his death.108 He lived alone in that apartment with, at most, someone to help maintain it.109 How did Gurdjieff end up in Paris, when his story is that of a Greek from the Caucasus, an area fought over by Russia and Turkey? The Greeks of Turkey were uprooted and repatriated to a land neither they nor their ancestors had known for time out of mind, hence my statement that Gurdjieff appears as a man with a heritage but no home. He journeyed throughout the East having not found in a Western university what he sought, an explanation of the ultimate questions of the significance of life. He returned after about twenty years and made his home in Russia. This meant that it was his fate, as it was of so many other Russians, to become an emigre when the year of revolutions arrived in 1917, and like so many other

Russian fugitives, he ultimately found shelter in France, having sojourned in Georgia, then Constantinople, and then Germany.110 One established in France, Gurdjieff must have seemed a dynamo. Much has been written about the intense period at the Prieuré, where he established the most famous iteration of his Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man. Never was Gurdjieff so much reported by the press.111 He and his entourage, chiefly those who had traveled with him from Russia, took possession of the Prieuré on October 1, 1922. Although its numbers fluctuated from 1922, it was only effectively moribund about four years or so before he parted with possession of it in the winter of 1933–34.112 It had attracted sensational attention and was a magnet for many people with public reputations for talent if not genius (e.g., Margaret Anderson, Jane Heap, Lincoln Kirstein, Katherine Mansfield, A. R. Orage, and Jean Toomer).113 These people, Russian emigres, some of whom were quite distinguished, English and American artists and intellectuals alike, engaged in manual labor of all varieties, gardening, learning the Sacred Dances and Movements, and attended talks Gurdjieff might give. There were steam baths and occasionally large and exotic banquets. It was colorful and intense, even perhaps excessively so for some people. Thomas de Hartmann painted an intriguing portrait of it: At the Prieuré all these constantly changing works engulfed the whole person. Life outside somehow ceased to exist. . . . In the Prieuré, the life of a person, like a ball, was thrown from one situation into another. Our prayer was the Work, which concentrated together all spiritual and physical forces. The variety and constant change of tasks continually reawakened us. We were given minimal hours of sleep, just enough to give strength for the following day. Instead of abstinence, there was spending of forces to the utmost, attentive work renewing energies as they were spent in the manner of a rhythmic fly-wheel. There was no rejection of life within the Prieuré. On the contrary, life was expanded to the utmost intensity and spirituality.114

Gurdjieff himself was as enigmatic as ever, and since he was now in Western Europe, he appeared even more exotic to those from England and the United States than he had in Russia, where he was, after all, from areas under Russian domination. Munson states, probably acutely, that “Gurdjieff usually dashed people’s preconceptions when they met him, especially if they thought they were about to meet a holy man from the East.”115

1.5 A. R. Orage and America When he arrived in France, Gurdjieff was still in some contact with Ouspensky, who gathered an audience to hear Gurdjieff on February 23, 1922, in Kensington, London. Among them was Alfred Richard Orage (1873–1934), the redoubtable editor of the New Age, who, as we have seen, had published Ouspensky’s letters from Russia and offered him assistance at certain points. Unlike others with a significant contemporary reputation, which has now entirely faded, Orage is still known in the United Kingdom as one of the finest editors produced by England at a time when its intellectual press meant something. As the friend and editor of T. S. Eliot, G. B. Shaw, G. K. Chesterton, H. G. Wells, Ezra Pound, Herbert Read, and many lesser lights, Orage is still mentioned in the pertinent literature and is especially well known in Leeds, where he had been a vital figure in its cultural life before he had moved to London.116 Even as editor, Orage made some false moves, such as his patronage of the writing of Dmitri Mitrinovic, betrayed perhaps by enthusiasm for some means of arriving at “scientifically valid religious truths.”117 But this is only to say that his judgment was not infallible. Orage still enjoys a reputation as having been “one of the foremost English disciples of Nietzsche, the first to spread an accurate account of the German philosopher’s teaching in [the United Kingdom], in two pioneer books and the evangelist of the Superman cult of an unlimited transcendence of human limits.”118 Like G. K. Chesterton, Orage had long sought an integrated spiritual and social philosophy that would look like simple common sense However, adds Coates, Orage’s development did not stop there but rather had continued under Chesterton’s influence, so that he came to see humanity as being “a fixed species” and incapable of indefinite progress.119 If this is correct, one might suggest that Gurdjieff’s system brought an understanding of humanity that reconciled Orage’s growing skepticism about humanity with his aspirations for transcendence: According to Gurdjieff both are legitimate, for the possibility of development depends on individual change of being. This accords with Orage’s statements to Bowyer in 1923.120 Webb underplays Ouspensky’s significance when he states that Gurdjieff’s initial success in the West was due to Orage: It was demonstrably Ouspensky who achieved significant success in England (his pupils provided the funds for Gurdjieff to purchase the Prieuré) and prepared the first wave who crossed the Channel as students, and poured their resources and muscle into it.121 Orage himself heard of Gurdjieff through Ouspensky. But Orage’s importance for Gurdjieff’s undertakings in the United States can hardly be overstated: From the time Gurdjieff first visited the United States in 1924, it was Orage’s US groups, organized at Gurdjieff’s direction, that furnished Gurdjieff with funds and students.122 Orage had applied to Gurdjieff to be accepted into the Prieuré by letter dated July 22, 1922. While waiting to liquidate his affairs, he had recommended to Katherine Mansfield that she herself move there, thus opening another chapter in the Gurdjieff story. He was finally able to travel to France on October 13, 1923.123 Gurdjieff was then preparing the dramatic staging of his Sacred Dances and Movements, which would cause something of a stir, first in Paris, in December 1923, then from February 2, 1924 in the United States—although, oddly, they were never taken to England.124 A large volume, replete with eyewitness accounts, photographs, and contemporary recordings of the music, has been published, reproducing rare items such as the Carnegie Hall program.125 The flavor of the tour can be savored in this

extract from the Boston Post of March 6, 1924, published under the rather breathless heading: “Gurdjieff Rites Amaze Boston—Wonderful Dances of Asia Set before Audience of “Intellectuals” Cause Thrills in Plenty”: Gurdjieff captured Boston’s Intelligentsia last night at the Fine Arts Theatre. With one of the most amazing programs of Asian dances and weird music, the master of the Fontainebleau Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man, had a select audience of writers, poets, psychologists hurling over their distinguished approbation with spontaneous clattering of applause. . . . the Gurdjieff pupils, after months of practice in the natural forests outside of Paris, had absolute control of their bodies. Every muscle in their frames seemed to quiver and vibrate.126

Kirstein recounts how Hart Crane “had written his mother back in Ohio that he had witnessed a performance of dancing organized by George Gurdjieff, which although executed by amateurs “would stump the Russian ballet . . . Crane . . . had seen Diaghilev’s company at the old Metropolitan Opera House.”127 Although Crane was soon polarized against Gurdjieff, Kirstein spent time at the Prieuré. The point is that such people were talking about him at all, and were enthusiastically for or against.128 However, all this glory period ended abruptly with Gurdjieff’s major car accident, probably on July 8, 1924.129 In Life Is Real, Gurdjieff wrote of his response to it “Since I had not, when in full strength and health, succeeded in introducing in practice into the life of people the beneficial truths elucidated for them by me, then I must at least, at any cost, succeed in doing this in theory, before my death.”130 Thus Gurdjieff undertook the writing of three series of books. He commenced writing in Russian and, it seems, Armenian,131 but for the all-important English translation he relied chiefly on Orage, who, from 1924 to 1931, was vitally important to Gurdjieff for this as well as for the US groups that sustained Gurdjieff’s activities with students and money, work that became critically important when the Great Depression struck in late 1929. Until 1931, Orage was resident in New York, but twice crossed the Atlantic to assist Gurdjieff in the translation of Beelzebub and Meetings.132 So important was the English translation that it seems to have effectively become a new “original,” even in Gurdjieff’s mind, when he boasted of his English-language authorship133 and translations into French, into German, and even back into Russian were prepared from it.134 Orage’s role in the translation of the third series, Life Is Real, is unclear, but as that book refers to Orage’s death, he cannot have worked on all of it.135 Orage produced a mimeograph copy of Beelzebub in early 1931, and in September of that year, Gurdjieff approved its sale to the US students.136 Gurdjieff had intended to write “eight thick volumes,”137 which is the natural reading of the advertisement in Herald of Coming Good (see Chapter 5). I would conjecture that the second and third series were so much shorter than had been anticipated precisely because Gurdjieff had lost Orage’s services. Thus, Gurdjieff made several attempts to have Orage help with Herald itself, and was so dissatisfied with the efforts of two highly qualified Americans that, notwithstanding previous refusals, he again approached Orage.138 Gurdjieff relieved Orage of his position in the United States in somewhat murky circumstances that caused a good deal of confusion in the US groups and sparked the alienation of most of the Americans from Gurdjieff, a process that peaked with the publication of Herald in 1933. Orage had decided to return to his championing of the doctrine of Social Credit, even while in the United States, and gave talks on this and related topics under the heading of “The Leisured Society,” shortly before his return to Europe in 1931.139 Gurdjieff stated that Orage had betrayed him in his teaching and had used Gurdjieff to allow him a closer connection with his New York love interest.140 Gurdjieff avowed that he deliberately set out to put Orage’s students on their selection: Orage or himself.141 Munson, who was close to Orage at the time, wrote: The break between Orage and Gurdjieff that occurred in 1931 signified no dissent by Orage from the teaching of Gurdjieff. . . . Gurdjieff’s school was a school of individuation and the time comes when a man must find his own work in life. At that time Gurdjieff produced a strain and a crisis in their relations and cast the man out. So it had happened with Ouspensky; so it happened with Thomas de Hartmann and other advanced pupils. And so it happened with Orage when Gurdjieff destroyed the position of authority that Orage held for seven years in America. But Orage approved the ending of his period of American leadership. He felt that he had reached, at least for the time being, the end of his tutelage under Gurdjieff. He felt, too, that he had discharged his debt to Gurdjieff and was free to open the final phase of his career.142

This may well be correct, so far as it goes. At first blush, it seems reasonable: Gurdjieff seems to have engineered ruptures with Ouspensky, Thomas de Hartmann, Alexander Salzmann, and Jean Toomer. But he also had relationships with major pupils that did not see similar breaks (Sophia Ouspensky, Jane Heap, Louise March, and Jeanne de Salzmann). In between was Olga de Hartmann, who, as I read her story, was originally allowed to remain with Gurdjieff while he did not speak with Thomas, until Gurdjieff obliged her to choose between her husband and himself.143 Whatever the reason may have been, it is striking that Gurdjieff’s most fractious relationships were with males. It is not that the women were without responsibilities: de Salzmann worked with Edith Taylor on the French translation of his books144 and became his right hand for Movements, groups, and exercises. One might speculate whether Gurdjieff expected more from men, or was harder on them, but it does seem that, as a rule, he was more likely to be stubbornly and unintelligibly difficult with them. The plain fact is that Gurdjieff was unhappy with the direction in which Orage had been moving. By 1930, Orage was in fact changing his teaching, chiefly by adding the “psychological exercises” that he had been interested in even before meeting Gurdjieff, but that he published only in that year. These comprise mental exercises involving counting, words, memory, sense, and spatial perception, and calling for

inventiveness, imagination, and self-analysis.145 I return to these in more detail in Chapter 5 because there is a little more to the story than this outline would suggest. Taylor states, “When Gurdjieff heard this (of the publication of Psychological Exercises), he was furious, not only because of the departure from his own method, but because he feared that Orage would alienate a New York group that was still the major source of the funds that maintained the Institute.”146 Further, as we shall see in Chapter 5, some of the exercises, and most especially the essays that formed the bulk of the slim volume, were indebted to an unacknowledged Gurdjieff. In 1927, Orage started extra classes in which he and his students worked at the psychological exercises.147 However, in an unpublished and undated letter to Jane Heap, Carol Robinson records that “The attendance at psychological groups so small that meetings were discontinued.” Quite simply, she, like many, was short of funds in Depression-era America.148 A previously unpublished document sheds a little more light on these events and confirms that Gurdjieff was displeased with Orage’s “psychological exercises.” Dr. John Lester, who had been a personal pupil of Gurdjieff and Jane Heap, provided me with a copy of a typewritten document titled “Notes of Meetings with Mme Salzmann about Jane’s notes.” It was taken down after a meeting of Jane Heap’s former pupils with Jeanne de Salzmann in Switzerland in August 1973. Their question was whether they should publish extracts from the notes that Jane Heap would make before group meetings. At pp. 3–4, under the heading “The story of Orage,” they report de Salzmann saying: Orage had not been trained long enough by Gurdjieff before he began his Groups in New York. When one knows the Ideas well —when they are available to you—something can happen—there can be a danger. It always happens, everyone is exposed to this danger. Orage had many people around him—he could attract them—arouse their interest—but then something else happened and it was a trap—inside one has to know the danger of this—he began to ‘play’ with the Ideas. To make up exercises of his own and so on. Gurdjieff went to America and he saw what was happening. It was not good and he decided to do something about it. It would have been useless to say anything to Orage directly—it would have been no benefit for him. He had to receive a shock. He had to feel shame—deep inside. So G. began to talk to O.’s people—behind his back—and told them that they were being told nonsense—taught wrongly. There is a talk about it all in the Third Series. Naturally it soon got back to O.—there was much disturbance. G. then told every one of O’s people that they had to choose and that they would have to sign a paper and would solemnly swear never to see or speak to Orage again. There was to be a special meeting of all O’s people and they were then to sign. Mme S was there when Orage telephoned G—having of course heard about this meeting—Mme S heard the conversation on the second earpiece of the phone. O asked if he should come to the Meeting—would G let him come. G said—“Come Orage, come.” At the meeting when the papers were passed around for signature Orage was the first person to sign. As he gave the paper back to G, he said he hoped he would never see or speak to Orage again. It was very clever—he had felt something—he had been touched. A shock of this kind makes a complete difference to the direction of somebody’s life. Orage decided to go back to England—to give up his Groups—to go back into life. Maybe in another life he would return at just that point. But not only Orage was put on the spot—every one of his people as well. Many were very upset—Jessie Orage in particular. Of course some didn’t sign, but that was no good for them. They thought they had escaped but they didn’t. G never accepted these people back again. Perhaps later O. would have returned—maybe he was working—preparing to do so—he always stayed faithful—he didn’t go elsewhere to other teachings—perhaps he had only decided to go away into life for a time. When Orage died Gurdjieff felt that he had lost somebody valuable. [My italics]

Interestingly, some of this coincides exactly with Ouspensky’s view that Orage had “forgotten many things and had to invent.”149 Further, de Salzmann’s account confirms that Gurdjieff’s treatment of Orage was, at the best, indirect, and, at the worst, bizarre (e.g., teasing him that he had all along known of Orage’s deficiencies and not helped him with them).150 But as Gurdjieff had placed Orage in charge of the US operations, one may wonder whether the statement that Orage had not been sufficiently trained was not framed with the benefit of hindsight. Further, as we shall see in Sections 5.2 and 5.3, there is reason to think that Gurdjieff had had a significant hand in Orage’s psychological exercises. Gurdjieff nursed an apparently genuine affection for Orage, so that when he heard the news of Orage’s sudden death in 1934, Gurdjieff organized a concert of his piano music at Carnegie Hall, the program featuring Orage’s favorites from Gurdjieff’s oeuvre.151 Louise Welch, later one of the leaders of the Gurdjieff Foundation in New York, recalls that when the news of Orage’s death reached them: Group members and old friends met with Gurdjieff and, in a room we had rented for meetings . . . for a long time we sat together in silence. Then he spoke: “How you say it in your country? May his soul reach the Kingdom of Heaven!” I remember that evening well. There was a sight I was wholly unprepared for: Gurdjieff wiping the tears from his eyes with his fists, and saying to all of us: “This man . . . my brother.”152

It is possible that all of these elements had a place in the mosaic of events: Orage had been Gurdjieff’s most valued aide, but when he found his wife-to-be in New York, he decided to establish himself there on a firm basis, hence his introduction of more of his own ideas and methods at the expense of Gurdjieff’s own, even if he had developed his system as a highly intelligent and already accomplished individual who had learned a great deal from Gurdjieff—what his own student Daly King called “The Oragean Version,” meaning Orage’s version of Gurdjieff’s system.153 I shall suggest, in Chapter 5, that Orage’s elaboration of Gurdjieff’s methods into a series of exercises may well have stimulated Gurdjieff to develop his own rudimentary tasks and disciplines into what he would call “Transformed-contemplation.”

1.6 Gurdjieff from 1931 and de Salzmann

What happened to Gurdjieff in the 1930s? In this period he had only one small group, “the Rope,” made some trips to the United States to the group that he had himself sent into decline (his visits do not seem to have been terribly successful by any standard), and put on a good deal of weight.154 Taylor, who knew Gurdjieff, describes the second half of the 1930s as a period when Gurdjieff was “marking time.”155 I do not think this is wrong, but perhaps it was more specifically a period when he was not promoting his ideas. It may simply have been that he did not know what to do, meaning that he did not know what methods would work with people. He had tried very different methods in Russia, then in the Caucasus, at the Prieuré, and in the United States, and there are no signs whatever that he was well pleased with the results. From the discharge of Orage in 1931, Gurdjieff seems to have been waiting to see whether any of the seeds he had planted would come to bear fruit. Perhaps there was little else he could do: He had intended to write a second series in three volumes, and a third series in four. Nothing like this was produced; rather, each series comprises but one volume. My conjecture is that Gurdjieff had hoped Orage would again collaborate with him, and when this did not come to pass, he was at a dead end.156 Yet, in his final years, Gurdjieff appears as a patriarchal figure sought out and surrounded by pupils. These years were not so much in the public eye as those of 1922 to 1924, but perhaps the results were more lasting, for it is then that he laid the foundations of the Gurdjieff groups, which still exist. Four particularly intimate, even poignant, but brief recollections of these years exist in English, by Solange Claustres, Rina Hands, Annie-Lou Staveley, and René Zuber.157 From 1941 to 1946, he worked quite intensely with French groups, answering questions about the application of his ideas and methods in the social domain (see Chapter 11). It is not known when this group ended. From 1946 to 1949, he also had visitors, first from Jane Heap’s London group, then from Ouspensky’s English groups and from the United States. With these, he arranged many meals, the toasting of “Idiots,” trips into the countryside, and readings (especially from Beelzebub and Meetings), conversed, and taught his Movements, including the production of an entire new series of the same.158 Gurdjieff seems never again to have taught his ideas with the exhaustive range that he did in Russia, yet some of his methods, such as the music, the Sacred Dances or Movements, and the “contemplation-like exercises” with which this book deals were either introduced or developed after the Russian period. Their intellectual foundations are found in that earlier teaching, thus evidencing continuity in Gurdjieff’s teaching. Ouspensky indicates that when all but one of his original pupils had left him, after his trek across the Caucasus Mountains to Solchi, and his relocation in Tiflis that Gurdjieff continued work “with new people and in a new direction, basing it chiefly on art, that is, on music, dances, and rhythmic exercises.”159 What happened to make the 1940s so different? Alexander Salzmann had died in 1934, and his wife Jeanne had taken charge of his small group studying Gurdjieff’s teaching.160 The turning point seems to have been when Jeanne de Salzmann (1889–1990) presented Gurdjieff with those students she had prepared. This seems to have taken place for most of them in 1940 and 1941.161 Little has been published about Jeanne de Salzmann. Ravindra offered a book of his memories of her oral teaching,162 and there is a short portrait in Tchechovitch.163 I have summarized her correspondence with George Adie after his removal to Australia, and this paints a picture of a careful and diligent friend, able to keep her fingers on the pulse of the Gurdjieff teaching throughout the world.164 Lipsey’s treatment of Gurdjieff and his legacy mentions her often.165 But, at this point, anyone desiring a feel for her contribution is best advised to turn to her posthumously edited and published notes.166 I devote the entirety of Chapter 12 to the inner exercises as recorded by de Salzmann. If little more can be said about her life, yet her contribution in maintaining the system appears clearly enough in that section.

1.7 Summary It is difficult to sum up Gurdjieff, partly because he wanted to be enigmatic. The late George Adie Jr. insisted to me that Gurdjieff was “an Oriental,” and was unapologetically such, and that this might account, but only in part, for why Gurdjieff struck him, although he was but a child, as “an ongoing surprise.” To draw a distinction between Gurdjieff’s ideas and methods is useful, but, as noted in the introduction, for Gurdjieff, it would only be a distinction of convenience, not substance: They were drawn from and formed an integrated system. The teaching and study of ideas was, for Gurdjieff, a method for “working on oneself,” of effecting such a change of being that one’s faculties begin to operate as a harmonious whole, under the direction of a will that is guided by objective knowledge and moderated by conscience. For Gurdjieff, all teaching and learning should be as practical as possible, and directed to the aim of self-perfecting. An interesting anecdote is related by Marie-Madeleine Davy (1903–1998), a student of mysticism whose work is best known in France. She said of Gurdjieff, whom she knew, but not, it seems, well: “This person filled me with astonishment, but also produced an unease in me. I could acknowledge the originality of his teaching. Yet, his habit of using coarse expressions seemed to me gratuitous and totally useless, together.”167 Davy recounts the details of only one evening with Gurdjieff: One evening, I saw Gurdjieff burn two or three banknotes. Among a general silence, I dared raise my voice: “Mr. Gurdjieff, the poor are multiplying. You would do better to give this money to the wretched.” No one supported me. The master’s gaze reposed on me, more condescending than irritated. A few moments later I recalled, of course without making any absurd correspondence, that the Curé of Ars had performed a similar action in front of his frightened domestic. Providing someone with a lesson may call for unusual actions.168

This nicely captures the deliberately baffling nature of Gurdjieff, and the ambivalence that accompanied him and even his teaching. With Gurdjieff, the boundary between ideas and methods breaks down when we consider that the teaching of the ideas was designed to help his students “awake,” and being awake, to “perfect themselves.” A consideration of his methods enables us to discriminate what is essential in the ideas from what is subsidiary: The practice always points back to the central concepts.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19.

20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65.

Gurdjieff (1963) 158–159. Anonymous (2012) 161. Ouspensky (1949) 31. Ouspensky (1949) 23 and Nott (1961) 34. Munson (1985) 267. I deal with most of this below; however, Nott (1961) 82 notes the loss of the “Big Seven” and what was probably the most powerful Movement of all, the “Initiation of the Priestess,” also Moore (1991) 67. de Stjernvall (2013) 19–20. de Hartmann (1992) 254–255. Taylor (2001) 163. Peters (1980) 251. Bennett (1962) 194. Ouspensky (1949) 251–253. Peters (1980) 144–145. de Hartmann (1992) 191. Ouspensky (1949) 34–35. Munson (1985) 271–272. In Ouspensky (1949) 261–264; Bennett (2015) 117–118; and Hands (1991) 78. Taylor (2010) 31. For Gurdjieff’s date of birth, Taylor (2007a) 140 and (2008) 14–18; Claustres (2005) 5; the editor’s note “New light on an old puzzle” in de Hartmann (1992) 260–262; and Gurdjieff (1993) 12. In Herald, which I consider his most unguarded work (see Chapter 5), Gurdjieff spoke of living “absorbed in . . . researches” concerning the significance of life on earth, and especially of human life in particular “until the year 1892,” which would be an odd statement to make about a fifteen-year-old: Gurdjieff (1933) 13 and 16. Further, if Gurdjieff were effectively the same age as Ouspensky, who was born in 1878, it is unlikely that in 1915, when both were around thirty-seven years of age, Ouspensky (1949) 7 would describe Gurdjieff as “no longer young.” Documents such as passports will reflect the age Gurdjieff wished authorities to accept. Taylor (2008) 13. Email communication, November 22, 2016. Gurdjieff (1963) 33. Gurdjieff (1963) 32–33. Ouspensky (1949) 340. Email communication from Michael Benham, referring to a paper About the Origins of Gurdjieff and His Activities in Georgia by Dr. Manana Khomeriki of the Scientific Centre for Studies and Propaganda of History Ethnology and Religion, Tiblisi, Georgia, November 22, 2016. Lipsey (2019) 11. Ouspensky (1949) 341. See especially Tchechovitch (2003), “Sophie: Soeur de Monsieur Gurdjieff,” 200–203. Unfortunately, the “translation” in Tchekhovitch (2006) 221–226 is quite mendacious in parts. For his family’s belief that he had been to Tibet see Luba Gurdjieff (1993) 27–28. Compare Gurdjieff (1963) 34 and 45. Gurdjieff (1950) 27–29. Gurdjieff (1950) 27–28. Tchechovitch (2003) 188 (my translation). The contents of Tchekhovitch (2006) 239–240 are a mistranslation. Tchechovitch (2003) 186–187. The English version (2006) 238–239 again does not fairly translate the text. Gurdjieff (1950) 554–557. Gurdjieff (1933) 48. Anonymous (2012) 169. The death of Soloviev is at Gurdjieff (1963) 164–176. Bennett (1973) 178. Anonymous (2012) 195, reporting a conversation in New York in 1939. Peters (1980) 103–104. Email communication by Michael Benham, March 13, 2018. Taylor (2010) 146. Asterisked note at Taylor (2010) 146. Azize (2016b) 10–35. Gurdjieff (1963) 171, see n. 15 above. Gurdjieff (1963) 148. Byblos Gurdjieff (1963) 239. Byblos Ouspensky (1949) 7–8. Ouspensky, an early draft of (1949) recently made available online by an Ouspensky organization, which would seem to be authentic, as it concisely states what is found in (1949) 27, 36, 304, 314, and 355. https://www.ouspensky.org.uk/bibliography, accessed December 17, 2017. Gurdjieff (1963) 164–165. Taylor (2008) 38–40 and 169 had accepted the idea that Gurdjieff had been in a Russian lodge with Nikolai Roerich. Email communication, November 22, 2016. Bennett (1962) 89. The year appears on p. 98. Gurdjieff (1933) 59 and (1975) 28. Webb (1980) 133–134, relying chiefly on Ouspensky (1949) 6–7 and 16. In a meeting of September 23, 1937, Ouspensky said that the group had been in Moscow “several years before” (understanding this to be several years before Ouspensky met Gurdjieff in 1915): Ouspensky (1950) 121. Butkovsky-Hewitt (1978) 16–18, 29; Ouspensky (1949) 6. Driscoll (1985) 139 has 1911 as the date of publication. Ouspensky (1923) xv. Driscoll (1985) 140. Driscoll (1985) 145. Publication page Ouspensky (1913) and Webb (1980) 124, who adds that the publication took place in St. Petersburg. This was later incorporated into Ouspensky (1931). Carswell (1978) 170. See the introduction by Fairfax Hall in Ouspensky (1978) vii–viii. For the various editions and revisions of Tertium Organum, see Driscoll (1985) 139. Bennett’s introduction to Ouspensky (1988) 6. Ouspensky (1949) 6–7. Ouspensky (1949) 10–11. Ouspensky (1949) 16. Ouspensky (1949) 20.

66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105.

106. 107.

108. 109. 110. 111. 112. 113. 114. 115. 116. 117. 118. 119. 120. 121. 122. 123. 124. 125. 126. 127. 128. 129. 130. 131.

Seton (1962) 49. Bennett (1973) 234–235. Hulme (1997) 68–69. Azize (2016b) 13–15. Mairet (1966) 84. Ouspensky (1949) 34–345 and 367–370. From the introduction by Fairfax Hall, Ouspensky (1978) viii. Ouspensky (1978) 3; Webb (1980) 167. Webb (1980) 166 and 171–172. Webb (1980) 166 and 185. Garnett (1955) 224–226. Murray (1991) 262–264. Nick Dewey in Eadie (1997) 25–26. Ouspensky (1952) 292–298. Ouspensky (1949) 11 and 383. Bennett (1973) 234–235. Gurdjieff (1933) 42. Taylor (2010) 45. Taylor (2010) 47. Taylor (2010) 55. Taylor (2010) 28–30. Webb (1980) 393–394, 405, 409–410, and 440–445. Ouspensky (1949) 381, 384–385, and 389; Patterson (2014) 516–517. Ouspensky (1951) 378. Ouspensky (1951) 118–119. In Eadie (1997) 128. Moore (1991) 290–291. Hunter (2000), Lachman (2004), Reyner (1981), Wilson (1993). Patterson (2014) did access these and published some of them in (2014) 515–524. Ouspensky (1952) 299. Ouspensky (1952) 300–301. Bennett’s introduction to Ouspensky (1988) 7. Seton (1962) 52; Webb (1980) 445–460. Walker (1963) 104–107. Bennett (1962) 159. In 1937, Ouspensky had referred to both the need and the difficulty of reaching a higher emotional center, saying that one “had to see how we can reach this”: Ouspensky (1952) 294. Seton (1962) 54. De Ropp also reports Ouspensky’s lack of morale while in New York: de Ropp (1979) 151. Both accounts agree on excessive consumption of alcohol and an obsession with his youth in Russia. See Ouspensky (1934) 464–512 and (1952) 1–18. On Ouspensky’s obsession with it, which became stronger in his last years, see Walker (1963) 106–107. Compare Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, vol. 2, Pt. 4, Chapter 9 and vol. 3, Pt. 1, Chapter 1 and Pt. 2, Chapter 1 with Ouspensky (1931) 482. Both even use Napoleon, among others, as an example of the idea that “the higher they stand in the social hierarchy the less freedom they have” (War and Peace, vol. 3, Pt. 2, Chapter 1). While Walker (1963) 105–107 states the facts, his interpretation of them may be wrong: de Ropp (1979) 159–161 suggests what is I think the more likely reason for Ouspensky’s behavior—his aim was not to remember for his next recurrence, but to cease recurring altogether. From an unnumbered pamphlet of 23 lines. Opposite the title page, it is stated: “The three poems herein were excerpted from the manuscript . . . Atis—The Bloodless Sacrifice, discovered in the P D Ouspensky Papers in the Manuscripts and Archives Department of the Sterling Memorial Library at Yale University . . . likely written by Ouspensky within the first decades of this century.” If Ouspensky did write it, and it was not merely fortuitously among his papers, one would expect it to have been completed before he met Gurdjieff, as his writing from that time is rather well attested. Hunter (2000) 17–18. Lachman (2004) 1 and 276. Gurdjieff appeared in Moscow prior to World War I, and not only Walker but also George and Helen Adie, Lord and Lady Pentland, and many other of Ouspensky’s pupils remained with Gurdjieff and with Gurdjieff groups until their deaths. There are more substantial errors. For example, in Gurdjieff, “false personality” is so far from being “all those unsavory aspects of oneself that one would like to ignore,” as Lachman has it, at 297, it is one’s “imaginary picture of oneself”: Ouspensky (1952) 248. See Taylor (2008) 225–229. These details are not controversial. De Stjernvall (2013) 35. Ouspensky (1949) 382–384; de Hartmann (1992) 118, 150–151, and 161. See the French, English, and American newspaper articles collected in Taylor (2010) 25–124. Taylor (2008) 85, 150, 171, and 174 and Taylor (2001) 190. Patterson (2014). de Hartmann (1992) 191–192. Munson (1985) 266. The literature on Orage is correspondingly large, but see in the index, Webb (1980); Taylor (2001). The best biographies known to me are Mairet (1966), of which Orage is the sole focus, and Carswell (1978), where Orage is a major but not the only interest. Martin (1967) 284–286: The period in 1920 and 1921 when Orage was publishing Mitrinovic was the period of the lowest circulation. Coates (1984) 240–41. Coates (1984) 239–241. Taylor (2010) 53–54. Taylor (2008) 82–89 and (2001) 25 n.9. The story of Gurdjieff’s demands for money from the US students is recounted throughout Taylor (1998) and (2001) passim, and even by Gurdjieff himself, not least in the appendix to Gurdjieff (1963) called “The Material Question.” Taylor (2001) 24–26. Taylor (2008) 99–108. Blom (2006) 164. Blom (2006) 164 (Carnegie Hall) and 172 (Boston). Kirstein (1991) 63–64. Kirstein (1991) 63–67. Patterson (2014) 614. Gurdjieff (1975) 4. Munson unequivocally states that he was with Gurdjieff when he was writing in Armenian. At the top of the page he has named Beelzebub as “the book he was currently writing”: Munson (1985) 267. March, who worked on the German translation, states that it was in Russian with a small part in Armenian: March (2012) 37. The portions from Meetings on

132. 133. 134. 135. 136. 137. 138. 139. 140. 141. 142. 143. 144. 145. 146. 147. 148. 149. 150. 151. 152. 153. 154. 155. 156. 157. 158. 159. 160. 161. 162. 163. 164. 165. 166. 167. 168.

Prince Nijeradze were written in Armenian: Bennett (1973) 178. The best treatment is that of Taylor (2012) 55–70. Taylor (2012) 69, and in that of March, his German translator: (2012) 64. Taylor (2012) 63. Taylor (2012) 71–74. Taylor (2012) 64. Gurdjieff (1950) 1185. Taylor (2001) 191–194. Munson (1985) 281–283. Gurdjieff (1975) 92–93 and 96. Gurdjieff 91975) 72, 100–101, 118–127. Munson (1985) 283. De Hartmann (1992) 254–255. Taylor (2012) 62. Taylor (1998) 121; Orage (1998) 7–8. Taylor (1998) 121–122. Webb (1980) 309. Made available to me by the kindness of Barbara Todd Smyth. Ouspensky (1951) 492, speaking on July 17, 1941, in New York. Taylor (2001) 175. Taylor (2012) 112. Welch (1982) 136–137. Webb (1980) 304–309. See the photograph in Patterson (2014) 318. For this period, see Lipsey (2019) 151–175. Taylor (2008) 188. Gurdjieff (1933) 49. Claustres (2005), Hands (1991), Staveley (1978), and Zuber (1980). Webb (1980) 461–474 and van Dullemen (2014) 175–179. Ouspensky (1949) 376. Moore (1991) 237 and 258. Moore (1991) 275; Claustres (2003) 11. Ravindra (1999). Tchechovitch (2003) 211–215. Adie and Azize (2015) 105–122. Lipsey (2019). De Salzmann (2010). Davy (1989) 125 (my translation). Davy (1989) 126 (my translation).

2 An Overview of Gurdjieff’s Ideas

2.1 An Overview of Gurdjieff’s System I contend that Gurdjieff brought a mystic discipline that comprised a comprehensive system, meaning a broad, not a complete, system; that is, a scheme that can be consulted for ideas and clues, not necessarily for complete answers. Gurdjieff stated: “All this teaching is given in fragments—[and so] must be pieced together [by the student].”1 Beyond even that, the nature of the “system” requires each student to make her own final discoveries.2 Perhaps it was as a sign of this that Gurdjieff left his “Third Series” unfinished in midsentence. This is consistent with Ouspensky’s chosen title for his magnum opus being not In Search of the Miraculous but rather Fragments of an Unknown Teaching. In Gurdjieff, cosmology and psychology cohere. The principle of his cosmology, that the cosmos is a unity that manifests as a diversity, is also the principle of his psychology, that man is a potential unity who presently manifests as a diversity. Gurdjieff said that the human condition can be addressed through one of what he termed “the four ways”: the way of the fakir (who works on his body), the yogi (who works on his mind), the monk (who works on his feeling), or the “sly man” (who works on all four at the same time). This Fourth Way was Gurdjieff’s own.3 In Gurdjieff’s terms, all of these ways are aimed at developing the soul (or higher-being-body) so that one can achieve immortality, even if practitioners of those ways would themselves speak in other terms (e.g., salvation of the soul, or nirvana). This teaching of ways is not meant to be taken rigidly, as if speaking of four completely exclusive roads. As Ferapontoff stated: “The fakir is not taken in a literal sense. Fakir [is taken] in quotation marks. . . . Monk in quotation marks.”4 Ouspensky even refers to a monastic practice as a form of “yoga” because the first three ways are usually met in mixed, not pure, forms.5 There is also this oddity: Gurdjieff never claimed to have discovered the Fourth Way in life, where it is supposed to be sited: The tales in Meetings indicate more than anything else that a monastery, what he calls the “Sarmoung monastery,” was his critical source. The fact that Gurdjieff’s own development probably took place in a monastery in the East has significant consequences for his own career, and, in particular, his own assessment that he had failed to produce students of an appropriate level, using methods to be implemented in the social domain of life, and in the West (see the review of Gurdjieff’s career to 1939 in Section 10.8).6 Despite the idea that the Fourth Way does not require a monastery or ashram, but should be undergone in the conditions of ordinary life, Gurdjieff had lived with other people during the second period, often in intensive teaching conditions.7 As we have seen, Orage, who had been “in life,” sold his business to move to the Prieuré. What, then, had become of the idea that “the conditions of life in which a man is placed at the beginning of his work, in which . . . the work finds him, are the best possible for him. . . . Any conditions different from those created by life would be artificial for a man”?8 Yet Gurdjieff founded “Institutes” in Essentuki (even if it was not called that), in Georgia, Constantinople, and France. The last of these was effectively downsized in 1924, although it lingered in a diminished form for some time. Gurdjieff told Bennett that his system gave the best results when people could live and work together, and he apparently made plans for a new Institute in 1948 and 1949.9 George Adie, an architect, recalls that he and another architect were taken by Gurdjieff to examine premises in France as a possible site, and that Gurdjieff carried out a substantial inspection.10 However, Gurdjieff died before anything could be finalized. If a person’s ordinary conditions were the best for him or her, and this was a feature of the Fourth Way, these facts are anomalous (similarly, see Section 1.4). On my reading of Gurdjieff’s ideas, informed by a practical acquaintance with his methods as taught by some of his personal pupils, the fundamental insight is that as we are we do not perceive reality, but we can change our being, and with that change, we will be able to perceive our own reality, at least to some degree. That is, we now see neither ourselves nor anything else objectively, but there is a possibility of changing, so that we can become free of our subjectivities. To go further, and perceive objective reality, is in theory possible, but in practice it is nearly impossible. Yet, Gurdjieff said in his Third Series, Life Is Real, Only Then, When “I Am,” that his aim in writing that third and ultimate series was “to share the possibilities which I had discovered of touching reality and, if so desired, even merging with it.”11 Gurdjieff’s writings demonstrate this fundamental concentration on reality. In the only book he published during his lifetime, Herald of Coming Good, he wrote: [I]f a man desires sincerely and seriously, and out of no mere curiosity, to attain to the knowledge of the way leading to Real Being, and if he [should] fulfil to this end all that is requested of him and begin, in fact, among other things to aid indirectly . . . the attainment of this by others, he will, by this act alone, become as it were the forming ground for the real data contributing to the manifestation of objective and actual Good.12

So there is, for Gurdjieff, an objective reality, and it is related to “objective and actual Good,” and a condition of attaining to it is that we assist others to approach it. We can touch and “even merge” with this reality, but, implicitly, we do not presently touch it, and hence are separated from it. This separation

from reality is our “sleep.” The key to our present position is that reality, in its absolute sense, is a unity, possessing the unity not of a monolith but of an organism, for the Whole is One “as an apple is one.”13 However, we ourselves, as parts of that Whole, do not possess the internal unity or individuality that we should. Lacking this unity in ourselves, our faculties cannot work as they should, and so cannot perceive objective reality. If we desire to change, then this diversity needs to be harmonized into or at least toward a unity, albeit a relative unity, a sort of microcosm of the larger cosmos. As A. R. Orage said in expounding Gurdjieff’s system: “An individual is a microcosm but the only difference between it and the Megalocosmos is that the Megalocosmos is very much more actualized than we [small fry] are.”14 “Megalocosmos” is clearly enough from the Greek, and means “the Great Cosmos.” Between ourselves on this planet and the Whole, there are other levels or orders, such as those of the solar system and the Milky Way. Each of these can be considered as a “cosmos” because it is “a living being which lives, breathes, thinks, feels, is born and dies.”15 Each cosmos being a living entity, it follows that, in our cosmos, “There is only one life and we are the highest biological development [in this cosmos]” (my italics).16 This single life force manifests throughout the cosmos: In human life, it can be developed into “objective reason,” which has the corollary that the purpose of human life is “to attain within [ourselves] objective reason.”17 In this system of cosmoses or “orders,” four insights are fundamental: 1. The universe is a creation. 2. The creation was a dynamic movement from the cosmic Whole into the cosmic plurality of phenomena, so that intelligent creatures are ultimately the products of higher intelligence, not chance developments from lower forms. 3. The purpose of the universe, and all that is in it, is that the plurality should maintain the cosmic Whole by transforming coarser substances into finer, and thereby have the chance to itself evolve into a higher form. 4. The highest purpose of humanity is consciously joining in that process of maintaining that Whole through the conscious transformation of received substances, and so developing objective reason, and evolving to serve higher purposes as a higher form of life.

Implicit in this is an exalted anthropology: Man is not “just an animal.” As Gurdjieff said, “man is a different formula,” meaning a different type of creature from animals.18 Man has a unique place on the planet, and is able to “coat and crystallize” within his physical (“planetary”) body what Gurdjieff called “higher-being-bodies,” the “soul” and the “spirit.” Differing from other systems and the major monotheist religions, Gurdjieff’s theory states that we have souls only in embryo.19 Further, by the very fact of their existence and possibilities, every human being has duties. Gurdjieff set out five injunctions, which he called the “being-obligolnian-strivings”: The first striving: to have in their ordinary being-existence everything satisfying and really necessary for their planetary body. The second striving: to have a constant and unflagging instinctive need for self-perfection in the sense of being. The third: the conscious striving to know ever more and more concerning the laws of World-creation and Worldmaintenance. The fourth: the striving from the beginning of their existence to pay for their arising and their individuality as quickly as possible, in order afterwards to be free to lighten as much as possible the Sorrow of our COMMON FATHER. And the fifth: the striving always to assist the most rapid perfecting of other beings, both those similar to oneself and those of other forms, up to the degree of the sacred “Martfotai” that is up to the degree of self-individuality.20

Perhaps the essence of each injunction could be described as: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Physical health Conscious development of being Understanding of the nature and purpose of creation Payment for what one has received and achieved Service, or “helping God.”

There would then be an internal logic here: One commences with one’s own physical health, then the development of being, then understanding the role of one’s being in the cosmic design, and finally, discharging one’s “debt” for existence,21 so that one can help God through service. Clearly, this is more consistent with mainstream religious and spiritual traditions, and with the esoteric tradition of Blavatsky’s Theosophy, than it is with the occultism of Crowley and his ilk. I will now elaborate on this overview.

2.2 Reality and Creation For Gurdjieff, reality is a property of the whole. The cosmos is a unity in diversity: The kernel of all unity is the “Most Holy Sun Absolute,” which is the abode of HIS ENDLESSNESS (Gurdjieff’s small capitals): the “God” figure in Beelzebub. In what Gurdjieff terms “the Great Universe,” all phenomena in general, without exception wherever they arise and manifest, are simply successively law-conformable “Fractions” of some whole phenomenon that has its prime arising on the “Most Holy Sun Absolute.”22 This means, I suggest, that the reality we know is only a partial or incomplete reality. It is neither a complete illusion, nor is it perfectly true: The whole of reality is found only on the Most Holy Sun Absolute. That this abode should be called “Absolute” indicates that it depends on nothing else. The Most Holy Sun Absolute is the ultimate platform of the universe, and was at one time the “sole cosmic concentration,”23 meaning that there was no other place in the universe. It is, effectively, “heaven.” So, why is there a universe? Gurdjieff’s explanation is, effectively, that God created the universe not because he desired to, but because he needed to in order to maintain the Sun Absolute, his “home.”

Gurdjieff states: From the third most sacred canticle of our cherubim and seraphim we were worthy of learning that our CREATOR OMNIPOTENT once ascertained that this same Sun Absolute, on which HE dwelt with HIS cherubim and seraphim was, although almost imperceptibly yet nevertheless gradually, diminishing in volume.24

Concerned at the gradual disappearance of his home, the Creator reviewed all the “laws” that maintained the Sun Absolute, and concluded that its volume was diminishing because of the flow of time (which Gurdjieff calls the “Heropass”). He concluded that this process of diminution had to be remedied, as otherwise “this sole place of HIS Being” would be destroyed.25 Gurdjieff does not say that the Creator would himself be destroyed, only his home. Whether we can draw the conclusion that the Creator himself could have perished, or whether we have to prescind from any such knowledge, is an open question. The “fifth canticle of the cherubim” informs us that the Creator decided to maintain the Sun Absolute by creating the universe we know, the “Megalocosmos.”26 We should note that, at this stage, the source for Gurdjieff’s narrative is stated to be not his own researches or even ancient tradition, but rather canticles of the highest ranks of angels. This is more truly revelation than tradition. Prior to this point, says Gurdjieff, the universe was a closed system, meaning that it was “not depending on any forces proceeding from outside,”27 and was structured by two “fundamental cosmic laws,” the “sacred Heptaparaparshinokh” and the “sacred Triamazikamno.”28 These are the “Law of Seven” and the “Law of Three.” The Law of Seven says that any line of flow of forces lawfully deflects in the course of its flow until it unites again at the end of the flow.29 That is, no process will, by itself, proceed in a uniform manner: There are no naturally straight lines of development. The Law of Seven is a cosmic law that, for us, is most clearly exemplified in the musical octave—that is, the doubling of vibrations that is found between the beginning and end of any one octave is taken as the basis of the understanding of any process.30 The musical octave commences with the note “DO,” and proceeds to “RE,” “MI,” “FA,” “SOL,” “LA,” “SI” and “DO.” In Gurdjieff’s system, any process or line of action can be analyzed by analogy with this octave, for every complete process is a complete octave. To be completed, any line of action must proceed from “DO” to “DO” in some octave.31 To develop in an orderly manner, this line needs special care at three points: This is often lost sight of because Ouspensky was only told about the two intervals between “MI” and “FA” and “SI” and “DO,” not about the anomaly at the note “SOL”: That was added in Beelzebub. To take these in order: The particularity of the intervals between “MI” and “FA” and between “SI” and “DO” is that the notes are only one semitone rather than one entire tone apart.32 At those two intervals, the line of development is especially vulnerable to outside forces and hence to deviate from the original impulse.33 As Gurdjieff is reported to have said: Such a . . . change of direction, we can observe in everything. After a certain period of energetic activity or strong emotion or a right understanding a reaction comes, work becomes tedious and tiring; moments of fatigue and indifference enter into feeling; . . . a search for compromises begins; suppression, evasion of difficult problems.34

The relevance of this to Gurdjieff’s exercises will become apparent later, especially in Chapter 17, for his “Preparation” can be understood as an attempt to begin the day by striking a note “DO” of such a nature, and making plans of such a kind, that the line of inner activity can continue during the day instead of suffering deviation or weakening. Gurdjieff taught that in Russia. But in the final edition of Beelzebub, he added something that was lacking even from the 1931 transcript: that the Creator “disharmonized” the fifth point (SOL) simply by altering the other intervals, with the result that: If the completing process of this sacred law flows in conditions where . . . there are many “extraneously-caused-vibrations,” then all its functioning gives only external results. But if this same process proceeds in absolute quiet without any external “extraneously-caused-vibrations” whatsoever, then all the results of the action of its functioning remain within that concentration in which it completes its process, and for the outside, these results only become evident on direct and immediate contact with it.35

I take this to mean that changing the process of the octave at the third and seventh points necessarily places strain on the fifth point, so that if there was calm, the passage of forces within anyone or anything at the fifth or middle point continued within the being, for the benefit of that being. If there was disturbance, then there would be an external reaction. Applying this to us, I suggest that Gurdjieff was saying that when, for example, we are speaking, we have a better possibility of maintaining some intention in peace. Whether we do or not will depend on what happens at the third and seventh intervals (e.g., whether we are distracted). But if there is disturbance (e.g., anxiety), then by the middle of the process we will only be reacting. This has a bearing upon Transformed-contemplation. The Law of Three, or of “Triamazikamno,” means that each phenomenon must be caused by the confluence or blending of three forces, which, relative to each other at the point of meeting, must conduct active, passive, and neutralizing forces. That law provides each phenomenon with corresponding qualities (active, passive, and neutralizing), which cannot necessarily be sensed. Possessing these three dynamic qualities, each phenomenon has the potential to pass into another. It means, therefore, that each phenomenon includes within itself a principle of change.36 The working of the Law of Seven was changed so that it needed something from outside to enter at various points to continue the direction with which it had begun, and so that it could give either external

or internal results.37 The entry of forces is a feeding, and by giving external results, it formed the sources of food from the unorganized “Etherokrilno.” The Word-God, acting on “the prime-source cosmic substance Etherokrilno,” contributed to the “crystallization” of “concentrations” called “Second-orderSuns.”38 The “Word-God” is an emanation of the Sun Absolute,39 which Gurdjieff identified with the Holy Ghost.40 The universe thus became, therefore, a vast system of feeding and eating. This system that maintains “the existence of the Sun Absolute is called ‘Trogoautoegocrat’,”41 meaning “I hold myself together by feeding.”42 This idea was adumbrated in Russia, when Gurdjieff showed to Ouspensky and others the “Diagram of Everything Living,” which commences with the Absolute, and includes within its scope metals, minerals, plants, invertebrates, vertebrates, man, angels, archangels, “the eternal unchanging,” and, again, the Absolute.43 It shows every class of entity, what it feeds on, and what feeds on it. To try and recap so far, in simpler terms, Gurdjieff seems to say that: 1. God created the universe we know, because before the creation, there were only an ocean of Etherokrilno and “the Most Holy Sun Absolute,” and these were diminishing. 2. To save the Sun Absolute, he decided to nourish it with food from the Etherokrilno, which he converted into a system of involving and evolving energies. The highest of these energies directly support the Most Holy Sun Absolute. 3. The cosmos is, therefore, a designed and interrelated creation.

The interrelationship of this scheme is exemplified in the Enneagram, a symbolic representation of the mutual working of the two fundamental laws: the Laws of Three and Seven. The Enneagram is a circle marked at nine points along its circumference, and intersected by internal lines joining the nine points. Each entity “with an orderly and complete existence” can be described as an Enneagram.44 The apex of the circle does double service: It plays a role in both of the laws, thus allowing ten points to be shown by nine. Seven of these points relate to the Law of Seven, and three to the Law of Three. Two points of the Law of Three are evenly distributed among six of the points of the Law of Seven. This co-working of the two laws, shown in their co-placement in the one symbol, reflects the view that it is not ultimately possible to draw a shining line between phenomena or matter and processes or energy, for “matter is not separate from energy: where there is matter, there is energy and where there is energy there is matter.”45 Apparently, the first names for these laws were “Eptaparabarshinok means only seven making one. Triamasikanok means three making one.”46 Gurdjieff’s subtly changing the names nonetheless disguises that both laws relate and reduce diversity to unity. Gurdjieff’s account of two Chinese brothers who “constate and cognize” the Law of Seven has them conclude that “opium consists of seven independent crystallizations,” a formulation that treats that Law as resulting in a sevenfoldness within phenomena, and perhaps in both phenomena and processes; but nonetheless, presenting it as more than a question of process alone, which is the firm impression from his statements in Russia.47 The Law of Three, however, was always said to relate to both actions and phenomena.48 The work of the two Laws is therefore necessarily concurrent. These interspersed points that mark the Law of Three represent junctures at which an outside force can enter the development of the Law of Seven. That outside force itself represents another Enneagram. Therefore, the circle that, taken by itself, is “isolated from its surroundings,” can by virtue of the presence of the Law of Three at these two junctures and at the apex “enter into orderly correlation with another circle.”49 That is, the octave represented by the Law of Seven “can be penetrated” by virtue of the Law of Three’s presence “to make connection with what exists outside it.”50 Further, the Enneagram is a symbol of the relation of the cosmic unity to its diversity, for “The apex of the triangle closes the duality of its base making possible the manifold forms of its manifestation in the most diverse triangles, in the same way as the point of the apex of the triangle multiplies itself infinitely in the line of its base.”51 The base of the internal triangle is a “duality” because it is a line connecting two points. Creation is the work of the apex point that reproduces itself at a lower level, and thus the apex represents the Creator, and the lower level the world, especially as the triangle and circle reappear in the top section of Gurdjieff’s “Diagram of Everything Living” as the “Absolute.”52 Orage stated that the Absolute “is a definite being and must not be confused with the concept of infinity.”53 It is not, therefore, projecting foreign religious ideas onto this cosmic scheme to speak of God. Even in Russia, when his teaching was the least overtly religious it ever was, Gurdjieff described the “Megalocosmos” as the Ayocosmos, the “holy cosmos,” or the Megalocosmos, the “great cosmos.”54 These are two of the seven cosmoses that form the universe: • • • • • • •

Protocosmos, the “first cosmos,” the Absolute Ayocosmos, the “Megalocosmos,” all worlds Macrocosmos, the “large cosmos,” the Milky Way Deuterocosmos, the “second cosmos,” the sun and the solar system Mesocosmos, the “middle cosmos,” the earth and the planets Tritocosmos, the “third cosmos,” variously organic life on earth or man Microcosmos, the “small cosmos,” variously the atom or man.55

Abstracting this from the Absolute, through the sun and down to the moon, one has what Gurdjieff called the “Ray of Creation,”56 the trajectory of the creation from God to our own immediate environment. The form of the Ray of Creation is the design on which all worlds, not only our earth, was made.

2.3 Matter and Materiality Pregnant with significance, each level of this Ray of Creation possesses a different materiality. Gurdjieff’s differs from any other spiritual or religious system known to me in that he insists that everything in the universe, even the Absolute, is material. Gurdjieff asserted: “If the Absolute is God it means that God can be weighed and measured, resolved into component elements, “calculated,” and expressed in the form of a definite formula.”57 Speaking of knowledge, he stated: [K]nowledge, like everything else in the world, is material. . . . this means that it possesses all the characteristics of materiality. One of the first characteristics of materiality is that matter is always limited, that is to say, the quantity of matter in a given place and under given conditions is limited.58

Gurdjieff also stated that although matter is the same everywhere, materiality is different, and that the materiality of the Absolute is different from that of the Megalocosmos, and so on.59 He expressed this varying materiality by reference to the size of each “atom” on each level of the Ray of Creation. Gurdjieff defined “atoms” as “small particles of the given matter which are indivisible only on the given plane.”60 He went on to say that, in this scheme, only the atoms of the Absolute were really indivisible. An atom of the next stage, the Megalocosmos, consists of three atoms of the Absolute, of the Macrocosmos of six atoms of the Absolute, and so on, always doubling, until one came to the earth and the moon where each atom comprised forty-eight and ninety-six atoms of the Absolute, respectively. The larger the atom, the bigger, heavier, and slower it is.61 Therefore, the materiality of each stage is denser than that of the one before, giving seven different orders of materiality, with the finer order interpenetrating the denser.62 At first sight, it seems inconsistent that there should be any stages of the Ray of Creation after “All Worlds” or Megalocosmos, for the earth and moon are parts of the Megalocosmos. The paradox disappears when it is realized that the creation of the Megalocosmos was the crystallization of the matter (atoms of weight 3) from which all worlds would be made. From these atoms were crystallized atoms of weight 6, being made up of atoms of weight 1 and 3, all of which co-subsist at that level, so that each stage of the Ray of Creation includes something of earlier worlds, although the further it proceeds, the weaker the influence of the early levels.63 In the first worlds, the substances are so fine that we can conceive neither of them nor of their properties. However, we do know some atoms, and some we do not know but can conceive. Gurdjieff called each of these a “hydrogen” and allocated to each hydrogen a number. The number of these hydrogens, although analogous to those of the “atoms,” should not be confused: They are a different concept, and the numbers given to atoms and hydrogens are not equivalent or interchangeable in any way. Metals and other similar substances form a class known to us; that class is called “Hydrogen 3072” or H3072. Wood and similar substances are H1536, the entire class of substances that serve us as physical food are H768, while thinner substances, which he called “water,” are H384, and H192 is air.64 More rarefied substances exist and play an important role in the Food Diagram, and hence in understanding Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation. All of these hydrogens represent the densification of the atoms of the Ray of Creation. Implicit within the Ray of Creation is a scheme for its maintenance, and implicit within that scheme is an ethic. The design for the maintenance of the universe places certain responsibilities on each person, but with those responsibilities comes an opportunity: “to be worthy . . . by . . . [rendering] aid to our UNIQUE-BURDEN-BEARING-ENDLESSNESS, of becoming a particle, though an independent one, of everything existing in the Great Universe.”65 That is, one can cooperate with God in the maintenance of the cosmos, and so come to merit becoming an independent and conscious part of the creation, as some of the individuals mentioned in Beelzebub have: They lived meritorious lives, they perfected their “souls” (see Section 2.7), and went on to serve the Creator in their “higher-being-bodies.”66 There is no goal of “nirvana” in Gurdjieff.67 It is time now to turn to humanity, and its place in this unfolding creation.

2.4 Gurdjieff’s Anthropology: The Centers Gurdjieff’s cosmology produces his anthropology, psychology, and ethic, for his anthropology is determined by humanity’s place on the planet earth, and that depends on its place in the Ray of Creation. The foundation, for Gurdjieff, is that the human body consists of seven “centers” or brains making one whole organism. Of the seven centers, five are “lower” and two are “higher.” The four lowest—the intellectual, emotional, moving and instinctive centers—are observable. The work of the centers is as follows:

1. The instinctive center deals with that work of the physical organism that does not have to be learned, and so usually does not need the awareness of the other centers. In fact, instinctive functions, such as the pumping of blood, the hormonal system, and the growth of the body and all its parts, often cannot be made conscious at all. Some instinctive functions are amenable to a certain amount of intellectual interference (e.g., the working of the senses, and breathing); others are not (e.g., the working of the liver). The instinctive center also includes those physical emotions associated with the senses (e.g., pleasant and unpleasant smells and tastes) and, also, reflex actions.68 2. Moving center functions are also physical functions, but these must be learned (e.g., walking, speaking, and playing sports). The moving center also includes the body’s memory of actions and postures, for, in Gurdjieff’s system, the intellectual memory is not our only memory. The moving center is also coopted by certain automatic and uncontrolled phenomena such as daydreaming and useless talking. Talking will always have a moving center aspect, and, when it is deliberate, an intellectual component, but when it is mindless and mechanical, it is an activity of the moving center and formatory apparatus (see number 4 in this list).69 3. The feeling center is the brain of emotional life. This life is manifested in emotions such as joy, sorrow, some fear, surprise, suspense, and so on. However, many of the emotions we know are not from the emotional center: These are the negative emotions of hatred, anger, violence, jealousy, envy, and so on. These are effectively growths on the instinctive center. They are formed on analogy with instinctive emotions of foul taste (hence, perhaps, the word “disgusting”).70 Physically, Gurdjieff stated that the feeling center had originally been based in the breast but had been moved and dispersed to chiefly reside in the solar plexus (although, as stated, all centers are in fact found throughout the entire body in Gurdjieff’s theory).71 4. The intellectual center is the seat of our mental or rational faculties: registering that something has happened, reasoning, comparing, measuring, affirming, negating, learning words and formulas, and also forming concepts and ideas. The lowest part of the intellectual center, or “formatory apparatus,” is vital for daily life. It is a sort of card index that registers impressions, so as to connect the impression to the center that is best equipped to deal with it. For example, if we hear of the death of someone we knew well, the feeling center should respond, but if the formatory apparatus itself responds and never makes the proper feeling connection, the response is lacking in genuine emotion.72 The intellect also has higher parts, namely emotional and intellectual parts, which are concerned with a love of knowledge and a facility for discovery and truly original thinking, respectively.73 5. The sex center is in a unique position. It begins operating long before puberty, for everything to do with the development of male and female qualities is the work of this center.74 However, its most dramatic manifestation is in causing puberty and the appearance of the sexual appetite. By the time of puberty, the working of the sex center is already conditioned by the other centers, especially the emotional and the instinctive, and so the sexual appetite is not necessarily pure; it may be mixed with instinctive and emotional needs that are intrinsically extraneous to it.75 The sex center has to do with parenting in three ways: the procreation of children, the psychological and emotive aspects of parenting children, and the “procreation” of the higher-being-bodies.76 The sex center’s relation to the others is also unique. The other centers directly register perceptions; for example, if I bite a plum, the moving and instinctive centers directly and immediately register its taste, its freshness, and its effect on the organism. The sex center, however, receives its impressions through the other centers as it has no organ comparable to skin, nerves, or the senses. Yet, because it uses the most powerful energy usually available to us (Gurdjieff says that the different centers use different fuels or energies), it is able to override all the other centers (which offers an explanation for why sexual motives often override rational ones). So the work of the centers becomes tangled, and the sexual element often acts explosively through other functions when it should be crucially involved in the crystallization of higher-being-bodies.77 Gurdjieff’s pupil Kenneth Walker (1882–1966) was an eminent London urologist. He was, I suggest, influenced by Gurdjieff’s theory of the sex center when he wrote in a medical book he co-authored with E. B. Strauss that sex “in its higher manifestations may be transformed into the creative energy of the artist, the restless curiosity of the scientist or explorer, or the urge of the philanthropist to benefit his fellow-men; it may even be closely linked with the search for the divine and the miraculous in the heart of the monk.”78 6. The other two centers in Gurdjieff’s system are the higher emotional and the higher intellectual centers. Gurdjieff’s concept of the higher centers and the faculties they support is related to his teaching on higher states of consciousness. We shall return to these higher centers when we come to Gurdjieff’s teaching on mysticism in Chapter 3. However, this much should be understood: The higher centers give us access to full consciousness of ourselves and to awareness of objective reality. These are, says Gurdjieff, always working and do not need to be developed. The problem is that our lower centers are not working well, and because of that, they cannot receive the call of the higher centers.79 This concept is elaborated in Section 3.2, in the analogy of a two-story house.

Evolution, for Gurdjieff, can only take place when the lower centers are connected so that they can work together harmoniously. The “sleep” in which we live is seen by Gurdjieff as the disconnection of centers. When in harmony, these centers can operate in unison with the higher centers. The harmonious working of all centers is necessary so that the higher-being-bodies can be perfected. In the background of this teaching of the centers is a well-developed view of most of the centers as divided into two parts (negative and positive) and into three levels (intellectual, feeling, and moving), so that, for example, there is an emotional part of the intellectual center that deals with the love of knowledge. This has a positive side (“yes, that is what I want to know”) and a negative (“no, this does not satisfy”). But there are problems: The centers work at different speeds, and those speeds have to stand in a certain relation so that their work can be calibrated. This is analogous to how the different parts of an engine have to each maintain their proper speed so that the whole can perform its work. Further, in our state of waking-sleep, one center often usurps the proper role of another—for example, “The emotional center working for the thinking center brings unnecessary nervousness, feverishness, and hurry into situations where, on the contrary, calm judgment and deliberation are essential.”80 The harmonious work of centers and the human development they facilitate is, for Gurdjieff, “evolution,” while “involution” is the downward process of creation (i.e., the movement from the Absolute to the earth, man, and the moon). We saw how Gurdjieff said that the original cosmic unity became a plurality when the “prime substance,” “Etherokrilno,” was crystallized to form a cruder matter. The process of an unimaginably subtle substance coalescing by mechanical operation into seven levels of denser substances is “involution.” We might call this “the procession of existence.”

2.5 “Doing” and “Sleep” Involution is the complementary process to evolution. Gurdjieff said: “The evolution of man is the evolution of his power of doing.”81 As the soul and the spirit (the “higher-being-bodies”) are formed, one

can “do” more, because the higher bodies are the vehicle of one permanent and individual will.82 Gurdjieff understands “doing” to mean reaching a “projected aim,”83 for “before anything else ‘doing’ presupposes an aim.”84 The human tragedy is that “In reality a man can do nothing,” but we delude ourselves into imagining that we can, because we consider only those occasions on which circumstances facilitate our plans.85 Yet we have the potential to “do.” To realize this potential, one must “work on oneself”; formulate and actualize a plan. But the general rule in life is quite the opposite of conscious work; it is unconscious reaction, and suffering mechanical tendencies that tend toward disintegration.86 The human situation is marked by several sad conditions that Gurdjieff referred to as being “features of sleep.” Classically, he identified eight of these87: • • • • • • • •

Identification Considering Imagination Daydreaming Negative emotion Lying Unnecessary talking Excessive formatory thinking.

Some of these concepts need explanation. The most important of these is probably identification because, although “identification” is said to be impossible to define (because definition requires limitation, and the effects of identification are practically limitless),88 we are identified, to some degree, whenever our attention is engaged. In its mildest and least most benign form, it is simply seeing and registering a fact. At its most malign, it is having no awareness at all of oneself, because one’s attention is riveted and bound. In 1922, Gurdjieff said: “Identification in work means one-center work; we see only the aspect with which we are identified.”89 Popoff recalls that Ouspensky stated that, in the Philokalia, identification had been clearly known and identified in these terms: Prosbole, or impact, shock Sinousia, or interest, attraction Sundiasmos, or desire Pathos, or mania, the state in which one is altogether lost, as is the case in lunacy.90 This schema is found in the Philokalia, although the terminology varies from writer to writer.91 Because identification is a quality of the attention, and so affects everything we can consciously do, it is quite arguably the foundational feature of sleep. In the Gurdjieff system, conscious control of the attention is critical. A particular form of identification, so important that it is spoken of separately, is “considering.” This has something of its original etymological sense of “sitting with,” for it is losing oneself in being identified with another person. “External considering” is having regard for the good of both another person and oneself; it requires understanding, discretion, and self-control, and so is necessary in order to awaken. “Internal considering” is almost the polar opposite: It is an obsession with what others are thinking about us, and how little they value and respect us.92 Imagination and daydreaming can be taken together. While both involve fantasy, imagination, in the undesirable sense, is an uncontrolled elaboration of fantasy, especially about oneself, and believing oneself to possess qualities that in fact one lacks. “Self-delusion” and “megalomania” are common words for this type of “imagination.” Daydreaming is generally less harmful, being merely runaway associative thoughts.93 Negative emotion is any unnecessary emotion of anger, hatred, depression, boredom, envy, or violence. As Ouspensky said, if the first point in the system is about consciousness, then the second point is that there is not a single necessary reason why we should have negative emotions, and that all of them are harmful. He said of them that: They cannot exist without imagination. Simply suffering pain is not a negative emotion, but when imagination and identification enter, then it becomes negative emotion. Emotional pain, like physical pain, is not negative emotion by itself, but when you begin to make all kinds of embroidery on it, it becomes negative emotion.94

Gurdjieff’s analysis of the other features of sleep is intrinsically interesting. The point is that to be awake in one center only is “hallucination” and in two centers only is “semi-hallucination”; only when all the centers are harmoniously related are we conscious.95 By reason of the design of creation, the process of human evolution must, according to Gurdjieff, be conscious and intentional. Both evolution and involution are possible because the procession of existence follows certain paths that Gurdjieff called “laws.”96 These represent an intelligence in the very nature of the universe. As Gurdjieff said: “The intelligence of the sun is divine.”97 In few individuals are the centers sufficiently well organized and coordinated to be good instruments for the manifestation of intelligence, as opposed to mechanics.

2.6 “Self-Remembering”

Gurdjieff said that, in everything, we should have both an internal and an external aim, and that what is performed in life will not sustain the inner work unless one possesses an inner aim. The internal and external aims thus “must meet and they must help one another.”98 If a person has a “definite aim,” then whatever takes him or her in that “definite direction” is his or her “work.”99 There is perhaps an allusion here to the “great work” or the “Great Doing” of alchemy.100 For Gurdjieff, that work is awakening and developing our embryonic whole into a permanent individual. Ouspensky records Gurdjieff saying: Man has no permanent and unchangeable I. Every thought, every mood, every desire, every sensation, says “I.” And in each case it seems to be taken for granted that this I belongs to the Whole, to the whole man, and that a thought, a desire, an aversion is expressed by this Whole. . . . Man’s every thought and desire appears and lives quite separately and independently of the Whole. And the Whole never expresses itself, for the simple reason that it exists, as such, only physically as a thing, and in the abstract as a concept. Man has no individual I. . . . each time his I is different. Just now it was a thought, now it is a desire, now a sensation, now another thought, and so on, endlessly. Man is a plurality.101

The reference to “a thought . . . a desire . . . a sensation” is to the intellectual, emotional, and moving brains or centers, which are axial in Gurdjieff’s anthropology. The disordered work of these centers comprises our internal disruption.102 I shall be contending that Gurdjieff’s methods were designed to assist conscious integration, and his central of these are the related techniques of “self-observation” and “self-remembering.” To observe oneself, according to Gurdjieff’s directions, is not only to look at oneself mentally, but to experience how one is at the moment, especially paying attention to which center or centers are operating at the time. If one can observe oneself for long enough, then one can be said to be remembering oneself—that is, integrating the parts or members of which we are composed.103 The phrase “self-remembering” is a translation of the Russian pomnie sebya, which, Taylor states, “was meant to combine thought, feeling and bodily activity. My Russian informants say that pomnie sebya implies ‘remember one’s past’.”104 This is confirmed by Ouspensky’s response to someone who asked whether self-remembering would help one remember his or her past: “Yes, it certainly helps. That is the second degree of self-remembering. First degree, you must remember yourself as you are, and second degree, as you are all your life.”105 To “remember” is not just to think of something; it is to “have [it] present to the attention.” It indicates a gentle, nonstraining movement of the whole person. An approximately equivalent phrase in English may be “to come to oneself.” To remember oneself is also to have an attention in which one is simultaneously aware of what one is doing, and the fact that one is conscious of oneself106: If a man . . . tries to remember himself, every impression he receives while remembering himself will, so to speak, be doubled. In an ordinary psychic state I simply look at a street. But if I remember myself, I do not simply look at the street; I feel that I am looking, as though saying to myself: “I am looking.” Instead of one impression of the street there are two impressions, one of the street and another of myself looking at it.107

On October 29, 1943, Gurdjieff explained the same concept from a different angle. Referring to an unnamed exercise, he said: This exercise will help you understand. The exercise will separate you from yourself. You know what man is made of: individuality and functions of the organism. Until now, these two things existed in you as if they were one, one mixed with the other, one disturbing the other. When we separate inner life from outer life, “I” is the inner and “me” is the outer, and it is possible to separate them in a very precise way.108

This is fundamental to Gurdjieff’s practical system: Self-remembering is a separation of individuality from the workings of the human mechanism.109 In addition, self-remembering facilitates, and often sparks, a connection to the higher centers. The harmonious work of all the centers allows one to feel positive emotions, to undertake a course of self-discipline, and to crystallize a “higher-being-body” or “soul” that can survive death.110 In particular, self-remembering provides one with the finer foods that, Gurdjieff said, the evolution of consciousness requires.111

2.7 The Food Factory and Diagram Gurdjieff stated that one of the reasons we cannot “remember ourselves” is that: The human organism represents a chemical factory planned for the possibility of a very large output. But in the ordinary conditions of life the output of this factory never reaches the full production possible to it . . . all its elaborate equipment actually serve no purpose at all, . . . it maintains only with difficulty its own existence.112

The working of the chemical factory was set out in Gurdjieff’s “Food Diagram.” The factory receives three foods: solid nourishment (eatables and drink), air, and impressions (Hydrogens 768, 192, and 48, respectively). Solid food develops reasonably well up to H12—that is, it is refined six times. The food of the air is refined only twice, to the point of H48, but as the human machine works now, the food of impressions is not at all refined, so that overall the highest energy produced is H12.113 Remembering oneself greatly improves the work of the chemical factory, for the foods of air and impressions are further refined. Self-remembering is appropriately called the “first conscious shock.” The second conscious shock, a work on negative emotions, includes acknowledging and transforming them (or the energy they use) into positive emotions, producing even more and finer hydrogens, yielding far more H12 and even some

H6.114 Gurdjieff specifically states of H6 that it “is the highest matter produced by the organism from air, that is, from the second kind of food. This however is obtained only by making a conscious effort at the moment an impression is received.”115 Significantly for the later breathing exercises of the 1930s and afterwards, Gurdjieff continues: Apart from the elements known to our science the air contains a great number of substances unknown to science, indefinable for it and inaccessible to its observation. But exact analysis is possible both of the air inhaled and of the air exhaled. This exact analysis shows that although the air inhaled by different people is exactly the same, the air exhaled is quite different. Let us suppose that the air we breathe is composed of twenty different elements unknown to our science. A certain number of these elements are absorbed by every man when he breathes. Let us suppose that five of these elements are always absorbed. . . . But some people . . . absorb five elements more. These five elements are higher “hydrogens.” . . . By inhaling air we introduce these higher “hydrogens” into ourselves, but if our organism does not know how to extract them out of the particles of the air, and retain them, they are exhaled back into the air. If the organism is able to extract and retain them, they remain in it.116

The Four Ideals Exercise (see Chapter 13) widens still further our understanding of the higher hydrogens Gurdjieff considered to be available as food. This is critical, for a greater quantity of these hydrogens is needed to crystallize the higher-being-bodies, the first of which Gurdjieff called the “astral body” and, in Beelzebub, “the body Kesdjan.”117 According to Bennett, this neologism means “vessel of the soul” in Persian.118 Gurdjieff told Ouspensky: What is called according to one terminology the “astral body” is called in another terminology the “higher emotional center,” although the difference here does not lie in the terminology alone. These are, to speak more correctly, different aspects of the next stage of man’s evolution. It can be said that the “astral body” is necessary for the complete and proper functioning of the “higher emotional center” in unison with the lower. Or it can be said that the “higher emotional center” is necessary for the work of the “astral body.”119

That is, the higher centers are functioning, but until the higher bodies are formed there is no vehicle for them to reliably interact with the lower centers. Gurdjieff’s cosmology integrates his entire scheme: It explains the formation of the astral body, how that depends on the higher emotional center, and how that cannot work in unison with the lower centers while they are disharmonized by a lack of mutual connection between each other, allowing the energy produced by the food factory to be wasted in negative emotions.120 The avoidance of negative emotions and the concomitant cultivation of positive feeling is equivalent to what, in other religious and spiritual traditions, is good and righteous behavior: It is, as it were, the psychological aspect of the ethical commands.

2.8 Conscience The moral compass, according to the Gurdjieff of the Russian years, is the human faculty of conscience, a concept that still plays a leading role in Beelzebub.121 However, a series of commandments suddenly appear in Beelzebub, where, among others, Gurdjieff cites the eighteenth “personal commandment of our COMMON CREATOR . . . ‘Love everything that breathes’.”122 Perhaps the two can be reconciled if there are absolute commandments, but one needs conscience to discern them, and then, in the ordinary conditions of life, when it is not clear how to act, conscience speaks. Gurdjieff said of conscience: In ordinary life the concept “conscience” is taken too simply. As if we had a conscience. Actually the concept “conscience” in the sphere of the emotions is equivalent to the concept “consciousness” in the sphere of the intellect. And as we have no consciousness we have no conscience. . . . Conscience is a state in which a man feels all at once everything that he in general feels, or can feel. And as everyone has within him thousands of contradictory feelings which vary from a deeply hidden realization of his own nothingness and fears of all kinds to the most stupid kind of self-conceit, self-confidence, self-satisfaction, and self-praise, to feel all this together would not only be painful but literally unbearable.123

Finally, this entire scheme of the human food factory is a counterpart, or smaller model, of the cosmic Trogoautoegocrat: “The three-story factory represents the universe in miniature and is constructed according to the same laws and on the same plan as the whole universe.”124 The connection between Gurdjieff’s cosmology and his anthropology can, perhaps, be put like this: • • • •

Matter and energy are not divided in the system: Matter conveys energy, and energy is matter in motion.125 Similarly, energy is the mechanical side of consciousness, and all psychic processes are material.126 Conversely, consciousness is a coin with two sides, the energetic and the mechanical. Therefore, Gurdjieff’s psychology and account of consciousness is inseparably related to his cosmology. When the human being works well, or normally (in accordance with the human norm), both consciousness and conscience are clear and inform us as to reality (consciousness) and our proper attitude in relation to it (conscience).

2.9 Duty and Suffering Gurdjieff said, on December 7, 1941, that “Without prepared suffering there is nothing, for by as much as one is conscious, there is no more suffering.”127 Conscious labor and intentional suffering are our “Being-

Partkdolg-Duty,” a duty owed both by and to one’s being, needed to be able to perceive reality and to “coat” the higher bodies.128 Gurdjieff did indicate that one of his Transformed-contemplation exercises, involving breathing, was a conscious labor.129 Other than this, no definition of “conscious labor” is known to me, but I suggest it comprised acting for an aim while remembering oneself. Intentional suffering was described as the deliberately endured friction between the desires of different impulses: Distinguish between these [suffering and pain]. Suffering is the conflict of centers. Nobody is recommended to incur pain; but it is encouraged to bring about the conscious conflict of centers. Putting oneself in situations where one or even two centers are attracted and two or one are repelled.130

In Beelzebub, Gurdjieff added a religious dimension: [O]nly he, who consciously assists the process of this inner struggle and consciously assists the “non-desires” to predominate over the desires, behaves just in accordance with the essence of our COMMON FATHER CREATOR HIMSELF; whereas he who with his consciousness assists the contrary, only increases HIS sorrow.131

This is related to the struggle between “yes” and “no” that Gurdjieff said was necessary for the formation of higher-being-bodies and the formation of one individual “I” with true willpower.132 My thesis is that Gurdjieff originally intended only to teach methods for conscious labor and intentional suffering, realized in the common domain of life. The addition of contemplative exercises, which he considered to be conscious labors, came later.

2.10 Gurdjieff on Religion and Prayer There is a religiosity about Gurdjieff’s system or, more precisely, the culture that he brought with his books, music, Movements, and even his script.133 Christianity was the greatest influence on his music: He was taught music when he sang in the church choir, and at least one of his pieces had been written by Dean Borsh, his first and beloved teacher.134 The names of Gurdjieff’s hymns are taken from Christianity, while the other music often references Islam with some occasional allusions to Tibet and India.135 Petsche states: “The Gurdjieff/de Hartmann Hymns capture the sounds and ceremonial character of Russian Orthodox hymnody and chant.”136 Gurdjieff had a significant acquaintance with at least some form of Sufism, but, again, writers are prone to guess rather than to establish their assertions with evidence.137 Ouspensky offers clear proof that Gurdjieff possessed a deep understanding of the whirling of the Mehlevi dervishes.138 Gurdjieff used that whirling in his Movements.139 Some of his Movements have titles such as “The Trembling Dervish” and “Dervish Prayer.” Others make reference to Tibet (e.g., “Tibetan Masked Dance”).140 Recently, the Lipseys encountered in Kathmandu a folk dance that was almost identical with one they had been learning as a Gurdjieff Movement, in circumstances where borrowing from Gurdjieff is less likely than that Gurdjieff had seen that dance as he was passing to Tibet and perhaps India.141 The author himself, in about 1998, heard music unmistakably similar to Gurdjieff’s “Camel Step” being played near the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus, but as it was a recording, the possibility of borrowing from Gurdjieff cannot be excluded. It is reasonable, then, to think that Gurdjieff adapted Islamic and Tibetan motifs when designing his Movements.142 While Gurdjieff was born into a Christian family, he treated certain religions as being equal in theoretical value. Gurdjieff distinguished in each religion seven different levels: the religion of Man Number 1 up to Man Number 7. The Christianity, Buddhism, and Judaism of Man 1, 2, and 3 are at roughly the same level, but the religion of Man Number 4 is of a higher order.143 This leads to his view of prayer: As we are, our prayers will be little other than self-consolation, self-suggestion, and selfhypnosis.144 However, if one can pray and concentrate on the meaning of the words, feeling their significance, then the prayer (what he called a “recapitulation”) could have objective effects, because the very thoughts can effect what has been asked of God.145 Maurice Nicoll (1884–1953), a personal pupil of Gurdjieff wrote: Prayer was originally for help to lift one to a higher state of consciousness. The Lord’s Prayer is designed to make a man remember himself, for an entire change of his being, so that help can enter him. The nature of help is, first, to show us where we are wrong. This Work teaches us that there is help, but it only touches a man and makes its presence known when he lifts himself up to it; that is, when he lifts himself up to the third state of consciousness.146

As to the sources of help, Michel Conge (1912–1984), one of Gurdjieff’s French pupils, recalled that Gurdjieff would say to them: “Let angels help you. Let devils help you.” Sometimes he would add: “And between the two may God keep you.”147 By that he meant that good influences can inspire us, and bad influences can warn us that we are in danger, while God is concerned with preserving our being, so that we can be present to both influences, and make conscious decisions. Gurdjieff does not share the view of most religions that God is able to direct all affairs on the earth and in our lives.148 Hence, on January 16, 1944, he said in one of his Paris wartime group meetings:

To have direct contact with God is impossible. Millions and millions of nonentities wish to have relations with Mr. God direct. This is impossible. But you can have a relation in this line. . . . The real God, forget him. As you are, you can never have relations with God. When you have grown, this could be . . . Meantime, take as an ideal whoever is nearest and then you can pray to God, because this person has an ideal also, this ideal has in turn an ideal and so on, on to God. God is far, there are many stages before you reach him.149

Gurdjieff writes of “God” in the apparently deeply personal prologue to Life Is Real, saying: “Only He is everywhere and with Him everything is connected,”150 but then goes on to state that he (and presumably each human) “also have within myself all the possibilities and impossibilities that He has. . . . He is God and I am God!”151 Because of this overturning of accepted ideas and attitudes that were customary in the West, and especially because of the absence of a personal God, Gurdjieff’s system seems more distant from Christianity, and closer to Buddhism, for example, than in fact it is. According to Gurdjieff, there is another way in which religion can help people seeking evolution: that is in the lives of ordinary people, or “householders,” who stand outside the Four Ways.152 However, that is tangential to our study. Although, or perhaps because, he was born into a Christian family, Gurdjieff’s attitude to that faith was not at all straightforward. Apart from his apparently inconsistent attitudes to the Gospels,153 we have noted his malice toward priests.154 His ambiguous relationship with Christianity is illustrated by several matters; first in importance is his approach to Christianity when he approached death. Tchechovitch records that, when Gurdjieff was brought back to the Prieuré after the near-fatal car accident of 1924, Gurdjieff had been resisting their helping him into bed. When Tchechovitch released his pressure on Gurdjieff’s arm, Gurdjieff paused, and barely comprehensibly, these words reached them: “Au nom du Père, du Fils et du Saint-Esprit” (in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost).155 Further, by his final years, he was regularly attending the Russian Orthodox Cathedral “pour y assister au service religieux” (to assist at the religious service) in Rue Daru, especially at Easter and Christmas: matters vouched for by François Grunwald, who would sometimes drive him there.156 Significantly, “when [Gurdjieff] finally accepted that he must be taken to the hospital, it was with the condition that first they would drive him to the front of the Russian church on the Rue Daru . . . It was said that he sat there silently for almost an hour.”157 De Hartmann recalled that, for Gurdjieff, Easter was “very, very heavy, important, and joyful.”158 Olga de Hartmann (1885–1979) relates that once, at the Prieuré, she was “filled with such a feeling of the beauty of Nature and with such happiness that I lifted my arm high in the air.” Gurdjieff advised her to understand what she was doing, for: “This is the gesture of a priest before making Holy Communion, to bring the higher forces down. The priests have now surely forgotten what this gesture means and perform it quite mechanically, but it is really a gesture that can bring higher forces down, because our fingers are a kind of antenna.”159 That is, there is meaning, and even reality, in the Christian liturgy, but the priests are blind to it. Other anecdotes indicate that Christianity bore significance for him; for instance, in his room at the Prieuré were two large pictures, one of Christ and the other of the Buddha.160 Gurdjieff visited Mont St. Michel with Munson and his wife: He insisted that there was a floor, which he referred to as a “foundation,” beneath those that were open, but the guide denied that there was any such floor. “They do not know,” said Gurdjieff.161 When he made an emotional farewell to Kathryn Hulme in 1937, he traced “a small cross” on her forehead, only shortly after he had been abusing Jesus in offensive terms.162 Yet, at the Prieuré, Gurdjieff would sometimes launch into diatribes about religion, and people were apparently forbidden to attend Mass, although de Stjernvall’s mother took him each Sunday.163 As I have stated, I doubt that Gurdjieff was speaking exclusively when he said “if you like, this is esoteric Christianity” (see Section 0.1). Yet, Robin Amis states that just before his death, Gurdjieff told his followers to make contact with the tradition on Mount Athos. I have been informed, in confidence, that this is true. So solemn was this advice that de Salzmann was one of the party; however, being female, she was not allowed to enter.164 Although Gurdjieff never set out his ideas on God exhaustively and systematically, his statements were coherent. We have seen the God-figure in Beelzebub’s Tales. Further, Gurdjieff told Orage that his whim was “to live and teach so that there should be a new conception of God in the world, a change in the very meaning of the word.”165 I suggest that the clue to understanding this “whimsical” idea and its relation to his system is that, as he said to Maurice Nicoll, “Behind real I lies God.”166 The journey to real I is the first stage of the journey to God, and to speak of the final stages before one has completed the first stage, or even has any idea that it is necessary, is to risk substituting sentimental fancies for reality. Gurdjieff was presenting God, but not as generally conceived. So, too, Gurdjieff presented man (the human being), but not as generally conceived. “Man,” for Gurdjieff, is “a failing experiment.”167 Both God and the individual human are constrained by the Ray of Creation and the laws of creation, involution, and evolution, which God put into place. In Gurdjieff’s system, the cosmos is made up of different levels, and these set the rules for all on that level, God and humanity alike. The difference between Gurdjieff’s system and others was expressed thus by Ouspensky: Other systems are concerned with knowledge or conduct. They assume that, such as we are, we can know more or behave differently. In religious systems “faith” and “conduct” are generally regarded as being voluntary. One can be good or bad . . . But this system has the idea of different levels of being. On our present level of being there is one knowledge, one conduct, one faith, all determined by being. . . . You begin to study yourselves: you realize that you are machines but that you can become conscious.168

When he began teaching in Russia, Gurdjieff spoke not of God but of “the Absolute,” which he presented as a philosophical concept. However, already in the Constantinople Notes of Boris Ferapontoff, it was said that “Perhaps when we begin to see ourselves the Absolute too begins to see us.”169 This shows the ineluctable development in Gurdjieff’s system from an abstract Absolute to God. In his major book, Beelzebub’s Tales, Gurdjieff started to make the concept less abstract by referring to the God-figure as “His Endless Creator” and similar phrases. The “Endlessness” of Beelzebub receives delegations and makes decisions. He acts like a person, but no speech of his is ever reported. In Beelzebub, and in Life Is Real, Gurdjieff speaks of “divine impulses.” By the 1930s and through to the end of his life, Gurdjieff is recorded as speaking of “God.”170 While the expression of Gurdjieff’s concept of God varied, there was an underlying and abiding consistency. This supports my thesis that Gurdjieff is best understood as a mystic. Being a mystic, he never shows the least interest in philosophical arguments for the existence of God; rather, his approach to this question is practical, at least from the spiritual perspective. Nicoll states: The idea that man is a self-developing organism means that he cannot develop under compulsion. To see God in the flesh would mean man being compelled to believe by the evidence of his senses, but man cannot develop in this way at all. He can only develop through understanding.171

Forswearing philosophical argumentation, and concerned that the intellect’s formatory apparatus exceeds its proper sphere and disdains what it cannot label, the evidence shows that Gurdjieff committed the spirit, as it were, of his teaching, its aspirations and ideals, not to literature so much as to his music, his Movements and Sacred Dances, and, I shall contend, the exercises of his “Transformed-contemplation.”

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78.

Gurdjieff (2014) 147. Ouspensky (1951) 118–119. For the ways, see Ouspensky (1949) 44–51. Ferapontoff (2017) 68. Ouspensky (1957) 97. For Gurdjieff’s own sense of failure, see Gurdjieff (1975) 31–33, 43–48. Bennett (1962) 85–98. Ouspensky (1949) 49. Bennett (1962) 216. Oral communication. It was almost certainly the site mentioned in Bennett (1962) 204. Gurdjieff (1975) 4. Gurdjieff (1933) 7. Ouspensky (1949) 76. Orage (2013) 57. Ouspensky (1949) 206. Orage (2013) 142. 147 and 98. Gurdjieff and the Women of the Rope, 17. The classic statement of this is in Ouspensky (1949) 40–44. Gurdjieff (1950) 386. For example, Gurdjieff (2009) 4. Gurdjieff (1950) 748–749. Gurdjieff (1950) 748–749. Gurdjieff (1950) 749. Gurdjieff (1950) 749. Gurdjieff (1950) 750. Gurdjieff (1950) 750. Gurdjieff (1950) 750. Gurdjieff (1950) 750. Ouspensky (1949) 124. Ouspensky (1949) 125. Ouspensky (1949) 126. Ouspensky (1949) 126–129. Ouspensky (1949) 129. Gurdjieff (1950) 753–754. Gurdjieff (1950) 138–139. Gurdjieff (1950) 753–755. Gurdjieff (1950) 757. Gurdjieff (1950)756. Gurdjieff (2014) 301 and 365 where he says that God the Word is the world, and that God is always sending the Father and the Son, but he once sent the Holy Ghost. This must have been for the creation. His settled terminology identified the “Word God” with the emanations of the Sun Absolute: Gurdjieff (1950) 760. Gurdjieff (1950) 753. Bennett (1977) 75. Ouspensky (1949) 322–324. Ouspensky (1949) 288. Ouspensky (1957) 213. Orage (2013) 78. Gurdjieff (1950) 823 and 826, compare Ouspensky (1949) 122–123. Ouspensky (1949) 122. Ouspensky (1949) 288 and 290. Ouspensky (1949) 290. Ouspensky (1949) 288. Ouspensky (1949) 323. Orage (2016) 21. Ouspensky (1949) 205. Ouspensky (1949) 205–216. Ouspensky (1949) 82–86 and 205. Ouspensky (1949) 86. Ouspensky (1949) 37. Ouspensky (1949) 86. Ouspensky (1949) 87. Ouspensky (1949) 87. Ouspensky (1949) 87–88. Ouspensky (1949) 88–89. Ouspensky (1949) 170–176. Gurdjieff (1950) 183. Gurdjieff (1950) 804–805; and see also 54 and 347, where Ashiata Shiemash lives on earth and afterwards returns to the Sun Absolute where he is a “Sacred Individual.” Although it is difficult if not impossible to conceptualize what is (and was) meant by Nirvana in various forms of Buddhism, that very difficulty is a point of difference from Gurdjieff’s concept. For some Buddhist concepts, see Williams (2009) 75–76. Ouspensky (1950) 26–27. Ouspensky (1950) 27–28 Ouspensky (1950) 25–26, and 83–90. Gurdjieff (1950) 779–780 and (2009) 182. Ouspensky (1950) 25 and 109. Ouspensky (1950) 109–110 and Vaysse (1979) 82. Ouspensky (1950) 23. Ouspensky (1950) 25 and Ouspensky (1949) 255–259. Bennett (1981) passim is relevant to this discussion of sex. Ouspensky (1949) 255–259; Vaysse (1979) 88–89; and de Salzmann (2010) 182. Phillpotts (2009) 107–113. Walker and Strauss (1954) 1.

79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105. 106. 107. 108. 109. 110. 111. 112. 113. 114. 115. 116. 117. 118. 119. 120. 121. 122. 123. 124. 125. 126. 127. 128. 129. 130. 131. 132. 133. 134. 135. 136. 137. 138. 139. 140. 141. 142. 143. 144. 145. 146. 147. 148. 149. 150. 151. 152. 153. 154. 155. 156. 157.

Ouspensky (1949) 194–195. Ouspensky (1949) 109–110, see also 236, 257–259 and 388. The fullest discussion of the centers is in Ouspensky (1950) 23– 29, 73–91 and 107–114. Ouspensky (1949) 58 Ouspensky (1949), 42. Ouspensky (1949) 132–133. Ouspensky (1949) 99. 132. Gurdjieff (1950) 1230, where the “drop of water” that represents man has the “possibility to evolve, as it is, to the next higher concentration.” Adie and Azize (2015) 248–249. Ouspensky (1952) 61; even Gurdjieff gave only examples: Ouspensky (1949) 150. Gurdjieff (2014) 147. Popoff (1969) 20. Palmer, Sherrard, and Ware (1995) 435–436. Ouspensky (1949) 151–154. Ouspensky (1949) 111 and 165 Ouspensky (1952) 21. Gurdjieff (2014) 364 and 388. Ouspensky (1949) 281–282, 305–311. Ouspensky (1949) 25. Lannes (2002) 14. Ouspensky (1949) 111. Ouspensky (1949) 284. In Search of the Miraculous is replete with references to alchemy. Ouspensky (1949) 59. Ouspensky (1949) 109–111 and 196. Ouspensky (1952) 53. Taylor (2007) 170. Ouspensky (1951) 229. Ouspensky (1949) 118–119. Ouspensky (1949) 188. Gurdjieff (2017) 246. On October 21, 1943, Gurdjieff had related the struggle to separate body from individuality to the production of higher substances needed for evolution: Gurdjieff (2017) 228. When one can date Gurdjieff’s observations, it often appears that a certain line of thought or means of expression was more prominent at one time than at another. Ouspensky (1949) 31–33, 40–44, 54, 91–94, 180–193. This process also serves a cosmic aim: Gurdjieff speaks of the transformation of the air as being “help for the moon” and that of impressions as being “help for God” (1950) 783. Ouspensky (1949) 179. Ouspensky (1949) 180–187. Ouspensky (1949) 187–192. Ouspensky (1949) 188. Ouspensky (1949) 189. Ouspensky (1949) 192–193. Bennett (1973) 244 and 275. An expert in Persian told me that while “vessel of the soul” is not a literal translation of the Persian “Kesdjan,” it is a fair one. Ouspensky (1949) 197. Ouspensky (1949) 198. “Conscience” occupies over two pages in the second edition of the Guide and Index to the book: Welch (2003) 81–82. Gurdjieff (1950) 198. Ouspensky (1949) 155. Ouspensky (1949) 191. Ouspensky (1951) 475 and 225. Ouspensky (1952) 180 and (1949) 198. Gurdjieff (2009) 4. Gurdjieff (1950) 104, 145, 409, 437–438, and 440. Gurdjieff (2014) 413. Orage (2013) 337. Gurdjieff (1950) 373. Ouspensky (1949) 42–44. Lipsey (2019) 88–91. The material is collected in Petsche (2015) 44–45 and 124–131. See the list of titles in Petsche (2015) 244–251. Petsche (2015) 126. Sedgwick (2016) 181. Ouspensky (1949) 382–383. Nott (1961) 114 and van Dullemen (2014) 49. Blom (2006) 214–215. Lipsey (2019) 40. The Stop Exercise may also be from Central Asia: Ouspensky (1949) 355. Blake notes an affinity between Gurdjieff’s idea of triads and the Samkhya doctrine of the gunas: Blake (2015) 22–25. See also van Dullemen (2014) 184. Ouspensky (1949) 74–75 Ouspensky (1949) 300. Ouspensky (1949) 300–302. Nicoll (1998) 16–17. Conge (2007) 128. Ouspensky (1949) 94–95. Gurdjieff (2009) 113. Gurdjieff (1975) 22. Gurdjieff (1975) 22–23. Ouspensky (1949) 362–365. Compare Ouspensky (1949) 97 with 217. de Stjernvall (2013) 19–20, cited in Section 1.1. Tchechovitch (2003) 25, Tchekhovitch (2006) 143. Grunwald (2017) 534. “To assist at the religious services” has no overtone of actually participating in the delivery of the service; the phrase means to assist by one’s presence. Howarth and Howarth (1998) 380.

158. 159. 160. 161. 162. 163. 164. 165. 166. 167. 168. 169. 170. 171.

Petsche (2015) 127. De Hartmann (1992) 249. Tchechovitch (2003) 25, Tchekhovitch (2006) 142. Munson (1985) 270–271. Hulme (1997) 120–121. De Stjernvall (2013) 16 and 18. Amis (1995) 348. I am also told, by someone who travelled to Mount Athos, that a monk told him that Amis learned that Gurdjieff had been granted access to the splendid library of the Skete of St. Andrew before it was destroyed by fire: email communication of August 9, 2018. Mairet (1966) 105. Nicoll (1997) 14. Nicoll (1997) 202. Ouspensky (1957) 49. Ferapontoff (2017) 130. See especially Chapters 9 and 11, and the many references there. Nicoll (1998) 33. This is entirely true to Gurdjieff’s principles, and may have come from him, for this is what Gurdjieff was teaching in a parable recorded in Tchechovitch (2005) 38–40.

3 Gurdjieff and the Mystical Tradition

3.1 Introduction Although mysticism has been much studied, so far as my research discloses, there is no book-length global history and survey of meditation and contemplation. Halvor Eifring has recently edited and contributed to two volumes: Meditation in Judaism, Christianity and Islam1 and Hindu, Buddhist and Daoist Meditation.2 The various articles provide material, much of it quite specific, but an even and overall survey is lacking. A modest but pioneering effort is an article by Trompf, which explicitly restricts its main scope to the West.3 The idea of a world survey raises many questions: What definitions can be universally applied? Can terms and concepts, even terms such as “meditation” and “contemplation,” be univocally applied to various practices in different cultures? For example, Samuel warns that indigenous terms for “yoga,” “Tantra,” and “meditation” vary “and do not correspond neatly to modern Western uses of these terms.”4 Then, perhaps even more basically, how does one study such phenomena? Is it possible to meaningfully study such disciplines from outside, as it were, or must one participate? And whichever approach is taken, must not modern scientific studies of meditation and contemplation be included? The task is vast. The author is minded to one day bite the bullet, as it were, and attempt some such wide-ranging survey. The purpose of this book, however, is to introduce Gurdjieff’s inner exercises, what can be called his contemplation-like techniques, to a wider world. Since this is the introductory study, I attempt to place them within the context of Gurdjieff’s system of ideas and methods, and within that context alone.

3.2 Gurdjieff on Mysticism What was Gurdjieff’s relationship to mysticism? We briefly examined the essentialist/contextualist debate in the introduction and saw that the two sides of the debate can, arguably, be taken as complementary rather than as completely inimical. The view adumbrated by Gurdjieff explains mystical experience quite differently from that of any other theory I am aware of, for he does so by reference to the human faculties involved more than by reference to the object of the experience, although that is included. Gurdjieff says that we have lower faculties or centers (those we mentioned in Section 2.4), plus two “higher centers,” the “higher emotional” and “higher intellectual” centers, which are functioning, but are not connected with the lower centers, with the result that with our ordinary mind and feelings we are invariably unaware of the existence and operation of these centers. Gurdjieff explicitly agrees with what he calls “mystical and occult systems” that higher forces that possess extraordinary capacities are available to us. He distinguishes his system from the others because he teaches that the higher centers are fully developed but the lower centers are disharmonized and undeveloped, and so cannot come into contact with the higher centers.5 It is as if we lived without electricity on the ground floor of a two-story house, while on the second floor, there is a full library of classics and a laboratory with working equipment and telescopes, and the electricity and the internet are connected. Sadly, the stairs that connect the two floors are in disrepair, so their purpose is unknown to the inhabitants of the ground floor. Even the existence of the upper floor is the stuff of legend. Although most people, Gurdjieff said, never experience connection with the higher centers, exceptions occur, namely in what we call “mystical experiences.” Gurdjieff averred that on occasions: a temporary connection with the higher emotional center takes place and man experiences new emotions, new impressions hitherto completely unknown to him, for the description of which he has neither words nor expressions. But in ordinary conditions the difference between the speed of our usual emotions and the speed of the higher emotional center is so great that no connection can take place and we fail to hear within us the voices which are speaking and calling to us from the higher emotional center. The higher intellectual center . . . is still further removed from us, still less accessible. Connection with it is possible only through the higher emotional center. It is only from descriptions of mystical experiences, ecstatic states, and so on, that we know cases of such connections. These states can occur on the basis of religious emotions, or, for short moments, through particular narcotics; or in certain pathological states such as epileptic fits or accidental traumatic injuries.6

On this view, genuine mystical experiences are flashes of the state of “objective consciousness.”7 According to Gurdjieff, we can know four broad states of consciousness: sleep, waking consciousness, selfconsciousness, and objective consciousness. The first two are those with which we are most familiar. Only the lower centers and the sex center are needed to maintain the states of sleep and waking consciousness. The third state, self-consciousness, is the state of self-remembering.8 The third state (clear awareness of my reality) and the fourth (clear awareness of reality as a whole) mean connection with the higher centers. The third state of consciousness is one in which impressions are received from the higher emotional center, while the fourth state (objective consciousness), the state of mystical experience, is one

where the higher intellectual center operates.9 If one is not in the third state (self-remembering), then when the connection with the higher intellectual center opens, the ordinary mind is unable to cope with the flood of new impressions. Our memory can retain only the start and the end of the “flood”; hence, mystical experience is often marked by unconsciousness or fragmented consciousness (often causing swooning).10 Even should people be able to retain something of their experience of this exalted state, “the thinking, the moving, and the emotional centers remember and transmit everything in their own way, translate absolutely new and never previously experienced sensations into the language of usual everyday sensations, transmit in worldly three-dimensional forms things which pass completely beyond the limits of worldly measurements.”11 That is, the ordinary mind trying to understand the operation of the higher intellectual center is rather like a child attending a university lecture and trying to explain it to other children. As we shall see, Gurdjieff’s exercises, and most especially his Preparation, can be plausibly seen as methods to develop the lower human faculties, bring them into harmony, and align them to the higher centers, thus making possible self-consciousness, and then objective consciousness. This last state is the proper state of the mystical experience, and hence Gurdjieff’s system can be interpreted as a method to achieve the mystic experience in such a way that it can, as needed, be remembered and productively influence ordinary life. Here I shall examine Gurdjieff’s relationship with two mystical teachings: Neoplatonism and the Athonite “Prayer of the Heart.” I shall contend that, between Gurdjieff’s teaching and Neoplatonism, there are affinities and some literary dependence. Further, Gurdjieff actually adapted the Athonite tradition for his contemplative exercises. That both of these traditions are Greek is not accidental: Gurdjieff identified as a Greek, and considered Greek to be his mother tongue.12

3.3 Gurdjieff and Neoplatonism So far as I am aware, Gurdjieff makes no direct allusions to either Plotinus or Iamblichus, but I suggest that Gurdjieff’s teaching displays significant affinities with that of Plotinus, and even more striking resemblances to certain passages in Iamblichus. These latter similarities are such as to make it unlikely that Gurdjieff had not read the passages concerned, whether at first or second hand. His ability to read Greek makes Gurdjieff’s hypothesized debt to Plotinus more plausible. But the dissimilarities between Gurdjieff and these writers are also significant, maybe even more important than what they have in common, and make it impossible to accept Gurdjieff as a Neoplatonist, even a contemporary Neoplatonist. The similarity between Plotinus and Gurdjieff that I contend for is this: In both systems the higher faculties are eternally in communication with objective reality, although we are rarely conscious of this. Plotinus’s philosophy has been extensively studied,13 and there is a consensus that for him, reality is hierarchical. At the head of his cosmic order is “the One beyond being” (to epekeina ontos to hen); then “Being” and “Intellect” (to on kai nous); and third, “the nature of Soul” (hē tēs psukhēs phusis). These three levels are separate from that of the sensible world.14 In Plotinus, the soul possesses both lower and higher faculties.15 The higher parts are in constant contemplation of the world of forms. However, he states, we are ordinarily unaware of this, because there is a disruption between the two parts of the soul. This is explained in the early treatise Ennead 4.8, “The Descent of the Soul into Bodies,” where at 4.8.8, Plotinus states: our soul (psukhē) does not altogether come down, but there is always something of it in the intelligible; but if the part which is in the world of sense-perception gets control, or rather if it is itself brought under control, and thrown into confusion [by the body], it prevents us from perceiving the things which the upper part of the soul contemplates.

A complementary reason for our obliviousness of the activity of the higher parts of the soul is offered in 4.3, “On Difficulties about the Soul: I,” where Plotinus states that the “image-making power” (to phantastikon) does not receive the impression of the ceaseless activity of the nous, because it is occupied (perhaps “preoccupied”) with the receipt of perceptions.16 Then, in Ennead 2.9.2, “Against the Gnostics,” he states: there is one intellect (hena nous), unchangeably the same, without any sort of decline, imitating the Father as far as is possible to it: and that one part of our soul is always directed to the intelligible realities, one to the things of this world, and one is in the middle between these; for since the soul is one nature in many powers, sometimes the whole of it is carried along with the best of itself and of real being (tou ontos), sometimes the worst part is dragged down and drags the middle with it; for it is not lawful for it to drag down the whole.17

That is, even when we are most engrossed, as it were, the highest part of the soul is not demeaned. In 2.9.3 Plotinus reiterates this, saying that the higher part of the soul is “always illuminated and continually holds the light.” In “On Difficulties about the Soul: I,” 4.3.12, Plotinus writes: “The souls of men see their images as if in the mirror of Dionysus . . . but even these are not cut off from their own principle and from intellect (arkhēs te kai nou). For . . . their heads are firmly set above in heaven.” Plotinus summed up the philosopher’s task in his final words: “Endeavour to lead the divine in you back to the divine in the all.”18 This pithy phrase expresses the essence of Plotinus’s theory and of his practice. A similar aspiration can be found in Iamblichus’s On the Pythagorean Life, where at the climax of his account, he writes:

Much more wonderful than these, however, were what they established about partnership in divine goods, and about unity of intellect and the divine soul. For they often encouraged one another not to disperse the god within themselves. At any rate, all their zeal for friendship, both in words and deeds, aimed at some kind of mingling (theokrasia) and union with God, and at communion with intellect and the divine soul.19

This theokrasia was not solely a work for the philosopher’s study, and here we also touch on a general parallel with Gurdjieff. Porphyry, the student of Plotinus who edited his writings, states: “He (Plotinus) was present at once to himself and to others (sunēn oun kai heautōi hama kai tois allois) and he never relaxed his self-turned attention except in sleep,” being continually turned “in contemplation of the intellect.”20 This, I would suggest, portrays the sage overcoming the disruption of higher and lower parts of the soul. This conscious activity grounds the mystic range of experiences. The analogy with Gurdjieff, his theory of higher and lower centers, and his injunction to “remember yourself” is apparent. These are only general similarities, but they are, I suggest, significant as showing general affinities between Gurdjieff’s system and that of Neoplatonism, and hence aid us in placing Gurdjieff within the mystical tradition. However, there is borrowing from Neoplatonism in two areas: the story of Pythagoras and the solar theology. A possible third borrowing, an adaptation of the “daily review” exercise, is dealt with in Chapter 5. Iamblichus, in On the Pythagorean Life, wrote that when Pythagoras had been studying in Egypt, he was captured by Cambyses’s soldiers and taken to Babylon where he studied with the magi, learning about their rites, worship, and mathematical sciences.21 Gurdjieff writes in Beelzebub that Pythagoras was one of the “learned beings” who was forcibly gathered in Babylon by a Persian king. This unnamed king had scoured his empire for learned beings who might be able to transmute metals into gold, even waging war on Egypt to seize their savants. In Babylon, these “learned beings” studied together, Pythagoras among them.22 The likeness here is so striking that independent invention is not plausible. Given that Gurdjieff must have read a relatively obscure writer like Iamblichus, or some other source that had, it is plausible that Gurdjieff had read the better-known Plotinus and Julian. The relevant quotation from Julian’s Hymn to King Helios refers to the Phoenician theology of Iamblichus: For the opinion of the Phoenicians—(who are) wise and possessed of knowledge in respect of divine matters—stated that the sunlight (which is) sent forth everywhere is the immaculate action of pure mind (nous) itself.23

Compare this passage from Gurdjieff’s Beelzebub: Finally, that part of the being-blood . . . which (part) serves the highest part of the being called the soul, is formed from the direct emanations of our Most Holy Sun Absolute.24

The similarity to Julian is striking. There is a pertinent passage in Plotinus. In Ennead 4.3.11, “On Difficulties about the Soul: I,” he writes: (the) sun in the divine realm is Intellect (nous) . . . and next after it is soul (psukhē), dependent upon it and abiding while Intellect abides. This soul gives the edge of itself which borders on this [visible] sun to this sun, and makes a connection of it to the divine realm through the medium of itself, and acts as interpreter of what comes from this sun to the intelligible sun and from the intelligible sun to this sun.

That is, the material and the spiritual realms are linked through the medium of the soul. In both passages the sun is progenitor of a spiritual faculty: the Neoplatonic nous and, for Gurdjieff, that part of the blood that “serves the soul.” My only hesitation in advancing this is that Gurdjieff’s theory of the soul forms a coherent unity, as does that of Iamblichus, and on no other point whatever can I find any similarity. Rather, there are tremendous differences between Gurdjieff and Neoplatonism, not least the later Neoplatonic stress on theurgia. There is nothing in Neoplatonism approximating to the ten key Gurdjieff doctrines that: 1. Our waking lives are almost always spent in a state of hypnotic sleep, but two higher states of consciousness are possible for us. 2. We do not have the one controlling “I” that we should, and so have little will power. 3. Our knowledge and ability to do depends on our being. 4. We have seven centers or brains (with analysis of the centers, especially the formatory apparatus and the distinction between moving and instinctive centers). 5. There is no center for negative emotions, which are a sort of disease. 6. God created the universe because heaven was deteriorating through the action of time. 7. We are part of a process of reciprocal feeding (the Trogoautoegocrat). 8. The universe is chiefly governed by the Laws of Three and Seven (which were altered at the time of the creation of the present universe). 9. The soul is not necessarily immortal but can be coated in this life through the “alchemical laboratory” that is man. 10. It is necessary to actualize what he called “Being-Partkdolg-Duty” by means of “conscious labor and intentional suffering.”

Touching point 4, two of the distinctive aspects of Gurdjieff’s teaching of the centers or brains are that he recognizes a difference between moving and instinctive centers, and posits a brain for sexual activity, which he understood to include both procreation without (the birth of children) and within (the crystallization of the soul), as to which see Section 2.4. Although many teachings attach significance to the number 7 as marking a special point in a process, I am unaware of any that approaches Gurdjieff’s teaching of the three vulnerable points in the line of development. Further, the relation of the Laws of Three and Seven, depicted in the Enneagram, is also, despite some assertions to the contrary in popular literature, not found elsewhere than in Gurdjieff. Then, if one approaches the question of similarity from the other direction, the number of Neoplatonic ideas not found in Gurdjieff is striking. Plotinus’s speculations about the virtues and number in Enneads

1.2 and 6.6 respectively, while well within the Hellenic tradition, are utterly foreign to Gurdjieff, who never speaks of virtue and the virtues, but only of conscience. Plotinus’s concern to allow the soul to leave the body naturally (Ennead 1.9) would have been wishful thinking to Gurdjieff, who was more concerned that people actually develop souls. If one extends one’s view to the world of Porphyry, Iamblichus, and Proclus, the differences appear even greater. So, there is reason to think that Gurdjieff knew of Neoplatonism, and had an affinity to it: He made some literary use of it, their common idea of the sun being associated with the intellect is striking, and their analysis of higher and lower faculties is similar but not identical. Perhaps there is enough of a similarity to place them both within the mainstream mystical tradition. Indeed, if the Neoplatonists could be integrated into the Christian tradition through the Pseudo-Dionysius, there is no reason that elements of Gurdjieff’s system could not also be so treated. But the harder question is whether Gurdjieff’s system is indebted to Christianity.

3.4 Gurdjieff, Mount Athos, the Philokalia, and The Way of a Pilgrim The situation is very different with the Orthodox hesychast tradition of Mount Athos. In what may be either a reference to the importance of the Mountain to him, or merely a chance reference, Gurdjieff states of the scene of his grandmother’s death: I then had only a logical supposition that it was perhaps only because the room in which this sacred scene occurred, which was to have tremendous significance for the whole of my further life, was permeated through and through with the scent of a special incense brought from the monastery of “Old Athos.”25

This is one isolated reference, but as we shall see in the next chapter, Gurdjieff attributed the “Ego” spiritual exercise to the monks of Mount Athos. Further, in Herald of Coming Good, he states that the “strong spiritual tribulation caused by the death of an intimate friend” was a major stage in the development of his “irrepressible striving” for his search, when it made contact with his “cogitativelaura.”26 The use of this last word, a phonetic variant of “lavra,” is striking, but Gurdjieff’s meaning is obscure. Mount Athos, actually a mountainous peninsula, had long been home to hermits, but with the foundation of the Great Lavra (a monastery complex with separate accommodation for the monks) in 963/4 by St. Athanasius (c. 925/30–c.1001), the area became a center of Orthodox monasticism and the associated eremitic life.27 Mount Athos became the center of a movement based around the Prayer of the Heart (best known in the simplified version called the “Jesus Prayer”) and the associated vision of divine light, known as “Hesychasm.” Krausmüller states that “the so-called hesychastic method (comprised) a set of psychophysical techniques whose raison d’être it was to rid the mind of all distracting thoughts and to induce visions of God as light.”28 There is no evidence that Athanasius knew the Prayer of the Heart, but then, he says little about inner prayer, so this is not conclusive that the Prayer was unknown on Athos in the tenth century, as it can be traced back to the fourth century.29 Hausherr discusses in some detail the question of whether the injunction to “pray always” meant to pray but not to engage in any other activity. While some of Hausherr’s ideas, such as his attribution of the Book of Degrees or Liber Graduum to the Messalians, have been superseded,30 he is correct to conclude that the earliest of the Desert Fathers believed that while there were times to devote oneself uniquely to prayer, yet it could and even should be undertaken while engaged in other occupations, with spiritual reading or manual labor.31 For example, Abba Lucius showed some Euchites (devotees of the “prayer alone” school) how to work at basket-weaving while repeating some verses from Psalm 50.32 Ware refers to this, and collects some other prayer formulations that were used in those early days of monasticism.33 So the idea that a contemplative prayer could be used in the common domain of life, to suffuse that life with the spirit of the secluded prayer, is ancient in the monastic tradition. Hausherr refers to these two types of prayer as “explicit” and “implicit,”34 but I shall not adopt that terminology in treating of Gurdjieff, for there is also significant discontinuity between Gurdjieff and monasticism. The Athonite hesychast tradition of the Prayer was collected in the Philokalia. This was compiled by Macarius of Corinth (1731–1805) and Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain (?1748–1809) and was published in Venice in 1782.35 That Greek version was translated into Slavonic under the title Dobrotolubiye, by the monk Paissy Velichkovsky (d. 1794), who had visited Mount Athos.36 Eugenie Kadloubovsky and G. E. H. Palmer, the translators of a selection from the Dobrotolubiye titled Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart, state: This translation [that of Velichkovsky] had a fundamental importance for the rebirth of monasticism and the practice of the Jesus Prayer in Russian from the beginning of the nineteenth century. Later, the “Philokalia” was translated into Russian by Bishop Theophan the Recluse (d. 1894), from whose text this Russian translation has been made.37

So, the Philokalia had been at the center of a revival in Russian Orthodox spirituality in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Key passages from it, together with the Jesus Prayer, were set out in The Way of a Pilgrim. Also receiving notice in Russia at this time were the writings of Nil Sorsky, perhaps the foremost of the Russian Hesychasts. Sorsky died in 1508, but his writings had been influential on Velichkovsky, and had been republished in St. Petersburg in 1912.38 The Prayer of the Heart, especially but not only in the simplified form of the Jesus Prayer, feature prominently in Sorsky’s Monastic Rule.39

For our purposes, the most significant text from the Philokalia is that of Nicephorus the Solitary, A Most Profitable Discourse on Sobriety and the Guarding of the Heart, as published in Writing from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart,40 and, under the name of Nikephoros the Monk, On Watchfulness and the Guarding of the Heart, in The Philokalia: The Complete Text: Volume IV.41 First, I shall set out some relevant passages from the text, using the earlier translation, which was made from the Russian, whereas the second was made from the Greek. Nicephorus wrote: Attention is a sign of sincere repentance. Attention is the appeal of the soul to itself, hatred of the world and ascent towards God. . . . Attention is the beginning of contemplation, or rather its necessary condition; for, through attention, God comes close and reveals himself to the mind. . . . Attention means cutting off thoughts, it is the abode of the remembrance of God . . . Therefore attention is the origin of faith, hope and love.42

This is significant because attention was central to Gurdjieff’s transformed-contemplation, and as we shall see, Gurdjieff placed importance on the concepts of faith, hope, and love, which he considered to be universal impulses. Nicephorus advises the addressee to seek a teacher, but if no teacher can be found, to call on God and to practice as follows: You know that our breathing is the inhaling and exhaling of air. The organ which serves for this is the lungs which lie round the heart, so that the air passing through them thereby envelops the heart. Thus breathing is a natural way to the heart. And so, having collected your mind within you, lead it into the channel of breathing through which air reaches the heart and, together with this inhaled air, force your mind to descend into the heart and to remain there. . . . When your mind becomes firmly established in the heart, it must not remain there silent and idle, but it should constantly repeat the prayer: “Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me!” and never cease.43

However, states Nicephorus, for those who find this too difficult: You know that in every man inner talking is in the breast . . . Thus, having banished every thought from this inner talking (for you can do this if you want to), give it the following short prayer: “Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me!”—and force it, instead of all other thought, to have only this one constant cry within. If you continue to do this constantly, with your whole attention, then in time this will open for you the way to the heart which I have described.44

I have checked this against the translation from the Greek and can find no significant difference.45 A form of the Jesus Prayer, with a brief explanation, is found in The Way of a Pilgrim, a book that was celebrated in Russia in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. The Way of a Pilgrim, an anonymously written text set in Russian sometime between 1853 and 1861,46 was the possession of a monk on Mount Athos, from whom an abbot copied it and had it printed at Kazan in 1884.47 It seems to have been based on texts composed by the priest Mikhail Kozlov and went through several redactions before its first printing in 1881. The best-known version is that prepared by the Theophan the Recluse, who translated the Philokalia into Russian.48 The book commences without fuss or delay: The pilgrim is a Christian of the most humble birth who heard St. Paul’s exhortation to “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17).49 He approaches two persons, an educated and pious layman and then an abbot, receiving edification but not the instruction he desired. On the third occasion, as early as page 4 of the book, he finds a monk who takes him to a monastery, where he learns that: The continuous Prayer of Jesus is a constant uninterrupted calling upon the divine Name of Jesus with the lips, in the spirit, in the heart; while forming a mental picture of His constant presence, and imploring His grace, during every occupation, at all times, in all places, even during sleep. The appeal is couched in these terms, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.”50

The monk then read to him from a treatise attributed to St. Symeon the New Theologian, and some other authors in the Philokalia. At first, the practice went well, but then the pilgrim started to find his mind clouding, and to suffer distress. When he returned to the monk, he was read some of the passage from Nicephorus that we shall see shortly, and was given a rosary (note that the Latin rosary is used differently from the Greek and Russian Orthodox rosaries). He was told to use the rosary and to say three thousand times a day: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.”51 The count was increased, making it all but impossible to forget the prayer. It is also significant that the beads were found necessary to keep his mind steady, for Ouspensky refers to this value of the beads (see Section 3.5), and Gurdjieff used chaplets in the 1930s (see Section 7.4). Concerning the Jesus Prayer, Cunningham concludes at the end of her recent survey of that prayer and its place in the Philokalia that: The Jesus Prayer is not simply a formulation of words. It is aimed at returning the human person to the experience for which she or he was originally created, namely, union with the One who was begotten as the Second Adam, in the image and likeness of God. It is in this sense that the Jesus Prayer becomes a unifying thread that runs right through the five volumes of the Philokalia. It represents the means and the end of all ascetic endeavor, whose arduous practices may ultimately be rewarded by the mystical goal of union with Christ.52

However, we are not concerned with the history of either Mount Athos or of the Jesus Prayer as such, but the possible interest Gurdjieff had in certain Athonite practices.53 These are threefold: (1) an otherwise unattested exercise, the “Ego,” (2) the exercises of Nicephorus the Solitary, and (3) counting prayers on beads.54

3.5 Gurdjieff, Ouspensky, and the Jesus Prayer

As it happens, two Athonite forms of the Prayer of the Heart are so strongly reminiscent of two of Gurdjieff’s exercises that I suggest coincidence can be ruled out. I shall commence with Ouspensky because his statements are both more explicit and clearer than Gurdjieff’s. Ouspensky mentions both the Philokalia and The Way in several places.55 In A New Model of the Universe, Ouspensky discusses the latter book under its Russian title, The Sincere Narrations of a Pilgrim to his Spiritual Father, in rather favorable terms, and significantly states: “The Narrations of a Pilgrim” cannot serve as a manual for the practical study of “mental prayer,” because the description of the method of study contains a certain probably intentional incorrectness, namely, far too great an ease and rapidity in the pilgrim’s study of “mental prayer.” Nevertheless, this book gives a very clear idea of the principles of work upon self according to the methods of Bhakti-Yoga and is, in many respects, a unique production of its kind. 56

Incidentally, Kallistos Ware also makes the observation that the pilgrim in the book advances with a swiftness that does not seem true to experience.57 Ouspensky then continues that the “methods of the Dobrotolubiye have not vanished from real life.”58 That Ouspensky placed a great importance on these texts is shown not only by his making a translation into English of the Way,59 but also by how frequently he mentioned them, and by the fact that he had Eugenie Kadloubovsky, his “private secretary and administrator,” under his direction and that of his (Ouspensky’s) wife, translate the Philokalia into English. These translations, with a commentary and with texts from other religious traditions, were read in groups.60 He also took from the Philokalia its analysis of the states of “identification.”61 On January 23, 1934, Ouspensky stated: The fundamental idea of all that you can do in the Fourth Way and in this kind of school . . . is that the more conscious you are the greater will be the results of your work, so that the result of one or another effort is always modified and controlled by the consciousness of your aim, intentions and desires.62 . . . These exercises exist in the Eastern Church and in other forms they exist in Buddhist and Mohammedan schools. Some short prayer is usually taken and then repeated continuously; and this repeating is generally connected with breathing, listening to heart-beats and many other things . . . But this exercise, that is, repetition of a short prayer, needs breathing and fasting, otherwise it very soon becomes too easy; it slips over things without touching them. I mean that it awakes attention only in the very beginning. So I replaced the short prayer of seven words mentioned in the Philokalia by the Lord’s Prayer . . .63 . . . if it [the prayer] begins to repeat by itself or even starts by itself and does not need any attention it means that it has passed into the moving part of the intellectual center. Then later it can pass into the moving center and then into the instinctive center; and then by interesting methods it is possible to make it pass into the emotional center. This is the aim of these exercises, not for keeping the attention only but for the study of centers and parts of centers. . . . at a certain stage of the work it is necessary to make the emotional center work more intensively, and this is one of the aims of this prayer of the mind . . . The prayer of the mind in the heart is described in the short book “The Way of the Pilgrim”—in a fuller form it is described in the Philokalia, but I do not know of any literature describing the other method of . . . repeating a longer prayer and making it pass from one center to another.64

Ouspensky then went on to recommend counting the prayer on rosary beads “because by counting in this way it cannot escape attention.”65 He also went on to add that if the exercise passed into the moving parts of centers so that it did not need attention, but then was deliberately made conscious again, it could pass into the higher parts of centers, and from there “become the means for passing into higher centers.”66 Therefore, Ouspensky had precise knowledge of both the content of these Orthodox exercises and how to relate them to Gurdjieff’s system. That understanding came from Gurdjieff for, in 1923, Gurdjieff said: [Y]ou have heard or have also read about the special breathing connected with the “mental prayer” in Orthodox monasteries. . . . Breathing proceeding from the formatory apparatus is not breathing but “inflation.” The idea is that if a man carries out this kind of breathing long enough through the formatory apparatus, the moving center which remains idle during this period can get tired of doing nothing and start working in “imitation” of the formatory apparatus. And indeed this sometimes happens. But so that this should happen, many conditions are necessary, fasting and prayer are necessary and little sleep and all kinds of difficulties and burdens for the body.67

Gurdjieff immediately added that there was a great danger with this, for the moving center might not have learned the new technique, and when the formatory apparatus was shut down, for example during sleep, the exercitant might be unable to breathe because the moving center was confused.68 By referring to the “book” on this, Gurdjieff is almost certainly referring to either The Way of a Pilgrim or the Russian Dobrotolubiye, which was published in Moscow no later than 1896–1901.69 Négrier is of the view that Gurdjieff probably referred to the Jesus Prayer.70 Finally, whereas, on Gurdjieff’s view, the monks used methods that could have the effect of removing the action of the prayer from one center to another, at some discomfort and even risk, the exercises we study will show how Gurdjieff sought the same result by consciously directing the movement of subtle energies within the body.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70.

Eifring (2013). Eifring (2015). Trompf (2010). Samuel (2008) 1. Ouspensky (1949) 194. Ouspensky (1949) 194–195. Ouspensky (1949) 145 Ouspensky (1949) 141. Ouspensky (1949) 142, 145, 194–195; and (1951) 226–227. Ouspensky (1949) 195. Ouspensky (1949) 195. Taylor (2014) 13 and Lipsey (2019) 316 n.15. See for example Rist (1967), Trouillard (1955), and Gerson (1996). Plotinus, Ennead 5.1.10. This is a theme of the Ennead called “On the Three Primary Hypostases”: Plotinus Ennead 5.1.1–4 and 10–12. Ennead 4.3.30. Note Armstrong’s summary of Plotinus’ doctrine at 130 n.1: “the translation into images depends on the good health and freedom from disturbance of the body.” The “father” of souls is god: tas psukhas patros theou, Ennead 5.1.1. Porphyry, The Life of Plotinus, 2.26–27 in Armstrong vol. 1. Porphyry’s Life of Plotinus is traditionally published in the same volume as the Enneads, as a sort of introduction. Iamblichus (1991) 33[240], pp. 234–235. Porphyry 8.8–24. Iamblichus (1991) 4[19], pp. 44–45. Gurdjieff (1950) 455. Julian the Emperor, Hymn to King Helios, 134A (see Julian 1913). Gurdjieff (1950) 569. Gurdjieff (1950) 28–29. Gurdjieff (1933) 15. Ware (1996) 3 and Speake (2002) 41–51. Krausmüller (2006) 101. Ware (1996) 13 and Cunningham (2012) 3. Brock (1987) 42–61. Hausherr (1978) 126–136. Hausherr (1978) 128–129. Ware (2000) 79–80. Hausherr (1978) 131. Speake (2002) 140 refers to “Makarios Notaras and Nikodimos of the Holy Mountain.” Kadloubovsky and Palmer (1951) 6. Kadloubovsky and Palmer (1951) 6. Maloney’s introduction to Sorsky (2003) 16 and 35. Sorsky (2003) 54–57. Kadloubovsky and Palmer (1951). Palmer, Sherrard, and Ware (1995). Nicephorus, On Sobriety, 32. Nicephorus, On Sobriety, 33. Nicephorus, On Sobriety, 33–34. Nikephoros the Monk, On Sobriety, 205–206. Anonymous (1930) viii. Anonymous (1930) viii. Katz (2013) 200. Anonymous (1930) 1. Anonymous (1930) 8–9. 9–12. Cunningham (2012) 8–9. For the Jesus Prayer, see Hausherr (1978) and Cunningham (2012) passim. There has been some, but not very extensive, research in the field of Athonite practices, chiefly because one can only study the texts that have been published. But the most important studies may still be those of Irénée Hausherr (1966) and (1978). Ouspensky (1923) 242–244; (1931) 264–267; (1950) 5; (1951) 500. Ouspensky (1931) 265. See Section 2.1 on how “monk” means “monk in quotation marks,” for the ways are usually met with in mixed forms. Ware (2000) 84–85. Ouspensky (1931) 265. Nick Dewey in Eadie (1997) 25–26. Webb (1980) 385 and 410–411. Ouspensky (1951) 500, (1952) 296–298, and (1957) 12, plus Popoff (1969) 20. Sorsky (2003) 20–21 used the same analysis, which had long been known in monastic literature. Ouspensky (1952) 295. Ouspensky (1952) 296. Ouspensky (1952) 297. Ouspensky (1952) 298. Ouspensky (1952) 298. Ouspensky (1949) 387. Ouspensky (1949) 387–388. Kadloubovsky and Palmer (1951) 6 and 9 (the translator, Theophan the Recluse, died in 1894, but the note states that the edition used was published in the years 1896–1901). Négrier (2005) 37.

PART II GURDJIEFF’S CONTEMPLATIVE EXERCISES

4 The Russian Years

4.1 Introduction In Search of the Miraculous is the most authoritative introduction to Gurdjieff’s ideas, despite being effectively limited to Gurdjieff’s teaching between 1915 and August 1917. The period August 1917 through January 1924 is dealt with only in the final chapter, some twenty-one pages.1 As I have elsewhere noted, the book is, to a significant extent, an apology, a defense of Ouspensky’s break from Gurdjieff.2 However, for the theoretical foundation of Gurdjieff’s system, it is irreplaceable. As these foundations were canvassed in Chapter 1, I shall here deal only with the Ego Exercise, the exercises Gurdjieff gave in Essentuki, and the Stop Exercise. I shall then survey the evidence for Gurdjieff’s teaching of contemplative practices in these, his “Russian years.” There is one possible source I shall exclude, although some scholars have availed themselves of it: I refer to Paul Dukes’s account of meeting one “Prince Ozay.” For the reasons given by Paul Beekman Taylor, “Ozay” cannot have been Gurdjieff. Indeed, I am skeptical that the “Prince” was a real character.3 However, there are so many similarities to Gurdjieff’s teaching and his personality, and to the story “Glimpses of the Truth,” that it is difficult to think there is no connection. My own conjecture, based on the fact that Dukes knew Ouspensky,4 is that Dukes may have woven together the story out of “Glimpses” and Ouspensky’s recollections of Gurdjieff. A violinist named Shandarovsky, who had been with Gurdjieff and Ouspensky in Essentuki, told Thomas de Hartmann, and probably Ouspensky too, of “an experiment with the Lord’s Prayer that he had once practiced.”5 No other details of this are known. However, we must now consider Gurdjieff’s comments about exercises, and his practices, as reported in these foundational years of his public career.

4.2 The Ego Exercise Ouspensky reports that in one exchange with his Russian pupils, in or before 1917, Gurdjieff asked his pupils: “When you pronounce the word ‘I’ aloud, have you noticed where this word sounds in you?” We did not at once understand what he meant. But we very soon began to notice that when pronouncing the word “I” some of us definitely felt as if this word sounded in the head, others felt it in the chest, and others over the head—outside the body. . . . G. listened to all these remarks and said that there was an exercise connected with this which, according to him, had been preserved up to our time in the monasteries of Mount Athos. A monk kneels or stands in a certain position and, lifting his arms, which are bent at the elbows, he says—Ego aloud and drawn out while listening at the same time where the word “Ego” sounds. The purpose of this exercise is to feel “I” every moment a man thinks of himself and to bring “I” from one center to another.6

Ouspensky does not state that they were given that exercise, or that Gurdjieff had been asking them to say “I am” while being sensitive to any bodily response. Rather, it was only mentioned as an illustration of the possible experience. I shall contend that this exercise was adapted by Gurdjieff as the First Assisting Exercise (also known as the “I Am” Exercise) at some time in the early 1930s. Boris Ferapontoff’s notes show that Gurdjieff had said, in 1920–1921, while in Constantinople, that the sensation of oneself being present, “I and here,” was a feature of the state of consciousness that had to be prolonged for self-development.7 Further, the movement of the sense of “I” from one center to another was of the essence of Gurdjieff’s 1923 explanation of these Orthodox exercises (see Section 3.5), and, as we shall see, this is exactly what he attempts through his later methods. The significance of this passage from Ouspensky, then, is that it provides a theoretical platform for what was to develop. In this episode is found the germ of Transformed-contemplation.

4.3 First Relaxation and Sensing Exercises Ouspensky reports that during a six-week period at the end of 1917, he and some others of Gurdjieff’s pupils lived at Essentuki with Gurdjieff: “We slept for four hours, at the most, five. We did all the housework; and the rest of the time was occupied with exercises of which I will speak later.”8 The introduction to the exercises was a talk in which Gurdjieff mentioned the need to stop the useless waste of energy in the human organism:

[O]ne of the first things a man must learn previous to any physical work on himself is to observe and feel muscular tension and to be able to relax the muscles when it is necessary, that is to say, chiefly to relax unnecessary tension of the muscles. In this connection G. showed a number of different exercises for obtaining control over muscular tension and he showed us certain postures adopted in schools when praying or contemplating which a man can only adopt if he learns to relax unnecessary tension of the muscles. Among them was the so-called posture of Buddha with feet resting on the knees.9

This point about relaxation shall be taken up again, especially in Chapters 11 and 17, for Gurdjieff insisted on it in the exercises he taught in the 1940s, and when teaching the Preparation. To speak of the “posture of Buddha” of course points to a Buddhist tradition. So far as I am aware, use of these postures ceased after this sojourn in Essentuki. Ouspensky continued: He gave us many exercises for gradually relaxing the muscles always beginning with the muscles of the face, as well as exercises for “feeling” the hands, the feet, the fingers, and so on at will.10

Ouspensky does not elaborate on these exercises, but he does describe one of the sensing exercises: Very interesting was the exercise with a “circular sensation,” as G. called it. A man lies on his back on the floor. Trying to relax all his muscles, he then concentrates his attention on trying to sense his nose. When he begins to sense his nose the man then transfers his attention and tries to sense his ear; when this is achieved he transfers his attention to the right foot. From the right foot to the left; then to the left hand; then to the left ear and back again to the nose, and so on.11

These exercises for relaxation and sensing were not given in a contemplative setting, although Gurdjieff apparently said that the postures were used when praying or contemplating. As we shall see in Chapters 11 and 17, such exercises were incorporated into Gurdjieff’s teaching in the 1940s. Ouspensky then comes to the Stop Exercise, which I consider in the next section. After that treatment, Ouspensky returns to Gurdjieff’s physical exercises: Very interesting but unbelievably difficult were exercises in which a whole series of consecutive movements were performed in connection with taking the attention from one part of the body to another. For instance, a man sits on the ground with his knees bent and holding his arms, with the palms of the hands close together, between his feet. Then he has to lift up one leg and during this time count: om, om . . . up to the tenth om and then nine times om, eight times om, and seven times om, and so on, down to one and then again twice om, three times om, and so on, and at the same time “sense” his right eye. Then separate the thumb and “sense” his left ear and so on and so on. It was necessary first to remember the order of the movements and “sensing,” then not to go wrong in the counting, to remember the count of movements and sensing. This was very difficult but it did not end the affair. When a man had mastered this exercise and could do it, say, for about ten or fifteen minutes, he was given, in addition, a special form of breathing, namely, he must inhale while pronouncing om several times and exhale pronouncing om several times; moreover the count had to be made aloud. Beyond this there were still greater and greater complications of the exercise up to almost impossible things. And G. told us he had seen people who for days did exercises of this kind.12

Simplified versions of this sort of exercise, accompanied with music, were incorporated into Gurdjieff’s movements: For example, toward the close of the film Meetings with Remarkable Men, directed by Peter Brook under the direction of Jeanne de Salzmann,13 there is a movement known as “The Circles” in which, at its most complex, each arm is moved in circles in different directions and at different paces, and the eyes, head, and legs are rhythmically moved, as the pupils chant “Om.” Something of the principle of these movements is expressed by Claustres thus: “The complexity of the Movements meant that the sensations and feelings could not be imaginary.”14 However, the difficulty and intensity of the exercises Gurdjieff taught at Essentuki do not seem to have ever been repeated, with perhaps one or two exceptions that did not pass into the tradition.15 Thomas de Hartmann also reports that exercises were given in 1917: In Essentuki Mr. Gurdjieff had begun to give us exercises for this purpose [work on oneself], including some for the concentration of thought and some quite complicated ones with regard to breathing. I do not think I should describe them . . . Mr. Gurdjieff often warned us that exercises connected with breathing could even be harmful if they were not done in the proper way.16

4.4 The Stop Exercise This exercise was also begun in Essentuki, and continued, but was reprised in the Prieuré in the early 1920s, and again later. At some point in the 1940s, Gurdjieff produced a movement, one of the thirty-nine, in which the demonstrators unexpectedly, at their own discretion, call a stop.17 He also gave George Cornelius permission to “give” the Stop Exercise.18 Bennett employed it at Coombe Springs,19 and George Adie also used it, if sparingly, in his Newport groups.20 Frank Sinclair recounts a memorable example of how it was given by a South African group in the Ouspensky line.21 “Stop” is a “discipline” rather than a contemplative exercise (see Section 0.2) but is not given while one is in the “special state.” As it predates Transformed-contemplation, it arguably demonstrates Gurdjieff’s principled preference for those exercises and tasks that are sited in social life, not in the “special state.” This exercise is known from four transcripts, all of which must have been based on Ouspensky’s text, for although only the passage in In Search of the Miraculous is attributed to Ouspensky, the other three are clearly drawn from it. The latest of the transcripts, that of 1924, reads22:

In this exercise, the pupil must at the word “Stop” or upon a previously arranged signal arrest all movement. The command can be given at any time and anywhere. Whatever he may be doing, whether at work, repose, at meals, on the Institute premises or outside, he must instantly stop. The tension of his muscles must be maintained, his facial expression, his smile, his gaze, must remain fixed and in the same state as they were when the command caught him. The positions thus obtained are used by beginners for mental work in order to quicken intellectual activity while developing the will. The stop exercise gives no new postures; it is simply an incipient movement interrupted. We generally change our attitudes so unconsciously that we do not notice what positions we assume between two attitudes. With this exercise the transition from one posture to another is cut in two. The body arrested by the sudden command is forced to stop in a position in which it has never come to a standstill before. This enables the man to observe himself better. He can feel himself in a new light. In this manner he may break through the vicious circle of his automatism. . . . We do not realize how intimately tied together are our three functions, moving, emotional and mental. They depend one upon the other. They result one from another. They are in constant reciprocal action. . . . The Institute’s method of preparation for the harmonious development of man, is to free him from automatism. The stop exercise helps much toward that object. The physical body being maintained in an unaccustomed position, the subtler bodies of emotion and thought can stretch into another shape. . . . A man cannot order himself to stop, because the combined postures of our three functions are too heavy for the will to move. Coming from another, the command “Stop!” plays the role of the mental and emotional functions whose state generally commands the physical posture . . . And that enables our will to rule for a time over our functions.23

Gurdjieff offered as an example his own experience as a pupil among others, with the exercise, in Central Asia.24 However, while there is no apparent reason to doubt this, except Gurdjieff’s tendency to cover his tracks, no evidence that the Stop Exercise has ever been used anywhere else has, so far as I am aware, been found. Gurdjieff used “Stop” as part of his demonstrations of movements and Sacred Dances in the 1920s: The passage we have read came from the notes for his demonstrations in New York, in 1924. “Stop” is an exercise to be given in the social domain of life, but it quite sharply interrupts that life. All the exercises have to be taught to the exercitant, but this one is different in that only the teacher can give it; the exercitant can never self-administer it.

4.5 Why Did Gurdjieff Initially Eschew Contemplative Exercises? It is noteworthy that those exercises for relaxation, sensation, and “Stop,” which Gurdjieff first taught in 1917, were eventually incorporated not into Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation, but, insofar as he did use them, into his Movements. Other exercises for relaxation and sensation were indeed at the heart of his contemplative practices, but not those. To examine the question of why Gurdjieff did not teach those practices earlier, I must make a thematic study, using materials that will be more fully treated later on, in the chronological study. In my earlier research on Gurdjieff’s attitude to contemplation, I concluded that in his first period of teaching, in Russia, Georgia, and Constantinople between 1915 and 1923, he is not known to have made any significant reference to either meditation or contemplation, nor to have taught either what became “the Preparation” or the “I Am” Exercise, in anything like the forms they were later given.25 To the sources examined there can now be added the notes of Ferapontoff from Gurdjieff’s and Ouspensky’s teaching in Constantinople.26 Such a silence from this source and the others considered in the earlier article would seem fairly decisive that Gurdjieff was not then teaching contemplative exercises. The undated and privately printed document known as the Prospectus, which was published first in French and then in English, decries the use of “exercises in meditation and concentration” for “all and sundry.”27 The “Programme” annexed to it advertises many forms of instruction, but nothing like meditation or Transformed-contemplation, but it does include, without further description, “Special exercises for the development of the memory, will, attention, thinking, perception, etc.”28 Further, there is no evidence that Gurdjieff incorporated the “I Am” Exercise into the morning Preparation as its climax and summation, before 1948–1949 (see Chapter 17). Why not? While Ouspensky says nothing of such exercises or practices being taught to him by Gurdjieff, there is abundant evidence that he knew of meditation and contemplation, but considered meditative exercises to be foreign to the system he was teaching, and that meditation in itself was not possible for an undeveloped person.29 As Ouspensky said on January 6, 1938: If you can self-remember you can meditate; if not, you cannot. Self-remembering means control of thoughts, different state. Meditation is action of developed mind, and we ascribe it to ourselves. . . . It would be very good if we could do it. Selfremembering is the way towards these. It does not mean instead of using this way you can begin from the end. You have to begin from the beginning like in everything else. What does “meditation” mean? Thinking about this system. Trying to connect ideas and reconstruct the system. This is meditation, not simply thinking about one word, one idea.30

It was only provisional, therefore, that “meditation” had no meaning in the system. Ouspensky understood by “meditation” “sustained pondering on single words and ideas” (similar to the Christian notion of meditation), and thought that meditation would discover connections between ideas and would lead to a deeper understanding of the system. Ouspensky was likewise of the view that certain specifically Indian methods of meditation were dangerous. On October 9, 1935, he stated: I also saw why I was suspicious in relation to devotional schools. For instance, [Paul] Brunton found schools. He describes, very well, people, Yogis he met who could go into a trance etc. This is a very dangerous way. Bringing oneself into a trance means creation of imagination in higher emotional center. And this is a blind alley. If you get there you cannot get out and cannot go any further. The idea is to control imagination. If, instead of that, by certain methods, you transform it into imagination in higher emotional center, you get bliss, happiness, but it is, after all, only sleep on a higher level.31

Orage attributes the phrase “higher sleep” to Gurdjieff.32 I concluded, in my earlier study, that it seemed to be that the possibility of damaging the possible connections of lower with higher centers is why Ouspensky not only did not use any methods of meditation or contemplation, and had learnt none from Gurdjieff, but that he was philosophically opposed to them, he believed . . . that meditation was possible only after a great deal of mental development, and that methods of inducing trance were dangerous.33

De Ropp recalls that in England in the 1930s, Ouspensky’s wife, who had also known Gurdjieff, and who joined Ouspensky in teaching the system, “made it clear that the way was hard and could not be achieved by sitting around meditating, which she said was a useless practice. ‘You meditate,’ she said, ‘stare at wall. Soon you see things—angels, devils, anything. All imagination. Must work’.”34 In Section 3.5 we saw Ouspensky’s view of the mental prayer and of the breathing exercises associated with it in the Orthodox tradition, and Gurdjieff’s warning from 1923 about how they could lead to a complete physical breakdown. While Bennett stated, possibly on his own authority, that the Jesus Prayer had resulted in “thousands of monks and nuns attaining to states of illumination,” he attributes to Ouspensky the view that it had been designed for monks and was too emotionally disturbing for others.35 This coincides with Gurdjieff’s stated reason for being wary of the technique.

4.6 Gurdjieff’s Hesitations About Contemplative Exercises Gurdjieff was probably the source of Ouspensky’s views about the dangers of Eastern methods. Bennett stated that Gurdjieff regarded breathing exercises as particularly sacred and at the same time perilous. He was shocked at the way in which breathing exercises, particularly those of the Indian Yogis, had been introduced into the West and employed to produce states of ecstasy and to develop certain powers of perception and experience.36

If the correct interpretation is that Gurdjieff was dismayed at the use of these exercises to cause ecstasy and other unusual states, then this is of a piece with Ouspensky’s objections to trance states. But Gurdjieff could have been objecting both to that and to the teaching of such techniques outside of a traditional setting. Perhaps the strongest direct evidence for my contention that Gurdjieff added contemplation-like methods relatively late in his career, because he had hoped it would not be necessary to use them, is this passage, recording words spoken to Solito Solano and others on January 25, 1936: Active mentation and later pondering come just from the new processes you are about to exercise and from which you will achieve results. Active of mind cannot be without taking this exercise in new feeling. And together with it, the mind. But not mind meditating like monk or philosopher. A little of this new process put in the mind and you already will have the beginning of active mentation. Discussion with others is no good. Only discussion with yourself on this new activity is important. But you must not philosophize. Later I will explain everything. You cannot keep out associations. Let them flow on. You can never be without or you would die. But put them in separate place. Pay no attention to them, but put your intention on new activity. . . . All parts must be made harmonic or bad results will be received.37

Further, on October 8, 1943, he said to someone who had returned to the groups after a holiday: Here it is a different situation. There are other conditions . . . And now, if you continue to be afraid, then the same thing will happen to you as to a monk in a monastery. In a monastery, a monk works very well by himself, but in life he loses his way as soon as he relates to others. What you gained when you were away, you need to work at establishing in your life. . . . If you do not make efforts to do this, the same thing that happens to monks will happen to you. Everything will be lost.38

So, Ouspensky’s view that meditation is an advanced practice is reflected in what Gurdjieff says about how “active mentation” and, later on, “pondering” will come from the processes set in train by these, “the new processes you are about to exercise” (understanding “meditation,” “active mentation,” and “pondering” to be equivalents). These are dealt with in the next chapter, when we consider a talk Gurdjieff gave on “active mentation” (which he also termed “active reasoning”). Gurdjieff’s expressed antipathy to what he calls “mind meditating like monk or philosopher” has two aspects, at least: the need to fully understand what one is doing and its likely effect, and the necessity that not only the mind but the entire human being participate. Touching the first aspect, in The Herald of Coming Good, written in 1933,39 Gurdjieff reiterates from the Prospectus that it would not help a person to use general methods such as “various physical exercises, exercises in meditation and concentration, breathing exercises, various systems of diet, fasting, etc., for all and sundry.”40 Gurdjieff did employ such means, but not for all and sundry: At least in theory, his applications were individualized.41 As mentioned in Section 0.3, Gurdjieff maintained a distinction between objective and subjective exercises, which allowed for a blend of common and individual approaches. The second aspect of his aversion to “philosophizing” is that the physical function plays a fundamental role in Gurdjieff’s pursuit for greater and broader awareness, and “monks” and “philosophers” do not allow the body this basic place. As stated in Chapter 1, for Gurdjieff, the work of one part alone is necessarily unbalanced and useless, if not dangerous. Thus, speaking on July 13, 1944, to a pupil who sometimes felt an “absence” of his body, Gurdjieff said:

That which you explain now does not resemble our work. If you continue, you have a fine chance of soon being a candidate for an insane asylum. It is a state which the spiritualists and theosophists know. Stop immediately. You must not forget that you are a body. You must always remember your body. You have not yet an “I,” no “me.” Do not forget it. Thus only can you have a future.42

After further comments to like effect, Gurdjieff advised the person to wash his head in cold water and hold out his arms for between ten and twenty minutes while affirming “I am” and “I want to be.”43 That is, Gurdjieff directs the exercitant to harmonize the operation of the three chief functions (intellectual, feeling, and physical) by directing one’s attention first to the body, as providing the most direct contact with reality. Likewise, in an undated transcript, Gurdjieff warns someone against a “tendency of having extraordinary states without a real basis, without weight. You must eliminate this.”44 Incidentally, in his strictures on monks, he may not have had Christian monks exclusively in mind: He told Orage that he had had access to every monastery in Tibet and found prodigiously unbalanced people. He said: “I did not discover one single being with universal development—only monsters. A particular variety of monstrosity—but no attainment of objective reason, no more than in the West, only different.”45 At least prima facie, there is a significant difference between Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation and those Buddhist practices in which dhyana or “trance states” are sought after. As Katz states of “Right concentration,” the eighth limb of the eightfold path, it is “practicing the proper meditation patterns, especially the four dhyanas or trance states.”46 Hence Powers, who does not use the word “trance” so far as I can see, states: The four formless absorptions are meditative states that correspond to levels within the Formless Realm . . . They are called “absorptions” because in them one’s attention is withdrawn from external objects and the mind and mental factors are all equally focused on the meditative object. . . . In the absorption of limitless space, the appearance of forms to the mind completely disappears, and the meditator perceives everything as uninterrupted space, without any obstruction or variety.47

A full comparative study would take into account the many meanings of “trance”48 and “meditation”49 and research what is done in practice, but the difference between this and Gurdjieff’s body-based methods is apparent. Finally, if I am correct that Gurdjieff adapted his inner exercises from the Hesychast tradition, then it points to a very specific reason why Gurdjieff would not have wanted to use such methods: They are not from the Fourth Way, but from one of the existing traditions that he has said is not as efficient as his own. Related to this, he wanted his students to be strong in life, not only when they were quietly seated away from distractions. He found, once more, that some blend was necessary. Gurdjieff’s second reason for avoiding contemplation in secluded conditions was perhaps his concern about human suggestibility, which he considered to be a scourge, causing people to lose their independence and individual initiative.50 The exercises often involve representing to oneself that something is happening within the body, and saying to oneself words such as “I am” or “Lord have mercy.” In Beelzebub, he stated that suggestibility can lead to “that strange and relatively prolonged ‘psychic state,’ which I should call the ‘loss of sensation of self’.”51 The link between suggestibility and loss of selfawareness made Gurdjieff wary of trance states and their equivalent. Gurdjieff did not want students to suffer from dissociation; rather, he aimed at a fuller and more vivid sense of the self as a unity. The third concern, I shall suggest, is the one outlined above, that Gurdjieff may have adopted at least the basic idea of his central exercises from the monks of Mount Athos, and was concerned to cover his tracks lest students begin to indiscriminately apply the various methods of Athos and its monasteries, mixing its religious and devotional practices with his own. Gurdjieff wanted to introduce a coherent system—hence, perhaps, his efforts to introduce cultural elements: for the fuller immersion of his pupils in a way of life. It was one thing for Gurdjieff to adapt a technique he had found elsewhere, but there was also much that was inconsistent with his Fourth Way, such as the requirement for obedience and the need to leave life at once to enter a monastery forever. With Gurdjieff, faith was not required, only understanding; and the conditions in which people find themselves in life are the best for the work, “at any rate at the beginning of the work.”52 To conclude: Contemplation was a method Gurdjieff learned, directly or indirectly, from the monastic tradition. Contemplation was, then, for Gurdjieff, a method that mixed the Fourth Way with others, and so was not desirable.

4.7 Gurdjieff’s Reticence About Exercises Then there is the question of the reticence of his students. We have already seen de Hartmann’s stated belief that he should not disclose them (see Section 4.3). Nott mentions exercises involving “the conscious use of air and impressions” but states they were done only under Gurdjieff’s direction.53 We have seen, in Section 4.5, Mme. Ouspensky’s disparagement of meditation as a tool for introducing the wrong use of imagination. Kenneth Walker (1882–1966) was a little more forthcoming, saying something of the nature of the exercises given in 1948 and 1949:

After taking our coffee Gurdjieff would talk to me about some exercise that I had to do, such as an exercise for “sensing” various parts of the body. Or it might be a method by which I should become more aware of the energy I was continually throwing away. He suggested that I should draw an imaginary circle around myself, beyond which my attention and my energies should never be allowed to stray, so long as I was engaged in doing this exercise.54

Louise March (1900–1987) knew Gurdjieff, on and off, over a period of twenty years. In her posthumously edited and published recollections, she states that, after she had studied with Gurdjieff in France, children called her “Quiet Lady,” because she would sit “in stillness above the alcove on the second-story porch” each morning. This suggests either that she had learned the Gurdjieff exercise that Adie called “the Preparation,” which was to be done at the start of each day, or that she was practicing the Genuine Being Exercise advice, which we shall come to in Chapter 6. However, there is no clue in the book as to what March did.55 Far more significant is the account of Martin Benson (d. 1971), published posthumously from transcripts of his talks and groups: The Old Man had things to say when he used to send us to the church: “You get yourself into an objective state and you steal their prayers.” . . . He said: “You steal their prayers, because you need them for your growth . . . because they haven’t got the power to reach their God.” Now, if I was in a state as I mentioned, I could have stolen those prayers, but I have never been.56

“The Old Man” is an epithet of Gurdjieff’s.57 This is also the only reference I have seen to Gurdjieff’s being in the habit of sending people to church (the habit is inferred from Benson’s saying that Gurdjieff used to send them there). It is striking, too, that Benson states that he was never in a state where he could fulfill the exercise: If Gurdjieff was aware of this difficulty it may account for the fuller version he taught George Adie. Later on, Benson restates this: I used to go to Saint Eustache. . . . I sat and listened and tried to get into an objective state to steal their prayers. And he approved. He said: “You take their prayers for your development, your welfare, your strength, because they are going to waste. They have not the force, or power or understanding to reach their God.” . . . He said: “They could reach their God if they knew how.” Then he told me: “You have the wish to reach your God. It comes from you, and as you develop, you can reach your God. And then you take strength from your God or from that force and take it back to you. It’s like this [Benson would place his hand ten or twelve inches in front of his chest and then bring it in towards his heart, in a gathering motion, several times over] that’s the motion. It has to start from you, though. Begin as the desire, the wish, and then, religiously, you study that in order to reach something higher and greater forces—in order to bring it back to you.58

Benson does not associate with this anything like the full contemplative exercise called “The Four Ideals” that Adie was taught (see Chapter 13): This version does not even explicitly need to be done seated. Further, Benson had an antipathy to contemplative exercises.59 He said: “I could almost answer that nobody, sitting in a quiet time, can come to attention. You have to be in a receptive part of attention, and it takes a big shock so that you’re ready to receive it.”60 Although Gurdjieff did say that one should practice in quiet conditions so that one could then remember in the common domain of life (see Section 11.7), he may not have entirely disagreed with Benson either. I rather think that his position was that quiet conditions were necessary and that these exercises would help the exercitant to be in a receptive state in the common domain, hence the sometimes lengthy prologues to the exercises. The very fact that Benson was taught the theoretical basis of the Four Ideals Exercise, and also not to sit with eyes closed, together with his knowledge of the Athonite Ego Exercise, shows that Gurdjieff could have introduced these ideas earlier, but chose not to.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60.

Ouspensky (1949) 368–369. Azize (2016b) 14–15. Taylor (2004) passim and (2008) 45–47. Taylor makes sufficient reference to those writers who accept the story at face value. Taylor (2004) 8–9 and Lachman (2004) 88. De Hartmann (1992) 53. Ouspensky (1949) 299 and 304. All italics and punctuation are as in the text. Ferapontoff (2017) 66. Ouspensky (1949) 346. Ouspensky (1949) 350. Ouspensky (1949) 350–351. Ouspensky (1949) 351. Ouspensky (1949) 358. Moore (2005) 209. Claustres (2005) 73. Ouspensky’s comments on the rationale for them are also significant but fall outside the scope of this study: Ouspensky (1949) 359. Claustres (2005) 109–110. De Hartmann (1992) 209. Howarth and Howarth (1998) 470. Adie and Azize (2015) 160. Edwards (2009) 19–21. Adie and Azize (2015) 159. Sinclair (2005) 73. Ouspensky’s fullest statement of this exercise is found in (1949) 351–354 with several pages of observations on the application of the exercise at Essentuki: 354–356. In Gurdjieff’s Early Talks, Ouspensky’s notes have evidently been used to produce three talks: 155–157, 159–161, and 284–285. Gurdjieff (2014) 284–285. Ouspensky (1949) 355. Azize (2016b) 146. Ferapontoff (2017). Gurdjieff (undated) 6. On the “Prospectus,” see Webb (1980) 233–236. Gurdjieff (undated) 9. Azize (2016b) 147–149. Ouspensky (1951) 151. Ouspensky (1952) 127. Orage (2013) 228. Azize (2016b) 149. De Ropp (1979) 100. Bennett (1962) 131. Bennett (undated) xxxii–xxxiii. Anonymous (2012) 27. Gurdjieff (2017) 196. Taylor (2008) 176. Gurdjieff (1933) 35–36. Azize (2014). Gurdjieff (2009) 140. Gurdjieff (2009) 140. Gurdjieff (2009) 104. Orage (2013) 161. Katz (2013) 7. Powers (2007) 84–85. The Notes on the Concentrations and Formless Absorptions of Tsong-kha-pa would appear to entirely bear out Powers’s conclusions; Zahler (2009), 330–349, especially 347. See, for example, Inglis (1989) 7–11. Powers (2007) 81–91 describes many types of meditation in Tibetan Buddhism. Gurdjieff (1950) 107 and 644. Gurdjieff (1950) 960–961. Ouspensky (1949) 49. Nott (1961) 91. Walker (1963) 126. March (2012) 97. Benson (2011) 156. Benson (2011) 236. Benson (2011) 174. Note the introduction, by Lehmann-Haupt, Benson (2011) 12. Benson (2011) 78.

5 Gurdjieff to the Early 1930s

5.1 Introduction There is no evidence that Gurdjieff used methods of Transformed-contemplation while at the Prieuré, but there is a significant account of his giving mental tasks (for my definition of “tasks” see Section 0.2). Tchechovitch recalls that at the Prieuré: In the morning, after breakfast, we would head off to the work we had been assigned. . . . One time we were asked to carry out mathematical operations while using, in the place of numbers, sixteen feminine names. Instead of saying 16 minus 12 equals 4, for example, we had to say Nina minus Adèle gives Marie, or that Marie multiplied by Nina gives Lily-Marie, meaning 64. When we were together at our tasks, one of us had to propose an arithmetical operation in time with a certain rhythm. On the following measure, the others were to respond according to the proposed rule. Then it was the next person’s turn and so on. . . . The feminine names could just as well be replaced by colors, opera titles, various objects, gestures, or whatever.1

Students also memorized Tibetan words, Morse code, and Gurdjieff’s new script.2 These tasks were engaged in simultaneously with other activities, in the social domain of life. The “Prospectus” had, after all, promised “Special exercises for the development of the memory, will, attention, thinking, perception, etc.”3 This is reminiscent of the idea that Gurdjieff attributes to Yelov of studying languages while working, to occupy his mind with something useful and to prevent his thought from interfering with other functions.4 Orage was to systematically develop these techniques into what I have called “disciplines” (see Section 0.2), and then sought to fashion exercises for the will. Thus, Gurdjieff’s own pupil may have nudged him toward the development of exercises.

5.2 Orage’s Psychological Exercises In Section 1.5, we considered Orage’s career with Gurdjieff and how his publication of Psychological Exercises in 1930 had angered Gurdjieff. The book itself is in two parts: exercises and the fifteen essays. Both the exercises in the first part of the book and the essays in the second exhibit clear continuity with the tasks Gurdjieff employed at the Prieuré, and his teaching. Hence three of Orage’s exercises read: 23. Recite the numbers 1–100, a. ascending, b. descending.

24. Tom is 1, Dick is 2, Harry is 3. Recite the numbers a. ascending, b. descending,—substituting these names where required. Tom, Dick, Harry 4.5.6.7.8.9. Tom 0, Tom-Tom, Tom-Dick, Tom-Harry, Tom-4 . . . 25. The same where Tom is 2, Dick 5, and Harry 7.5

Webb correctly states that these exercises were based on Gurdjieff’s principles and were “designed to flex the unused muscles of the mind.”6 In his introduction, Orage stated that there are deficiencies in modern education, and that these defects leave us unable to meet and solve the challenges raised by “a changing civilization” and to advance science.7 Orage’s aspirations, then, were bold. He avers that the exercises in the book have been tried over some time, with people of varying ages, and the results vetted. The exercises have been found effective in increasing problem-solving abilities, and while acknowledging that the training “is still in the pioneer stage,” he expresses significant confidence in these unique methods.8 At the least, Orage was referring to his own groups, but he may have been also alluding to the Prieuré. However, his psychological meetings ceased at some unknown time due to poor attendance (see Section 1.5). The exercises are subdivided into “simple,” “with numbers,” “with words,” “with a verse,” “psychological,” and “miscellaneous.” The first of the simple exercises is to count down from one hundred to zero, while the fourth demands one answer as quickly as possible what day of the week and what day of the month it is. The tenth and final exercise inquires as to the difference between an odd and an even number.9 The exercises with numbers generally require the rapid recitation of series of numbers, regularly ascending or descending in twos, threes, fours, and so on, and then mixing the different series so that one might alternately ascend or descend in different series (e.g., counting 2, 3, 98, 97, 4, 6, 96, 94, 6, 9, 94, 91, and so on).10 The exercises with words often require the conversion of words into numbers (e.g., “an” becomes 1.14), reading mirror writing, recalling dictation, or reading and spelling passages backwards.11 The verse exercises begin with something simple, such as “Jack and Jill.” After counting first the number of words, then of letters, one progresses to numbering each word (e.g., 1 Jack, 2 and, 3 Jill), reciting only the first and last letters of each word and so on, until a second rhyme is selected (e.g., “Mary had a little lamb”)

and one line from each rhyme is alternately recited.12 Then follows a Gurdjieff-based diagram, charting “thought” above “emotion” and “sensation,” and showing the distinction between pleasant and unpleasant emotions. This is used to explain certain fundamental concepts—for example, “Thinking pre-supposes Imagination; Imagination pre-supposes Memory; Memory pre-supposes Sensation; and Sensation pre-supposes and external world as the original source of sense-impressions.”13 There then follow tests for sense-impressions (e.g., to scan a surface, close one’s eyes, and recall in detail what was seen). Sensory impressions are cultivated by various means (e.g., preparing a range of scents and having the students distinguish and classify them).14 That sort of idea is repeated with all the senses, being—in this schema—sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, bodily states, and bodily movements.15 The miscellaneous exercises, what I would call “tasks,” offer a variation on Ouspensky’s exercise of watching a watch hand move while being conscious of oneself: The exercitant is to be aware of the moving hand only, while reciting a familiar verse such as “Jack and Jill.”16 The fifteen essays had earlier been published, in 1925, by Munson when he was editor of the popular magazine Psychology.17 Munson was quite taken by the essays, as were Orage’s friends and students, finding that they harmonized with the contents of his Gurdjieff group meetings. For example, Carol Robinson said that many of the group members had wanted to attend the classes based on them but could not afford them; she copied sections of them and posted them to Jane Heap, then residing on the Continent.18 But they aroused little other interest until they were republished in 1953 and marketed as The Active Mind.19 The first essay, “How to Think,” repeats the hand-watching exercise, with some elaborations.20 The second, “The Control of Temper,” recommends having the correct attitude—that is, that negative emotions are an illness—and then neither to think about nor feel the supposed grievance, but rather to sense one’s physical state only (the skin, the tension of the muscles, and so on).21 These ideas are all pure Gurdjieff. It is doubtful that Orage could have conceived and then formulated them so clearly but for Ouspensky and Gurdjieff, and yet perhaps Orage alone could have put them so concisely and almost sweetly. The essays, then, show something of what a first-class writer could make of Gurdjieff’s system. Why was Gurdjieff unhappy? The book did not meet expectations when it was published in New York.22 Perhaps without an ongoing commitment to such exercises (for example, in one of Orage’s groups), they would just be curiosities, and abstruse curiosities at that. Yet, it makes interesting reading today, for the ideas and outlooks are good, sometimes very good, and Orage’s prose is always clear, precise, and pleasant. Unlike the exercises Gurdjieff was later to teach, there was nothing in them about attempting to remember oneself during them. However, it is difficult to imagine that Gurdjieff had not known of Orage’s experiments, since the essays had been printed in 1925 and were known to his Gurdjieff students, and the psychological exercises began in 1927. There is positive reason to think that Gurdjieff did know, hence, on May 13, 1930, that Orage said to his group, concerning the Third Obligolnian Striving (see Section 2.1): This is not necessarily a visible activity, or concrete work, but it is effort. Obligation of this kind is to keep one’s self exercising —effort-making. Perhaps before January I can make you a scale of exercises of will, from the scale of the mouse to the elephant. These would not be exercises of mind but of developing will, which is the ability to carry out whims. I have received a suggestion from Gurdjieff which makes this possible.23

So, while the evidence is less than conclusive, it does seem that Orage was working in tandem with Gurdjieff on this line of research, and publication. He had spoken with him about furthering it by devising a series of exercises for the will—that is, for the ability to “do,” in Gurdjieff’s terms. Some light is shed on this by consideration of one particular essay, “On Dying Daily,” which I term a “discipline,” being more sustained than a “task” but not so complex as an exercise, as it does not use the feeling and body, and is not aimed at digesting higher substances (see Section 0.2).

5.3 Orage’s “On Dying Daily” This essay is based on the premise that “If the moment for a pictorial review of life is death, the moment for a pictorial review of the day is sleep.”24 Orage refers first to the reports of drowning people whose lives are “unrolled before [them] in pictures,” impersonally and impartially, without commentary. These show, he says, that the impressions of life are not lost, and suggest that we can learn from the change of consciousness associated with the approach of death to take advantage of the change of consciousness associated with sleep. The critical point is to make an impartial, pictorial, daily review consciously.25 The knowledge that we would be making such a nightly review, says Orage, leads us to be more attentive during the day. Then, the more impersonal it is, the more it provides us with self-knowledge, for we see ourselves as others do, and, better perceiving our own faults, we acquire tolerance of others. The final promised benefit is an increase in strength of mind, will, and concentration.26 Orage suggests a method: First, establish a rhythmic count (e.g., 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, and then descending) and start to see yourself as you were that day, “exactly as if you were unwinding a film,” commencing from when you awoke. Orage’s rationale is that “counting occupies the thinking brain and thus naturally allows the pictorial memory to work more easily. . . . Thinking not only impedes the pictorial representation but it subtly but surely falsifies the pictures.”27 This is redolent of Yelov’s advice (see Section 5.1). Orage avers that many have worked at this discipline and found that it starts to proceed almost of itself; further, it will help us sleep better since both “brain-thinking” and “emotional thinking”

(i.e., worrying) keep us awake.28 This method was used by Jane Heap, who taught it to Kathryn Hulme in 1928. Heap’s explanation referred to “the cinema of one’s life,” wherein drowning people had found all their memories were recorded; this could be used “consciously” for an impersonal and pictorial review.29 The discipline made a massive difference to the success of Hulme’s writing. Overjoyed, she reflected: “I have always believed that if an unknown man named Gurdjieff had not told someone, who told someone else, who finally told me, how to unroll the reels and look at the shadows of forgotten selves buried in the unconscious memory, there would never have been that [success].”30 There is no direct evidence that the person who learned from Gurdjieff and told Heap must have been Orage, but given Heap’s friendship with Orage, it is much the likeliest hypothesis. As it happens, a similar discipline is twice mentioned by Iamblichus as being a Pythagorean technique.31 In the first instance, the Pythagorean task is given as performed on waking up and then reviewing the previous day, but in the second it is presented as an evening’s review of the day. Given the evidence of Gurdjieff’s knowledge of Neoplatonism (see Section 3.3), coincidental devising of an almost identical method is not plausible. Gurdjieff did not appear in Russia in 1911 with an entire panoply of methods and exercises. But he did have principles, and these allowed him to fashion instruments as he saw a need. It seems likely that Orage’s experiments showed Gurdjieff a need and indicated the direction of the solution. He was continuing a trajectory Gurdjieff had initiated and did it so well that it gained a new momentum. Heap continued to teach the “dying daily” exercise, as did Annie-Lou Staveley, her pupil.32

5.4 The Herald of Coming Good I shall delay consideration of the 1931 edition of Beelzebub until Chapter 6, as it benefits from comparison with the 1950 publication. The earlier edition preceded Gurdjieff’s booklet The Herald of Coming Good, which was meant to prepare a path in the wilderness for that book. Herald does not enjoy an enviable reputation as literature, an opinion Gurdjieff perhaps shared, for within a year of its release he “repudiated [it] and [had it] withdrawn from circulation.”33 Webb wrote that, in some respects at least, it was “confusing,” showed “symptoms of paranoia,” and at times was “deliberately boastful,” and although it purported to provide a “skeleton chronology,” it was too ambiguous to be of value.34 Webb avers: The style and the presentation were intimidating. The prose was, if anything, more rambling and less consequential than that of Beelzebub’s Tales. Gurdjieff now had no Orage to structure his sentences for him, and an uninitiated reader . . . might well be forgiven for thinking that at best he had stumbled on the folly of a peculiar monomaniac.35

To an extent, the difficulty of Gurdjieff’s prose, both here and elsewhere, is a function of his basic principle that one had to struggle to hear his ideas and to understand them (see Section 1.1). This, however, fails to explain the tone, which is often simply off-putting, for example referring to his pupils as “trained and freely moving ‘Guinea Pigs’, allotted to me by Destiny for my experiments.”36 To some extent, Gurdjieff will have erred in judgment, and to an extent, Ouspensky may have been correct to say: “All great men have their weaknesses. G.’s weakness was his conviction that he could write if he wished—the very thing he could not do.”37 The booklet was intended to achieve two related goals: to raise money for his projects, not the least the revival of the Institute, and to arouse interest in the publication of Gurdjieff’s All and Everything, comprising three series of writings in ten books: Beelzebub, Meetings, and Life Is Real.38 Despite later assertions that it was intended to promote Beelzebub alone, the contents show that that was clearly not the case.39 To this end, the book included seven “registration blanks.” The first page of blanks was headed “for a preliminary subscription to the books of the first series” and included questions such as how registrants knew of Gurdjieff’s ideas, and whether they were in one of the groups.40 This is a fairly clear indication that not only did Gurdjieff hope to obtain a significant subscription in advance of publication, but that he hoped to be able to follow it up through organized groups. Gurdjieff therefore had great hopes for his Herald: He had expended a significant sum of money on it, at a time when he was so short of funds that he had endangered his base at the Prieuré.41 He asked his pupil C. S. Nott to send it to everyone interested in his ideas. When Nott asked whether this included Ouspensky’s pupils, Gurdjieff said yes; however, “the silence of its reception was almost deafening,” and Ouspensky had his pupils’ copies destroyed.42 According to Webb, Gurdjieff’s American pupils, then his main body, were shocked by the revelations that Gurdjieff had been a professional hypnotist, and his candid avowal of having used them (his pupils) for his own ends, with the result that “its appearance in the spring of 1933 coincided with the biggest exodus of his American pupils.”43 Ouspensky conjectured from it that Gurdjieff had acquired syphilis and gone mad.44 Not only did the reaction to this booklet so unnerve Gurdjieff that he had it withdrawn, it seems to have also been the cause of his decision to delay the publication of Beelzebub.45 I would conjecture that Gurdjieff needed, at this point, to persuade people to assist him, and for this he needed both an element of continuity (as his target audience was those who were interested in his ideas) and also one of discontinuity (as his closing of the Institute and unpredictability had disillusioned many people). There is a tension between these two desiderata, which required good judgment to resolve. Just when Gurdjieff needed to be clearer, he opted to be even more opaque and eccentric. The only conclusion

is the one he himself came to: With this booklet, he had miscalculated. If Gurdjieff’s state of mind was, indeed, disturbed when he wrote Herald, this might explain why, together with the meanderings and obscurities, there are sections that seem candid and unguarded, or at least make assertions to which he consistently held—for example, the oath made in 1912, which was probably not to use hypnotism to achieve his ends, and his plans for the revived Institute.46 Lipsey is of the view that some of its contents are not only valuable but essential for understanding Gurdjieff’s program.47 Nott conceded that “The long, almost interminable sentences make it difficult to read, let alone understand”; however, he adds that “even in its rough, uncut form truth glows through.”48 Significantly, in his eight-page summary of Herald, Nott omits any reference to Transformedcontemplation, which is further reason to believe that Gurdjieff had not, at this point of his life, been teaching it; otherwise Nott would probably have noticed it.

5.5 Transformed-Contemplation As indicated, some of Herald is lucid—for example, this passage, which we can take as our starting point: The modern man does not think, but something thinks for him; he does not act, but something acts through him; he does not create, but something is created through him; he does not achieve, but something is achieved through him.49

Each phrase here has clear meaning. He continues: We receive impressions in our thinking, feeling, and moving brains, and these give rise to associations that elicit our imagined conscious thought, behavior, and planning.50 The language, so far merely prolix, now becomes rather cloudier. As I understand him, Gurdjieff states that there are three types of impression possible for us: The first two are impressions caused by the external world, and impressions in which previously received associations mix with impressions of the external or internal world. For example, Ouspensky noted that impressions of smell cannot be directly received by the intellectual center, only by the instinctive.51 However, once the instinctive center has received the impression, then other centers (e.g., the intellectual and emotional) can respond to it, providing, I suggest, an example of mixed external and internal impressions. But the most significant category of impressions for our purposes is the final category, that which “originates exclusively from the process of so-called ‘transformed-contemplation’ ” [my italics].52 As we saw in Section 2.7, Gurdjieff placed some weight on the idea of three foods (ordinary eatables and drink, air, and impressions) and the concept that their conscious ingestion and metabolism would lead to the formation of what he called “higher-being-bodies.” Gurdjieff returned to impressions when he offered what seems to be a definition of Transformedcontemplation as “the confrontation of homogeneous impressions of all origins, which were already fixed, while continuous contact is maintained between their inner and separate centers.”53 The essential element of this equation is placed at the end: There is a sustained attention given simultaneously to mind, feeling, and body. This, I suggest, is one of two possible grounds of criticism of Orage’s exercises; first, that they did not exercise three centers at once, and second, that they do not call one to sense their presence. In my terms, they were “tasks” or, at most, “disciplines.” Of course, this charge could also be leveled at the exercises given at the Prieuré. It seems that experience had shown Gurdjieff the value of expanding his previous methods. In Herald, Transformed-contemplation also requires a certain knowledge and system—which is what I understand by the reference to fixed “homogenous impressions.” That is, Gurdjieff grandiloquently refers to something that has been learned and now guides or informs the attention: This is, I suggest, the “confrontation” in question. The homogeneity of the impressions may also mean that the impressions in question are from the higher range of possible impressions, for there is an entire range of impressions from H48 through H3.54 Gurdjieff does not explain much of the theoretical background in Herald, but he had told Ouspensky that while we cannot feed on higher nourishment and air than what the body now feeds on, we can receive higher impressions, and so it is these that will facilitate the better work of the alchemical factory that the human organism is: [One] can improve his impressions to a very high degree and in this way introduce fine “hydrogens” into the organism. It is precisely on this that the possibility of evolution is based. A man is not at all obliged to feed on the full impressions of H48, he can have both H24, H12, and H6, and even H3.55

Thus far, what Gurdjieff has written in Herald about Transformed-contemplation is consistent with what he had earlier taught. The Russian teaching also elucidates what is meant by “confrontation” here: It is “confrontation . . . while continuous contact is maintained between their inner and separate centers.”56 To Ouspensky, Gurdjieff had said that we live as a duality, full of inner conflicts—for example, “Thoughts oppose feelings. Moving impulses oppose instinctive craving for quiet.”57 This can be changed if we first destroy our self-deceit and conviction that our mechanical actions are conscious, and we ourselves are now “single and whole.”58 This undeceiving of ourselves will be productive if we oppose to our automatic nature: “a definite decision, coming from conscious motives, against mechanical processes.”59 He goes on to say:

The development of the human machine and the enrichment of being begins with a new and unaccustomed functioning of this machine. We know that a man has five centers: the thinking, the emotional, the moving, the instinctive, and the sex. The predominant development of any one center at the expense of the others produces an extremely one-sided type of man, incapable of further development. But if a man brings the work of the five centers within him into harmonious accord, he then “locks the pentagram within him” and becomes a finished type of the physically perfect man. The full and proper functioning of five centers brings them into union with the higher centers which introduce the missing principle and put man into direct and permanent connection with objective consciousness and objective knowledge.60

Here Gurdjieff speaks of five centers. Later, he will tend to speak of three, leaving the instinctive and sex centers aside, for the sake of clearer exposition. The point is that Transformed-contemplation requires the three centers to come into a harmonious engagement: I would also suggest that it is precisely in this engagement or confrontation that Transformed-contemplation acquires the character of an exercise, something requiring the sustained inner effort of intention and attention. But why Transformed-contemplation? I suggest that the first point is that Gurdjieff wished to distinguish it from contemplation simpliciter. Thus, later in Herald, he criticizes the techniques for “self-training and self-development” that have appeared and that “recommend definite methods and processes, such as various physical exercises, exercises in meditation and concentration, breathing exercises, various systems of diet.”61 Then there is the issue of the word “transformed.” What is actually transformed: the person undertaking it, the contemplation, or both, or something else? I suggest it is something of both, for the concern is the state of consciousness. Gurdjieff states: One of the three states of consciousness, which, in the objective sense, is considered the highest and most desirable for man, reposes exclusively on associations of previously perceived impressions of the third category only.62

As this third category of impressions is the fruit of Transformed-contemplation, it would seem to follow that the exercitants are themselves transformed in that a higher state of consciousness becomes available to them. Gurdjieff then speaks about how poor a life it is to have only the lower states of consciousness. However, it may yet be that one could think of the contemplation as “transformed” in that it is not contemplation as we know it. In Herald, using the identical terms employed in the Institute Prospectus (see Section 4.5), Gurdjieff was quite critical of known meditative and contemplative methods.63 It may not be too bold to say that, by the time he came to write Herald, Gurdjieff had decided that some contemplative technique was necessary, and that it would need to be adapted to the needs and condition of each individual.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63.

Tchekhovitch (2006) 118–119 corrected by reference to Tchechovitch (2003) 254–255. The English “translation” is once more simply mendacious. Webb (1980) 239. Gurdjieff (unpublished) 9; see Section 4.5. Gurdjieff (1963) 117. Orage (1998) 15. Webb (1980) 309. Orage (1998) 7. Orage (1998) 8. Orage (1998) 9–10. Orage (1998) 11–18. Orage (1998) 19–30. Orage (1998) 31–36. Orage (1998) 37–38. Orage (1998) 39–51. Orage (1998) 37. Orage (1998) 52, cf. Ouspensky (1950) 19. Munson (1985) 259. Munson does not name the magazine, but Taylor (2001) 98 does. Copies of unpublished letters kindly made available to me by Barbara Todd Smyth. Munson (1985) 259. Orage (1998) 61–64. Orage (1998) 65–68. Webb (1980) 365. Orage (2016) 375. Orage (1998) 105. Orage (1998) 105–106. Orage (1998) 106–107. Orage (1998) 107. Orage (1998) 108. Hulme (1997) 39. Hulme (1997) 43. Iamblichus (1991) 179 and 249. Heap (1994) 20 and 36 and personal knowledge of Mrs. Staveley and her teaching. Bennett (1973) 1. Webb (1980) 27, 45, 76–77, and 420. Moore (1991) 247–248 writes to like effect. Webb (1980) 427. Gurdjieff (1933) 22. Patterson (2014) 518. The most incisive and insightful analysis is still that of Bennett (1973) 90 and 180–181. Gurdjieff (1933) 33–53. Characteristically, Webb (1980) 426–427 does not misstate a single fact, but Moore (1991) 247 does. Gurdjieff (1933) unnumbered pages at the end. Nott (1969) 59; Webb (1980) 422–427; Taylor (2008) 276–277. Nott (1969) 59. Webb (1980) 427. Moore (1991) 249. Webb (1980) 428–429. That the shock caused by Herald led Gurdjieff to postpone the appearance of Beelzebub is my own inference from the fact that Herald had been intended to whet appetites for Beelzebub’s imminent release. No other conclusion seems available. Webb (1980) 91, plus Gurdjieff (1975) 25, and Bennett (1973) 148 and 180. Lipsey (2019) 27. Nott (1969) 60. Gurdjieff (1933) 31. Gurdjieff (1933) 31–32. Ouspensky (1949) 227. Gurdjieff (1933) 32. Gurdjieff (1933) 32. Ouspensky (1949) 321. Ouspensky (1949) 321. Gurdjieff (1933) 32. Ouspensky (1949) 281. Ouspensky (1949) 282. Ouspensky (1949) 282. Ouspensky (1949) 282. Gurdjieff (1933) 35–36. Gurdjieff (1933) 32. Gurdjieff (1933) 35–36.

6 The First Series Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson

6.1 Introduction Gurdjieff referred, in Herald of Coming Good, to three series of books, the first of which comprised three volumes “under the title of ‘An Objectively-Impartial Criticism of the Life of Man,’ or, ‘Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson’.” The stated aim of the first series was “Mercilessly, without any compromise whatsoever, to extirpate from the mentation and feeling of man the previous, century-rooted views and beliefs about everything existing in the world.”1 Its first edition was sold in a limited edition, to Orage’s US groups in 1931.2 A revised version was issued posthumously in 1950. It is the first and by far the longest of Gurdjieff’s three series of writings. The second series, which was to comprise three books under the title Meetings with Remarkable Men, intended “To furnish the material required for a new creation and to prove its soundness and good quality.” The third series, to comprise four volumes titled Life Is Real Only Then, When “I Am,” was to “contribute to the arising in the mentation and feeling of man of an authentic and correct representation of the World existing in reality and not that illusory one, which according to the affirmation and proof of the author is perceived by all people.”3 Orage, who worked closely with Gurdjieff on the English version of Beelzebub, said to members of his group in New York that it was to be read “with three centers,” explaining as follows: Remember how you listened to stories heard, when you were a child—so that you participated, your hair stood on end and your eyes shone, and you wept. That is reading with all three centers and Gurdjieff would hope the book reading could be of that order. . . . the difference between a child’s appreciation and that necessary for this book is that it requires a developed psyche really to sympathize with the characters of this book.4

Two chief aspects of Beelzebub are significant for this study: Gurdjieff’s comments on what he was pleased to call “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation,” and the Genuine Being Duty Exercise.

6.2 Aiëssirittoorassnian-Contemplation In Beelzebub, Gurdjieff stated: [T]he substances needed both for coating and for perfecting the higher-being-body Kesdjan enter into their [i.e., humanity’s] common presences through their, as they say, “breathing,” and through certain what are called “pores” of their skin. And the sacred cosmic substances required for the coating of the highest-being-body, which sacred being-part of theirs . . . they call soul, can be assimilated and correspondingly transformed and coated in them . . . exclusively only from the process of what is called “Aiëssirittoorassnian-Contemplation” actualized in their common presence by the cognized intention on the part of all their spiritualized independent parts.5

Related to this is his comment: [T]here disappeared from their common presences not only the striving itself for perfection but also the possibility of what is called “intentional contemplativeness,” which is just the principal factor for the assimilation of those cosmic substances.6

Gurdjieff never explains or even paraphrases the term “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation.” He coined over two hundred neologisms but rarely elucidated their meaning. Sometimes the roots are clear, but on other occasions they are not. To add to the confusion, when he did indicate the roots of a word, it might be only to show that it was nonsense, and that attempts to find some deeper significance in it would be futile.7 In an earlier study, I concluded that it could have been Gurdjieff’s intention to qualify “contemplation” as “Aiëssirittoorassnian” simply to distinguish it from other forms of contemplation, “while hinting that the very first element is related to the idea, found on the same page of his book, of the soul being supported by something in the blood.”8 Further, the term “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation” is not found in the 1931 edition.9 There are several noteworthy features of this passage: 1. The emphasis on the essential nature of the air, or more precisely of certain substances in it, for the development of the “higher-being-body Kesdjan” 2. The statement that the pores of the skin are one avenue for the reception of these substances 3. The idea that the substances must not only be received but also “assimilated and correspondingly transformed and coated” 4. That this process (ingestion, assimilation, transformation, and coating) is effected by “the cognized intention on the part of all their spiritualized independent parts” 5. That Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation is necessary for the stated benefit.

In respect of these points, I make the following comments. 6.2.1 The Air In 1915, Gurdjieff said to Ouspensky that a man who follows the fourth way knows quite definitely what substances he needs for his aims and he knows that these substances can be produced within the body by a month of physical suffering, by a week of emotional strain, or by a day of mental exercises—and also that they can be introduced into the organism from without it if it is known how to do it. And so, instead of spending a whole day in exercises like the yogi, a week in prayer like the monk, or a month in self-torture like the fakir, he simply prepares and swallows a little pill which obtains all the substances he wants, and in this way, without loss of time, he obtains the required results.10

Consistently, on January 13, 1936, he told Solano that yogis, being unaware of the secrets he had learned and taught as the sole representative of the Fourth Way, would spend three hours each day trying to “learn how to use air,” but that “With my secret short-cuts they could do this in five minutes—in fact, like magic, drink the active elements they need from air out of a glass.”11 Note that Gurdjieff does not teach here how to obtain the substances from the air, for the purpose of Beelzebub was not to teach the new ideas so much as to critique existing life. But, as the comment to Solano shows, the idea of extracting substances from the air was still in his mind. Of some significance, in the 1931 edition of Beelzebub, the characters meet in the “Djamdjampal” to eat the “second-and-first-being-foods”12—that is, air and eatables. Later, they repair to the “Djameechoonatra,” which is described as “a kind of terrestrial ‘monasterial refectory’ in which the second-being-food is collectively taken.”13 Almost identical passages are found in the 1950 edition.14 In other words, there are two dining rooms, and in both of them the air is, so to speak, on the menu. But the Djameechoonatra is reserved for the ingestion of the air. Not until Life Is Real and from about 1939 do explicit instructions survive. The evidence, however, leaves little doubt that by 1931 Gurdjieff has decided to use some sort of exercise for the absorption of higher hydrogens from the air, and that he possessed the theory by 1915. Further, it was to be done in seclusion from the social domain—that is, not engaged in life activities, even if others were also present, for they too were absorbing the air. In the 1950 edition, Gurdjieff added something absent from the 1931, that due to the disharmonizing of the fifth point of the octave, the Law of Seven required any process to unfold in calm if it was to give internal results (see Section 2.2). This is a theoretical basis for the employment of exercises in seclusion. 6.2.2 The Pores of the Skin Gurdjieff returns to the idea that we also breathe through our skin in the chapter “Russia” in Beelzebub. He adds that one also exhales air through the pores, and since we now wear clothes that hinder that release of used air, it is necessary to use a method such as the steam bath to cleanse the pores.15 Gurdjieff followed his own advice, having a weekly steam while at the Prieuré, and being a regular visitor to steam baths when he was in New York.16 6.2.3 The Assimilation of the Higher Hydrogens in the Air Gurdjieff later gave precise indications as to assimilating substances ingested from the air (see Section 11.2). In Herald, however, the point of Transformed-contemplation had been to absorb impressions. The two purposes are not inimical, but the variance does suggest that Gurdjieff had not settled his plans for these exercises. 6.2.4 The Necessity of “a Cognized Intention” Gurdjieff insisted on this point, expanding it to include what we might call a “cognized feeling” (see Section 10.4). 6.2.5 The Necessity of Contemplation This is the first time Gurdjieff has stated that contemplation was necessary. It is totally absent from In Search of the Miraculous or any of the books by people who were with Gurdjieff between 1915 and 1930. When he taught George Adie the Four Ideals Exercise in 1948, he stated that at the end of the exercise it is necessary to remain in the collected state for between ten and fifteen minutes, so that the results of the exercise will not have been in vain (see Chapter 13). This, I suggest, must be at least an aspect of “intentional contemplativeness,” the uncouth phrase he coined for Beelzebub.17 Gurdjieff does not directly state that Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation is the same as his First Assisting Exercise, but I submit that there are three reasons to conclude that it at least includes that exercise. First, the affirmation “I am,” which is central to that exercise, is fundamental to all the contemplation-like techniques which Gurdjieff taught. Second, the Preparing the Soil and First Assisting Exercise exercises fit the description of “cognized intention on the part of all their spiritualized independent parts” (i.e., intellect, feeling, and physical sensation), which were mentioned as necessary in Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation. Third, Gurdjieff elsewhere relates the formation of the soul to the sense of presence of oneself, and specifically, the sense of “I am.” Thus, in Life Is Real, Gurdjieff quotes

some “ancient Persian verses” concerning the soul: “Leader of the will, its presence is ‘I Am’.”18 Determinative, however, is the exercise of 1939, “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing,” which I treat in Chapter 10. However, some of it must be cited now in order to elucidate what Gurdjieff meant by Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation: Breathe in—“I.” Breathe out—“am.” With all three parts do. Not just mind. Feeling and body also . . . When doing, must be very careful not to change exterior. It is inner thing. No one need know. Outside keep same exterior. Inside you do. . . . To arouse feeling, interest, and attention for cooperation you must think the following before beginning: “I am now about to begin this exercise. With full attention I will draw in my breath, saying ‘I,’ and sensing the whole of myself. I wish very much to do this in order that I may digest air. . . . I am now about to begin this exercise, which I have been fortunate enough to learn from Mr. Gurdjieff, and which will enable me with the aid of conscious labor, to coat higher bodies in myself from active elements in the air I breathe.”

The parallel between this passage and the one in Beelzebub where Gurdjieff speaks of Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation is quite precise. In each case the desired end result is the formation of higher bodies, in each case there is a process, the element of intention is critical, and all parts of the person must join in. The exercise commences with the words “I am” said as one inhales and exhales, consistent with future studies that shall show that the “I Am” Exercise was the basis of Gurdjieff’s inner exercises, if not indeed of his entire teaching, as Frank Sinclair, president emeritus of the Gurdjieff Foundation in New York, believes.19

6.3 The Genuine Being Duty Exercise In Chapter VII of the First Series, Beelzebub notices that his grandson, Hassein, is disturbed. Hassein explains, inter alia, that: Only now have I come very clearly to understand that everything we have at the present time and everything we use—in a word, all the contemporary amenities and everything necessary for our comfort and welfare—have not always existed and did not make their appearance so easily. It seems that certain beings in the past have during very long periods labored and suffered very much for this, and endured a great deal which perhaps they even need not have endured. . . . And now not only do we not thank them, but we do not even know a thing about them, but take it all as in the natural order, and neither ponder nor trouble ourselves about this question at all. . . . And so . . . there has arisen in me . . . the need to make clear to my Reason why I personally have all the comforts which I now use, and what obligations I am under for them. It is just because of this that at the present moment there proceeds in me a “process of remorse.”20

Beelzebub explains to his grandson that he is too young to tackle such questions right now; he must wait until he is older and capable of “active mentation.”21 He goes on to state: The time of your present age is not given you in which to pay for your existence, but for preparing yourself for the future, for the obligations becoming to a responsible three-brained being. So in the meantime, exist as you exist. Only do not forget one thing, namely, at your age it is indispensably necessary that every day, at sunrise, while watching the reflection of its splendor, you bring about a contact between your consciousness and the various unconscious parts of your general presence. Try to make this state last and to convince the unconscious parts—not [sic] as if they were conscious—that if they hinder your general functioning, they, in the period of your responsible age, not only cannot fulfill the good that befits them, but your general presence of which they are part, will not be able to be a good servant of our COMMON ENDLESS CREATOR and by that will not even be worthy to pay for your arising and existence.22

The 1931 edition reads: [D]o not forget one thing and that is, very often with the consciousness you already have, persuade the unconscious parts of your general “presence” that if these unconscious parts hinder their whole presence, then when this whole presence becomes a responsible cosmic individuum will be unable to pay for its existence as it should, and in consequence be unable to be a good servant to our Common Endless Creator.23

There are a number of differences, but the two most important are, first, that a general instruction becomes a daily exercise to be done at sunrise, and, second, that the state of contact between conscious and unconscious parts is to be made lasting. That is, what was a discipline becomes an instance of Transformed-contemplation, as I have defined the terms in Section 0.2. Although there is no reference to the formation of a soul, yet there is the simultaneous exercising, with intention and attention, of subtle parts of the psyche. This takes it beyond a discipline such as the Dying Daily Exercise (see Section 5.3). This is the first truly contemplative exercise for which there is evidence in Gurdjieff’s corpus. The exercises we shall see from Third Series can be attempted in the social domain of life. However, in Section 10.2, we meet a contemplative exercise for energy and clarification of one’s aim from 1930, and then there is an apparent dearth until 1939 and the exercise titled “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing.” There was a puzzling exchange about the Genuine Being Duty exercise in a group meeting of April 20, 1944:

MME. DAVID: What must one do to follow the advice you give in your book; to persuade all the matters, all

the unconscious parts of one’s presence, to work as if they were conscious, and so on? GURDJIEFF: It is not my book, it is Mr. Beelzebub’s, and it is advice which he is giving to his grandson. MME. DAVID: Then it is only for his grandson? GURDJIEFF: Beelzebub will explain it to you. As for me, I give you another piece of advice: get accustomed

to calling Beelzebub, “my dear grandfather.” That will help you. The condition is that you address him respectfully . . . Then perhaps he will answer.24 I am unsure what to make of this. Despite this reply, Gurdjieff stated to a newspaper reporter, on January 28, 1931, in the United States: “I am Beelzebub traveling the solar system, telling my grandson the history of all the countries we pass.”25 One would have thought that this correct: Surely Gurdjieff does speak through the mouth of Beelzebub.26 But why does he neither encourage nor dissuade Mme. David from attempting this exercise? The exercise is no mere after-thought. It is deceptively simple, for it assumes that the unconscious apparatus (including the body) is capable of entering into a quasi-conscious relationship with the mind, and, in some fashion, understanding concepts such as “good,” “befitting,” the “Common Creator,” and being worthy to pay for one’s birth and existence. Gurdjieff returned to this type of exercise on December 9, 1943, when a member of one of his groups said that she wished to be liberated from a “haunting image” (see Section 11.11). This technique of speaking to oneself, as if to a third party, was also taught by George Adie.27 It was evidently Gurdjieff’s choice in this, his First Series, which was intended as a critique, if not an outright satire of life on earth, to declare that contemplation was necessary, but not to teach it. Some of the basic elements of his technique were in fact obscurely disclosed, but they were not given when he mentioned either Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation or intentional contemplativeness. It would not be surprising if Gurdjieff had intended that the reader could make the connection only on the repeated readings that Gurdjieff advised. From his perspective, if one missed the connection through inattention, that itself was significant and showed that the reader was not ready. It was in the Third Series that Gurdjieff would clearly set out his exercises. But it is significant that Gurdjieff has now taken the step of referring to a “Djameechoonatra,” where people foregather to consciously breathe, and that it is termed a kind of “monasterial” refectory. Although Gurdjieff cannot bring himself to write “monastic,” nonetheless it seems that the monastery has found a discrete place within the Fourth Way.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27.

Gurdjieff (1933) 48–49. Taylor (2007) 202–203. Gurdjieff (1933) 48. Orage (2016) 369. Gurdjieff (1950) 569, with added italics. Gurdjieff (1950) 783. Azize (2016a) 144. Azize (2016a) 145. Gurdjieff (1931). Ouspensky (1949) 50–51. Anonymous (2012) 21. Gurdjieff (1931) 829. Gurdjieff (1931) 919. Gurdjieff (1950) 1054 and 1160. Gurdjieff (1950) 647–648. Hulme (1997) 133–134 and Taylor (2007) 274. Gurdjieff (1950) 783. Gurdjieff (1975) 160. Sinclair (2009) passim but see especially 1–9. Gurdjieff (1950) 76–77. Beelzebub says: “You (will) actively mentate about them”; Gurdjieff (1950) 77. Gurdjieff (1950) 77–78. “Not” is an error for “now,” although deletion of the entire word is recommended by the Guide and Index prepared by the Toronto Gurdjieff group, under the direction of Louise Welch, a personal pupil of Orage and Gurdjieff: Welch (2003) 527. Gurdjieff (1931) 67. Gurdjieff (2009) 128–129. Taylor (2007) 197. The saying that he was Beelzebub was meant to be iconoclastic. It was, I think, a miscalculation: Gurdjieff meant that Beelzebub was an erring rather than a fallen angel, who had learned the error of his ways, done his penance, and so was redeemed. But the use of a devil as his hero has been too redolent of diabolism. See, for example, Adie and Azize (2015) 283–284.

7 The Soil Preparing Exercise from the Third Series

7.1 Introduction The Third Series, or Life Is Real Only Then, When “I Am,” was first published in an edition of 170 pages, in 1975, by Triangle Editions, although the book was printed by the firm E. P. Dutton. Apparently there was a second edition printed in 1978. Although no copy is available to me, the 1981 edition by Routledge & Kegan Paul is thought to reproduce the second edition.1 The 1981 edition seems to most differ from the 1975 in that in it the final essay, “The Outer and Inner World of Man,” is almost eight pages longer, but the foreword by Jeanne de Salzmann is approximately two pages shorter. Beneath the details of publication, the 1981 edition bears a note, the last sentence of which reads: “This second edition includes the additional ten pages from the end of the final chapter of the French (Paris 1976) edition.” Those additional pages, numbering only eight in English, have been of great value in this study, especially in understanding Gurdjieff’s idea of Transformed-contemplation, and in dealing with the Color Spectrum Exercise. As there is no publicly available collection of Gurdjieff’s surviving manuscripts, there is no certainty that all the material he wanted to include in this series has been published, even now. Opposite the table of contents in each volume is found the following note: No one interested in my writings should ever attempt to read them in any other than the indicated order; in other words, he should never read anything written by me before he already well acquainted with the earlier works.—G. I. Gurdjieff

The paperback edition of 1999 published by Penguin Arkana, and first published in the United States by Viking in 1991, is practically identical to the 1981 hardcover, except that it lacks a photograph of Gurdjieff, and beneath the “No one interested” note appears this additional quotation from Beelzebub, which was, one could infer, added to indirectly advise the reader to seek instruction in using the within material from first-generation pupils of Gurdjieff (i.e., his personal pupils). It reads: [A]s regards the real, indubitably comprehensible, genuine objective truths which will be brought to light by me in the third series, I intend to make them accessible exclusively only to those from among the hearers of the second series of my writings who will be selected by specially prepared people according to my considered instruction.2

Who these people were was not indicated, although Gurdjieff did nominate certain people as responsible for the promotion of Beelzebub, and he gave indications that Jeanne de Salzmann was his senior pupil.3 Despite what appears to be Gurdjieff’s clear statement that the Third Series was to be kept private, and used only under the direction of “specially prepared people,” de Salzmann wrote the foreword for this book and had it published. Although Gurdjieff had stated that the Third Series would be in four books, the published book comprises only one volume, which is not even the size of any of the three comprising Beelzebub. My own conjecture is that he had intended it to be longer, but when he lost the assistance of Orage, he had to be less ambitious. It is not certain that de Salzmann is correct in saying that the Third Series was unfinished; although the longer version of the chapter “The Outer and Inner World of Man” finishes in midsentence, this may be deliberate.4 It was advertised that Life Is Real would “contribute to the arising, in the mentation and feeling of man of an authentic and correct representation of the World existing in reality and not that illusory one, which . . . is perceived by all people.”5 Some of its contents do not seem to measure up to that, while some of the material does. In the form we have it, the Third Series comprises a very lengthy prologue of some fifty-six pages, five talks totaling some eighty-six pages, and a final thirty-five-page essay, “The Outer and Inner World of Man.” Neither the prologue nor the final essay is obviously connected to the five talks, which purport to be lectures given in the United States to the former Orage groups. Some of the material in the final essay is of value in understanding the rationale of the Color Spectrum Exercise, and so is dealt with in Chapter 15. In this and the next chapter, we shall chiefly be concerned with the third and fifth talks. Some of Gurdjieff’s chief biographers have made little or no use of the Third Series, Life Is Real Only Then, When “I Am.” Webb writes that the chapter on “The Four Bodies of Man” that Gurdjieff had written for it was said to have been destroyed by Gurdjieff himself, and says: “What remains of the Third Series is too incomplete to give any real idea of Gurdjieff’s intentions for the book.”6 James Moore evinces a somewhat casual treatment of the book. His verdict on it was: [He] breaks off “The Outer and Inner World of Man,” and jettisons his promised and eagerly anticipated revelations as to the Sarmoung Monastery and the secret needs and possibilities of man’s body, spirit, and soul—the very kernel of his esotericism. His own narrative freezes and the frame collapses—Gurdjieff simply disappears.7

Apart from the confected drama “Gurdjieff simply disappears,” to say that “the very kernel of his esotericism” was lost is to display an incomprehension of the exercises of the third and fifth talks. I note, too, that Taylor makes a fair argument for seeing a deliberate ploy in the incomplete final sentence of this

book, just at the moment of promising to reveal a secret.8

7.2 The Talks Taylor has shown the following: 1. The talks found in Life Is Real cannot have been delivered in 1930, as stated there. If they ever were given, then the earliest plausible date will have been 1931, but as some of those who were present in the groups Gurdjieff purports to have addressed have no recollection of these talks, it is more likely that they were not given as stated.9 2. In Life Is Real, Gurdjieff deliberately changes significant details, making it impossible to align what he says with what is otherwise known of his life. Bennett, who saw typescripts of the book, stated that these particular chapters were marked as having been written in 1933.10 3. Gurdjieff probably last put pen to paper for Life Is Real in April 1935.11

Before coming to the Soil Preparing Exercise itself, some features in the previous lectures set the stage for it. According to the headnote, the first talk was “delivered by me on November 28th, 1930, with free entrance . . . [to] the followers of my ideas.”12 There, Gurdjieff explains, inter alia, that at his Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man, pupils were sorted into three groups, exoteric or outer, mesoteric or middle, and esoteric or inner.13 The members of the third group “were to be initiated not only theoretically . . . but also practically, and to be introduced to all the means for a real possibility of selfperfecting.”14 Significantly, he goes on to state that with the members of the third group: “[I] intended to devote myself to the searching for means already accessible to everyone and to the applying of all that was learned thus and minutely verified for the welfare of all humanity.”15 That is, as I have been suggesting, even while at the Institute in the 1920s, Gurdjieff had not determined which methods were best for his purposes. The discourse continues in rather complex sentences, but Gurdjieff states that the program he had prepared for the Institute pupils would have shortly been put into practice, when he suffered his motor accident.16 He then sets out what he considers to be central concepts in his system, the need to practice “self-observation” and to “remember oneself.”17 If one can work conscientiously and with intensity, says Gurdjieff, a man need no longer remain what “in moments of self-sincerity he knows himself to be—an automatically perceiving and in everything manifesting himself domestic animal.”18 In the second talk, which is undated, and is said to have been addressed to “a much increased assemblage,”19 Gurdjieff relates his view of Orage’s conduct of the US groups and requires each of those present to sign a document declaring that they will have nothing to do with Orage or former members of his group, excepting those whose names would be on a list of the members of the “newly formed exoteric group.”20 There is evidence that there was such a meeting.21

7.3 The Soil Preparing Exercise We now come to the third talk, which purports to have been “delivered by me to a pretty rarefied assemblage.”22 It appears that the previous talks had not been calculated to inspire auditors to return. Gurdjieff states that if their gatherings were not to be merely “meetings for collective titillation,”23 they should read the three books of his first series, which he refers to as “An Objectively Impartial Criticism of the Life of Man.” This is necessary, he says, so that they can achieve “practical attainments” as they are now “seriously striving to take in what you have cognized . . . to [acquire] . . . your own real individuality, in order to manifest afterwards in everything in a way corresponding to a Godlike creature.”24 Then, painting a dire picture of their present situation, he avers that “even for you, everything is not yet lost.”25 They still have the possibility of entering “the new path of ‘evolutionary movement,’ . . . [having] at least some data for the acquisition of [your] own I.”26 For this fortunate result, Gurdjieff says, there are “seven psychic factors proper to man alone,”27 but he shall now speak only of three. After some lengthy comments, including a warning that to understand these words is a subtle matter, he denominates the three factors as “can,” “wish,” and “the entire sensing of the whole of oneself.”28 After elaborating what is meant by “I can” and “I wish,” Gurdjieff states: [T]he difficulty of a clear understanding of all this without a long and deep reflection and, in general, the complication of the process of standing on the right path for the obtaining in one’s common presence of factors for engendering even the first three, from the number of seven, impulses characterizing genuine man, derives, from the . . . fact that, on the one hand, these impulses can exist almost exclusively when one has one’s own genuine I and, on the other hand, the I can be in man almost exclusively when he has in him these three impulses.29

Gurdjieff now declares that he will teach them some of the exercises he had intended to explain to the mesoteric group. For these exercises it is necessary, he says, to concentrate one’s attention on three diverse objects for a definite time, and to assist in this, he teaches a “soil preparing exercise.”30 The exercise is, he states, but number four from a series; however, “on account of several misunderstandings in the past” he has to teach them this one.31 There are many such digressions in this book. The only discernible purpose for this tangent would be to provide a trap for the curious. I set out the exercise in smaller and numbered paragraphs for more convenient commentary:

1. First, all one’s attention must be divided approximately into three equal parts; each of these parts must be concentrated on one of the three fingers of the right or the left hand, for instance, the forefinger, the third and the fourth, constating in one finger—the result proceeding in it of the organic process called “sensing,” in another—the result of the process called “feeling,” and with the third—making any rhythmical movement and at the same time automatically conducting with the flowing of mental association a sequential or varied manner of counting.

Gurdjieff then states that “sensing” and “feeling” are often confused, but that they can be distinguished as follows: 2. A man “feels”—when what are called the “initiative factors” issue from one of the dispersed localizations of his common presence which in contemporary science are called the “sympathetic nerve nodes,” the chief agglomeration of which is known by the name of “solar plexus” and the whole totality of which functioning, in the terminology long ago established by me, is called the “feeling center”; and he “senses”—when the basis of the “initiative factors” is the totality of what are called “the motor nerve nodes” of the spinal and partly of the head brain, which is called according to this terminology of mine the “moving center.”32

Gurdjieff then declares that the listeners do not distinguish “the nature of . . . these two independent sources.”33 He then sets out the exercise: 3. [F]irst it is necessary to learn with what exists in you now only as a substitute, so to say “fulfilling the obligation” of what should, in a real man, be “self-willed attention” and in you is merely a “self-tenseness,” 4. simultaneously to observe three heterogeneous results proceeding in you, each coming from different sources of the general functioning or your whole presence: 5. namely, one part of this attention of yours should be occupied with the constatation of the proceeding-in-one-finger process of “sensing,” another with the constatation of the proceeding-in-another-finger process of “feeling,” and the third part should follow the counting of the automatic movement of the third finger. 6. . . . And for cognizing its importance and indispensability for you, as well as its real difficulty, it is necessary to do it many, many times. At the beginning, you must try all the time only to understand the sense and significance of this exercise, without expecting to obtain any concrete result. 7. As only an all-round understanding of the sense and significance of this fourth—and for you, first—exercise, as well as the ability to carry it out, will perforce make it easier for you to cognize the sense and significance, as well as the carrying out, of all the subsequent exercises which are required for the acquisition of one’s own individuality.

This exercise corresponds to what Ouspensky reported about the need to develop the lower centers, for it seems aimed at bringing the working of the three “lower” centers into a conscious harmony. There is no indication whether this exercise was to be performed seated, or in isolated conditions, or with eyes closed. Rather, Gurdjieff seems to have deliberately left it open to perform it in diverse manners—walking, running, resting, with eyes closed or open. Some comments are in order. 7.3.1 Distinguishing Sensation from Feeling The importance of being able to distinguish sensation from feeling is essential to Gurdjieff’s exercises, not because the difference in itself is critical, but because a distinct consciousness of each is necessary. Conscious “impulses” of sensation and feeling are necessary to facilitate a balanced presence, one not overly dominated by one of these or by the head.34 On January 20, 1923, in order to help his pupils at the Prieuré understand the difference, Gurdjieff addressed this question, but using an illustrative approach, and then differentiating sensation and feeling by reference to the “center” in which they are based. He gave six different examples of inner states: • • • • • •

The sensation of his muscles caused by his sitting in an unaccustomed posture The sense of warmth on his back from the stove behind it, as contrasted with the sensation of the cool air on the front of his body The sensation of his full stomach and his heavy breathing from having eaten a large meal A feeling that came up while he was cooking, recalling how his mother used to do so The feeling of self-satisfaction in seeing how his projected plans for a lamp were successfully realized The “pang of conscience” he felt when associations recalled to him an occasion when he had unjustifiably struck someone in the face.35

Gurdjieff then continued: Three of them [the examples] relate to the moving center and three to the emotional center. In ordinary language all six are called feelings. Yet in right classification those whose nature is connected with the moving center should be called sensations, and those whose nature comes from the emotional center—feelings. There are thousands of different sensations which are usually called feelings. They are all different, their matter is different, their effects different and their causes different.36

This is equivalent to what is said in this third talk about the place of origin of sensations and feelings, for the feeling center was there said to be based in the solar plexus and the moving center in the spine and head. The examples in this 1923 passage are arguably more helpful and accessible than the later exposition. Gurdjieff went on to say: For primary exercises in self-remembering the participation of all the three centers is necessary. We began to speak of the difference between feelings and sensations only because it is necessary to have simultaneously both feeling and sensation.37

This has the corollary that to remember oneself is to have an increase in conscious function, so that

more is held within the sphere of one’s awareness. The exercitant’s thought will participate in this state without having to make any further effort than that of having an intention and a desire to undertake the work.38 7.3.2 Controlled Attention It is important in Gurdjieff’s exercises that the attention be controlled. Although some of his comments on this topic are recounted in Miraculous,39 the most important treatment is probably that in The Psychology of Man’s Possible Evolution and The Fourth Way. Ouspensky says that each of the centers is, generally, divided into two broad parts: the positive and the negative. For example, when we eat, the positive part of the instinctive center responds with pleasure if the food is good, but the negative part of that center rejects rotten food. When we hear a proposition propounded, the positive part of intellectual center may agree, and the negative part disagree.40 Overlaying this division, the centers are further subdivided into higher (intellectual), middle (emotional), and mechanical (lower) parts. I will not repeat here the examples given.41 Controlled attention takes us into higher parts of each center. As the higher parts of centers are more closely connected, if the higher part of one center begins to operate, the higher parts of others may be more easily engaged.42 Ouspensky said: Mechanical parts [of centers] do not need attention. Emotional parts need strong interest or identification, attention without effort or intention, for attention is drawn and kept by the attraction of the object itself. And in the intellectual parts you have to control your attention.43 . . . if one could control the intellectual parts of all centers and make them work together, that would be a way to higher centers.44

This explains why the control of attention for a consciously formulated aim is basic in Transformedcontemplation. 7.3.3 Importance of Counting The counting has the effect of occupying the mind, as we saw in Section 5.2. Further, Gurdjieff places these ideas in the mouth of his friend Pogossian in Meetings with Remarkable Men: He never sat, as is said with folded arms, and one never saw him . . . reading diverting books which give nothing real. If he had no definite work to do, he would either swing his arms in rhythm, mark time with his feet or make all kinds of manipulations with his fingers. . . . [Pogossian said,] “I do this because I like work, but I like it not with my nature, which is just as lazy as that of other people and never wishes to do anything useful. I like work with my common sense. “Please bear in mind,” he added, “that when I use the word ‘I,’ you must understand it not as the whole of me but only as my mind. I love work and have set myself the task of being able, through persistence, to accustom my whole nature to love it and not my reason alone. “Further, I am really convinced that in the world no conscious work is ever wasted. . . . I also work because the only real satisfaction in life is to work not from compulsion by consciously; this is what distinguishes man from a Karabakh ass, which also works day and night.”45

The reference here is not to counting per se, but rather to intentional occupations such as making rhythmic movements; however, the principle is the same. Gurdjieff returned to counting exercises in 1943 (see Section 11.13). 7.3.4 Importance of Exercises The need to practice these exercises often is returned to later in the chapter on the Third Series (see Chapter 8) and in the transcripts of Gurdjieff’s later Paris meetings (see Chapter 11). Clearly, the Soil Preparing Exercise would be more aptly called an “internal” exercise for use in the social domain of life, rather than one that required secluded conditions, yet it could still be called “intentionally contemplative,” given our examination of the meaning of “contemplative” in Section 0.4. Although the exercise for aim and energy (see Chapter 10) requires strict seclusion for a period, and the Genuine Being Duty Exercise needs, I would suggest, the opportunity to be without distractions, Gurdjieff did not, so far as we can tell, give many exercises to be done in seclusion, before the mid-1930s with the Rope, and maybe not until a little later. However, after that period, he did fashion a good number.

7.4 Conjectured Sources In Section 9.4, I suggest that the other two Gurdjieff exercises from Life Is Real were adapted from two exercises found in the Philokalia. If that thesis is correct, then it is possible that this one, too, has a monastic origin. If it does, I would suggest the use of beads with the Jesus Prayer as a possible source. Both exercises, the Jesus Prayer and the Soil Preparing Exercise, involve an occupation for the intellect and counting. The rosary is specifically mentioned in The Way of a Pilgrim: The narrator states that he was told to pray three thousand, then six thousand, and finally twelve thousand times a day. When he did, “The thumb of my left hand, with which I counted my beads, hurt a little. I felt a slight inflammation in the whole of that wrist, and even up to the elbow, which was not unpleasant.”46 That is, the beads were used as an aid when

the Jesus Prayer was found problematic: They helped, perhaps, to train the attention, keeping it focused. Ouspensky recommended the use of beads “because by counting in this way it cannot escape attention.”47 This is probably because running beads through the fingers requires some consciousness of sensation. Interestingly, the words of the Jesus Prayer with the rosary provide the feeling element that Gurdjieff demands for his exercise. That is, the elements in the two sets of exercises match, although one is overtly religious and the other is not. As foreshadowed in Section 3.4, the evidence that Gurdjieff used beads in the 1930s is presented here. Hulme states: One day Gurdjieff gave to each one of us on the Rope a chaplet made of large black beads of some curious substance, upon which we were to do a special sensing exercise as we passed the beads between thumb and index finger. He told us how in the old times such chaplets were known as the Inanimate Helper, and that many kinds of inner-world work, far more difficult than our current exercises, were done with their aid. “You see men—Turk, Greek, Arab, Armenian—siting all day in the coffee house with such chaplets. To you they make a picture of the lazy man, but what they do with these beads creates an inner force you cannot imagine. Even some special holy men, initiate, of course, could move mountains if they wished, just sitting still, working with their chaplets, seeming half asleep.” He advised us to carry the chaplets with us everywhere, but not to make spectacles of ourselves doing the exercise visibly in public. “Carry in your pockets,” he counseled. “Such exercise as I have given, you can do anywhere in life—while sitting in café, theatre, on autobus . . . but do not let people see you do it. They do not understand.” So now we were doing the Work in the outside world, missing no opportunity to finger those beads hidden in purse or pocket, as if every minute counted.48

They were not the Catholic type of rosary. When Hulme showed them to Gurdjieff twelve years later, he gave her “quite the most lovely smile I have ever seen,” then, “as if caressing them, he passed a few beads through his fingers,” held them up for all to see, and said: “Is moth-er thing.”49 I do not know whether he means that his mother used them, or that faith is a mother, or something else again. No conclusive proof that the Soil Preparing Exercise is an adaptation of the beads is possible. One’s assessment of the likelihood of this conjecture will very much depend on what one makes of my thesis in Chapter 9.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49.

Taylor (2012) 73 and Driscoll (1985) 3–4. Gurdjieff (1950) 1238; to like effect, Gurdjieff (1933) 57. Yet, according to Gurdjieff, genuine authority should be “in accordance with . . . objective merits . . . personally acquired, and which [can] really be sensed by all the beings around them.” Gurdjieff (1950) 385. Gurdjieff (1975) xi–xiii and 177. Gurdjieff (1933) 48. Webb (1980) 544. Moore (1991) 257. Taylor (2007a) 121. Azize (2016b) 151–152. Azize (2016b) 151–152. Taylor (2014) 105. Gurdjieff (1975) 73. Gurdjieff (1975) 77. Gurdjieff (1975) 77. Gurdjieff (1975) 77–78. Gurdjieff (1975) 80–81. Gurdjieff (1975) 82. Gurdjieff (1975) 83. Gurdjieff (1975) 89. Gurdjieff (1975) 90–101, citing 101. See Section 1.5, and Gurdjieff (1975) 92–96. Gurdjieff (1975) 102. Gurdjieff (1975) 102. Gurdjieff (1975) 103. Gurdjieff (1975) 107. Gurdjieff (1975) 109. Gurdjieff (1975) 109. Gurdjieff (1975) 109–111. Gurdjieff (1975) 112. Gurdjieff (1975) 113. Gurdjieff (1975) 113. Gurdjieff (1975) 114. Note the clearer example in Early Talks. Gurdjieff (1975) 114. Ouspensky (1949) 282. Gurdjieff (2014) 204. Gurdjieff (2014) 204–205. Gurdjieff (2014) 205. Gurdjieff (2014) 205. Ouspensky (1949) 56, 109. Ouspensky (1957) 61 and (1950) 108. Ouspensky (1957) 61–66 and (1950) 108–114. Ouspensky (1957) 61, 64 and (1950) 108 and 110. Ouspensky (1957) 62. Ouspensky (1957) 64. Gurdjieff (1963) 107. Anonymous (1930) 14. Ouspensky (1952) 298. Hulme (1997) 90. Hulme (1997) 224.

8 The First Assisting Exercise from the Third Series

8.1 Introduction The two “assisting exercises” of the Third Series appear in the “fifth talk,” ostensibly dated December 19, 1930. When the rubric asserts that it was “to the same group,” this refers back to the subheading of the “fourth talk,” which reads: “Delivered by me on December 12th, 1930, at a meeting of a newly formed group, to which were again admitted the members of the so-called Orage group. The place was crowded in the extreme.” So these exercises were allegedly taught in the United States in 1930 to members of an Orage group. The fifth talk opens in language that can neutrally be described as “roundabout,” but one might fairly term it “verbose.” Gurdjieff opens by indicating that he intends to ask those present how they found the exercise given in his third talk (the Soil Preparing Exercise). However, before asking, he means to teach them “two other independent exercises which were in the general program of the Institute . . . but which belonged to quite a different series of exercises . . . [and comprised] ‘assisting means’ for acquiring one’s own real I.”1 As we shall see, the first of these exercises could fairly be termed “internal,” and it forms part of the foundation for the contemplative exercises that were to follow. There is not the slimmest evidence that either exercise was in fact ever used at the Institute. Gurdjieff evokes an ambience of high and hoary mystery around the exercises by linking them to “secrets” that have been kept “from the dawn of centuries” by “initiates” and that could “prove ruinous” to the “average man.”2 Gurdjieff explains the distinction of these initiates into three groups (Saints, Learned, and Sages),3 a matter that is of no relevance for the exercises, suggesting that his purpose may be to provide “enchantment” and to position himself as a “mythologized persona . . . steeped in a magical aura.”4 However, it may be simpler: Although Gurdjieff did use the allure of the exotic East, a simple reading of this exercise shows that there is not, pace Owen, anything of the Crowley-type mage about him. More simply, Gurdjieff’s purpose seems to be to provide obstacles so that the reader had to struggle to understand the material (see Section 1.1), and, just possibly, to increase one’s valuation of the exercise. A further two pages intervene before the exercise is given. The details on these pages are significant: They amount to declaring that the exercises rely on “self-deception,”5 and that this paradoxical method is necessary because he must find a way to bypass “the ordinary consciousness of a man, which for the given case has almost no significance” and reach the “subconscious.”6 [A]s a means for self-perfecting man can use a certain property which is in his psyche and which is even of a very negative character. This property . . . is none other than that which I have many times condemned . . . and is called “self-deception.”7

This “self-deception” is an aspect, I would suggest, of the “suggestibility” we considered in Section 4.7. Continuing the exercise, Gurdjieff states that it has, over centuries: been experimentally proven by persons of Pure Reason, to use a special means for inculcating in his subconsciousness some reasonable indication grasped by his ordinary consciousness and not contradictory to his instinct, and this can be done only by means of this self-deceptive imaginativeness inherent in him.8

There are several significant points here. First, Gurdjieff places himself in a tradition that has extended over centuries in which advanced persons have conducted experiments. Whether he invented these exercises or not, he does not claim that the methodological basis was his own, but rather credits them to “person of Pure Reason.” My conjecture is that, in fact, the persons were Orage and himself. Second, Gurdjieff states that the “indications” to be taught to the subconscious are not “contradictory to instinct.” It is unclear whether he means that ideas that are contradictory to instinct cannot, by their very nature, be taught to the subconscious, or whether he is merely highlighting the “reasonableness” of the “indications.” Perhaps his point is related to the idea that it is the instinctive center that prevents us from gaining access to certain powers and energies until we are sufficiently mature and responsible to be able to use them wisely.9 The third matter to note is that this lengthy digression about how it might seem odd to use selfdeception for the purpose of “acquiring one’s own real I” supports the thesis that Gurdjieff delayed in introducing these exercises into his system at least partly because of the dangers he considered to be inherent in them. Yet, he later made even more use of such techniques. Some imagination is constructive imagination, for Gurdjieff had said in Russia that the problem with imagination (the power of mentally forming images) was that in us, as we are, it is uncontrolled.10

8.2 The First Assisting Exercise Gurdjieff then presents the exercise in a nutshell when he says:

If you have understood without any doubt what you must do, and how, and fully hope at some time to attain this in reality, you must at the beginning often imagine, but imagine only, that this is already present in you.11

A little later, Gurdjieff reiterates the exercise, adding a significant detail: He who is exercising himself with this must at the beginning, when pronouncing the words “I am,” imagine that this same reverberation is already proceeding in his solar plexus. . . . when a normal man, that is, a man who already has his real I, his will, and all the other properties of a real man, pronounces aloud or to himself the words “I am,” there always proceeds in him, in his, as it is called, “solar plexus,” a so to say “reverberation,” that is, something like a vibration, a feeling, or something of the sort.12

This exercise bears an uncanny resemblance to the last exercise he gave George and Helen Adie (see Chapter 18). It is very simple: It is to imagine that one already has one’s own I, and to represent that one’s solar plexus reverberates at the affirmation. In my view, that Soil Preparing Exercise has taught the ABCs, as it were: how to experience as separate the intellect, the feeling, and the sensation.Having taught the alphabet, Gurdjieff now teaches a word, perhaps even the word: “I am.”It is important to bring this out clearly and distinctly, for a casual reader will not grasp Gurdjieff’s meaning, let alone his procedure.When he states that “this” is mainly necessary “in order that the consciousness forming in oneself during an active state should continue also during a passive state,”13 Gurdjieff means that only if one works at the exercise often will what has been represented in the intellect pass into the subconscious. Interestingly, Gurdjieff avoids being definitive: The real man who pronounces the words “I am” will feel “something like a vibration, a feeling, or something of the sort.” I have added italics to highlight how Gurdjieff seems to be leaving the possible experience open to the exercitant. The use of the words “pronounce” and “reverberation” does not seem accidental. It is not simply a question of saying “I am”; that is perhaps too casual for such a result. The word “pronounce” seems intended to allude to the nuances of “to utter or deliver formally or solemnly” and “to announce authoritatively or officially.”14 That is, the word “pronounce” implies more intention and deliberation than does a word like “speak.” The concept of “vibrations” and “reverberations” is important in Gurdjieff’s system: The rate of vibrations is, as we have seen, a sign of “vivifyingness” in that the greater the density of vibrations in an organism, the higher its life in the cosmic scale. The vibration in the solar plexus, which Gurdjieff connected with the feeling center (see Section 2.4), is therefore a sign of life in one’s feeling (each center being a living organism). Gurdjieff then goes on to say that the reverberation can proceed in other parts of the body apart from the solar plexus, but on condition that “when pronouncing these words, attention is intentionally concentrated on them.”15He adds that by intentionally concentrating the reverberation of “I am” on any part of the body, it can be cured of “any disharmony.” He offers the example of curing a headache.16 He then repeats that one must pronounce the said words “very often” and not to omit “to have the said reverberation in one’s solar plexus,”17 adding that without the reverberation, it will have no result other than to increase the amount of unrest in the world.18 Gurdjieff does not put it so concisely, but it does seem to come down to this. Placing the warning in a labyrinth of concepts not only adds to the aura of secrecy and esotericism, but also makes the warning seem more ominous. Gurdjieff adds that this is only a “preparatory” exercise, and that when one has “acquired the knack . . . of experiencing this process imagined in yourself, only then will I give you further definite indications for the actualization in yourself of real results.”19 No further exercises are found in this book. Given that Benson had already been taught the theoretical rudiments and some of the practical elements of the Four Ideals Exercise (see Chapter 13), the promised “indications” may relate to this or to a breathing exercise, as the use of the breath was so central to Gurdjieff’s exercises, but there is no certainty. At this point, Gurdjieff adds yet another detail of the exercise: He urges the exercitant to first concentrate “the greater part of your attention” on the words “and the lesser part concentrate on the solar plexus,” and then, he says, “the reverberation should gradually proceed of itself.”20 This injunction to concentrate the attention in different proportions during the exercise is new. The exercise seems to have intentionally been given in fragments interspersed with somewhat dense commentary, so that the exercitant had to work at the text to learn the exercise.

8.3 Subsequent Explanations Gurdjieff then states that it is necessary to acquire only the “taste” of the following impulses that we do not yet possess in reality, but that “for the present you may designate merely by the words ‘I am,’ ‘I can,’ ‘I wish’.”21 Gurdjieff then elaborates: If “I am,” only then “I can”; if “I can,” only then do I deserve and have the objective right to wish. Without the ability to “can” there is no possibility of having anything; no, nor the right to it. First we must assimilate these expressions as external designations of these impulses in order ultimately to have the impulses themselves. . . . on these Divine impulses there is based for humanity the entire sense of everything existing in the Universe, beginning from the atom, and ending with everything existing as a whole.22

The reference to “Divine” impulses is a further reason for seeing mysticism in Gurdjieff, even if disguised. I suggest that Gurdjieff is saying, in a roundabout way, that through these exercises one can understand the purpose of the whole of the universe at all levels, including that of one’s self.

This maintenance of one’s own individual reality, even in the experience of the All, is one of the aspects of Gurdjieff’s teaching that, to the best of my understanding, makes it rare. One does not “lose oneself” in any divine or holy realm, at least not through pursuing these exercises. Whatever awareness one has of the All is predicated on awareness of oneself, and of divine impulses operating within oneself. The gap between the divine and the worldly is thus bridged: It is vast, perhaps even unimaginable, but it is not infinite. This would make Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation what has been called a “dialogical” rather than a “unitive” form of mysticism. Katz writes: “Mysticism” and mystical experience do not . . . necessarily involve a loss of self. Sometimes they do, sometimes they do not. “Mystical experience” is known in both unitive and dialogical forms: the former carries a sense of loss of self and absorption into God or the Ultimate; the latter involves a sense of relationship in which the human self does not sense itself merging into the Absolute.23

Sincerity within the group as the members strive to achieve their common aim is Gurdjieff’s next requirement for an “all-round assimilation” of these existing exercises. He now mentions, in passing, that these “assisting” or “helping” exercises are for the “mastering of the chief exercise.”24 However, what that “chief exercise” might be, he does not say. This introduces another typically Gurdjieff-style linkage between these exercises and one’s life as manifested in the world. Gurdjieff states that only if there is this sincerity within the group can the aim (acquiring real I) be attained, for that aim is “almost impossible” for “contemporary people.”25 Once more, we have reason to think that Gurdjieff may have been induced to introduce his exercises in secluded conditions because development proved too hard for his students using only his instructions on selfobservation and self-remembering. These exercises are to be worked at by the individual members of a group. While Gurdjieff warns that sincerity with all people on all topics is “weakness, slavery and even a sign of hysteria,”26 it is very different when it comes to the group and the attainment of its “common great aim.”27 There, he states: Each of you having become an equal-rights participant in this group newly formed for the attainment of one and the same so to say “ideal” must always struggle with such impulses, inevitably arising in you and unworthy of man, as “self-love,” “pride,” “conceit” and so on, and not be ashamed to be sincere in your answers concerning your observations and constatations on the exercises recommended by me.28

The sharing of their experiences can, says Gurdjieff, be of great to help to them all, and they should “always cognize and instinctively feel that you are all in a certain respect similar to each other, and that the well-being of one of you depends on the well-being of the others.”29 By saying that the group “might also be called a brotherhood,” he makes a connection with the societies mentioned in Beelzebub. The subsequent discussion of the nature of human attention properly belongs to my next chapter, as it directly relates to the Second Assisting Exercise. This first assisting exercise brings to mind the Greek Ego Exercise of Mount Athos we saw in Chapter 4. It seems, then, that what Gurdjieff has done at this stage is set out a preparatory practice, the Soil Preparing Exercise, which had the aim of assisting the exercitants to differentiate sensation and feeling, in practice and not merely theoretically. Gurdjieff instructed them to actualize both sensation and feeling in their experience while maintaining a count, and thus employing the mind. That is, Gurdjieff prepared his pupils by teaching an exercise for the conscious operation of three centers at once. However, I shall suggest, in Section 9.4, that the true source of this First Assisting Exercise is the Jesus Prayer, the simpler version of Prayer of the Heart taught by Nicephorus the Solitary, from Mount Athos, and that Gurdjieff has replaced the words of the prayer with the words “I am,” just as Jeanne de Salzmann wrote that “The words ‘I am’ can be replaced by the words ‘Lord . . . have mercy’,”30 making the two affirmations rather equivalent, for, she said, “We can say, ‘Lord have mercy,’ in order to Be.”31 The Soil Preparing Exercise was, I suggest, adapted from the rosary to accustom exercitants to disciplined interior work. In this First Assisting Exercise, Gurdjieff builds on that earlier exercise by adding a sense of one’s own presence, what he calls “I am,” and in connection with that, adding observations on feeling and mind: “I wish” and “I can.” These indications are then developed in the Second Assisting Exercise in the Third Series. And that, too, I shall suggest, is based on the Prayer of the Heart in Nicephorus.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31.

Gurdjieff (1975) 131–132. Gurdjieff (1975) 132. Gurdjieff (1975) 132. The thesis of Owen (2004) 235–236. Gurdjieff (1975) 133. Gurdjieff (1975) 133. Gurdjieff (1975) 132–133. Gurdjieff (1975) 133. Oral communication from G. M. Adie. Ouspensky (1949) 143. Gurdjieff (1975) 133. Gurdjieff (1975) 134. Gurdjieff (1975) 133–134. Macquarie Dictionary, seventh edition, 1200. Gurdjieff (1975) 134. Gurdjieff (1975) 134. Gurdjieff (1975) 135. Gurdjieff (1975) 135. Gurdjieff (1975) 135. Gurdjieff (1975) 135. Gurdjieff (1975) 135. Gurdjieff (1975) 136. Katz (2013) 3. Gurdjieff (1975) 136. Gurdjieff (1975) 137. Gurdjieff (1975) 137. Gurdjieff (1975) 137. Gurdjieff (1975) 137. Gurdjieff (1975) 137. De Salzmann (2010) 73 De Salzmann (2010) 260.

9 The Second Assisting Exercise from the Third Series

9.1 Introduction The introduction to this exercise commences with Gurdjieff’s observations on attention, just over halfway through the fifth talk. Gurdjieff states, once more in convoluted prose, that attention comprises “the proportionately blended results” of the actions of the three centers. That is, while a person’s attention forms “always one whole,” yet its sources are the “corresponding actions” of the “three independent automatized parts of [one’s] whole individuality.”1 Gurdjieff indicates neither which actions are the “corresponding” ones, nor how the blending is “proportioned.” If attention is a “thing,” as he there indicates, then, on his principles, it will have to be a material substance, even if a subtle one. This is the basis of his next statement, that in “the active state,” one can concentrate the whole of the attention on anything: “either on some part of his common presence or on something outside him, in such a so to say ‘collectiveness’ that all the associations automatically proceeding in him . . . will totally cease to hinder him.”2 This calls to mind the terms of the “Genuine Being Duty” exercise, in which one’s common presence is not hindered by the operation of the unconscious part. Gurdjieff does not say that the associations will stop; rather, he states that they will “inevitably proceed” as long as one breathes, for they are “lawconformable results of the general functioning of his organism.”3 This is an important principle for Gurdjieff’s exercises. Although the Gurdjieff tradition speaks of a “free from thought state,” and Gurdjieff spoke of “stopping thought,” this is understood as a shorthand way of referring to stopping the activity of the lower part of the mind (the formatory apparatus) when it is not needed. Formatory apparatus should play its proper role, and so not impinge on other functions, and completely dominate one’s consciousness. Yet, even if it has been stopped when the higher parts of the mind are engaged (and the sound of the higher mind is akin to silence),4 the formatory apparatus will spring back quite as capable, if not more so than before, when one needs it (e.g., to do some math or to find a key). Gurdjieff reiterates this point, stating that in the “very ancient past” it was shown by “learned persons” that a man’s automatic associations not only do not cease during life, but even continue after death for a few days, “by momentum.”5 Once more, Gurdjieff evokes sages from the distant past, and provides a piece of “information” that, if interesting, is yet not relevant to his disquisition, and probably serves little purpose but as an obstacle to readers taking the material too lightly, and not making efforts to understand it. He then devotes about half a page to dreams, effectively stating that if one’s attention is well directed while awake, then one will not dream.6 Only now does Gurdjieff return to the material related to the second exercise: “a normal man can intentionally divide his whole attention . . . into two or even three separate parts, and concentrate each of these on various independent objects inside or outside himself.”7 Having spoken of the ability to direct the whole of one’s attention, Gurdjieff now adds that one can divide it so that it alights on, or rather includes, multiple objects. Gurdjieff demonstrates his idea by an illustration rather than a theoretical explanation because, he states, while at the Institute, he had found that the “principle of illustrative inculcation” was the only means of teaching these exercises: “I was then already convinced of the impossibility of exactly explaining and fully formulating in words the various fine points of the procedures of any intentional experiencings and exercises for the purpose of self-perfection.”8 This information is “very useful . . . for the productivity of the further work in this newly formed group of ours.”9 Again, matters that might have been placed at the start of any systematic treatise are introduced later in the piece; one is obliged to sort them out for oneself. Gurdjieff here states that the exercises must be personally demonstrated, and for that, a teacher is needed: It is the “only true and useful method for such cases.”10 The word, spoken or printed, does not suffice. This is another mark of continuity with the teaching as given in Russia. Although Gurdjieff was not satisfied with calling these “exercises,” yet he used that word as an alternative to “intentional experiencings.” A variant of the following exercise has been published in the recent volume of Early Talks under the title of “The Compromise Exercise.”11 It is headed “New York, 1930.” The provenance of the text is not given. If it had indeed been taught in New York in 1930, then it is the earliest evidence of Gurdjieff teaching such exercises, and is probably to be associated with the separation of Orage from his groups, an affair in which I see the question of exercises playing a larger role than has been thought. It represents a slightly simplified version of the exercise given below. It could well be that Gurdjieff did give the Compromise Exercise in 1930, and when writing the Third Series expanded it, also making it somewhat more obscure in the process. However, as the version in the Third Series is both fuller and is the version Gurdjieff settled on for his Third Series, that is the one I shall use.

9.2 The Second Assisting Exercise

Again, I have added the paragraph numbering for the Second Assisting Exercise: 1. . . . I am now sitting among you . . . and although I am looking at Mr. L. yet I am intentionally directing all my attention . . . on my foot, and consequently any manifestation Mr. L. produces within my organ of vision I see only automatically—my attention, which at the present moment is one whole, being in another place. 2. This whole attention of mine, I now intentionally divide into two equal parts. 3. The first half I consciously direct to the uninterrupted constatation and continual sensing of the process proceeding in me of my breathing. 4. By means of this attention I definitely feel that something takes place in me with the air I breathe. 5. I first clearly feel that, when I breathe in the air, the greater part, passing through my lungs, goes out again, and the lesser part remains and as it were settles there, and then I feel that this settled part is gradually penetrating inward and is as it were spreading through my whole organism. 6. In consequence of the fact that only a part of my attention is occupied with the observation of the process of breathing proceeding in me, all the mental, feeling and reflex associations automatically flowing in my common presence still continue to be noticed by the free part of my attention, and hinder that first part of my attention intentionally directed upon a definite object, but already to a much lesser extent. 7. Now I direct the second half of my attention to my head brain for the purpose of observing and possibly constating any process proceeding in it. 8. And already I am beginning to feel in it, from the totality of automatically flowing associations, the arising of something very fine, almost imperceptible to me. 9. I do not know just what this is nor do I wish to know, but I definitely constate, feel and sense that this is some definite “something” arising from the process automatically proceeding in my head brain of associations of previously consciously perceived impressions. 10. While this second half of my attention is occupied with the aforesaid, the first half continues all the time uninterruptedly to watch, with so to say “concentrated interest,” the result proceeding from the process of my breathing. 11. I now consciously direct this second half of my attention and, uninterruptedly “remembering the whole of myself,” I aid this something arising in my head brain to flow directly into my solar plexus. I feel how it flows. I no longer notice any automatic associations proceeding in me.12

In Gurdjieff’s final comments on the last page and a half of this “lecture,” he continues the fiction that he has been addressing a group. He states that he has done this exercise before them—“for the purpose of illustratively elucidating its details to you”13—but that such conditions do not correspond “to the possibility of accumulating to the full in my common presence the entire beneficial result of this exercise.”14 Notwithstanding this, he feels “incomparably better than before beginning this ‘demonstrational explanation’.”15 If those conditions did not correspond, perhaps we are to understand that he would have found more benefit had he performed it in a special state. He then states: 12. Owing to my “solar plexus” intentionally and directly taking in the law-conformable results of the air I was breathing and the results arising in my head brain of the previously consciously perceived impressions, I feel much more fully that “I am,” “I can” and “I can wish.”16

Gurdjieff then admonishes the group not to become overly “enthusiastic” and “animated” about his own state, although they can now “vividly sense” it, and wish to acquire it, for this cannot happen with them “for the time being.”17 Rather: 13. From this exercise of mine which I had to do here among you for the purpose of elucidation, there has been obtained in my common presence a result realistically sensed by all of you because I already have a fully defined subjective I, and the whole totality composing it is already more or less adapted for the results of corresponding impressions and law-conformable regulating. 14. And therefore this I of mine absorbs this law-conformable food proper to it more intensively. 15. You, for the time being, must not expect such a definite result from your intentional repetitions of this same exercise. 16. Do not, for the time being, do this exercise in order to be strong; this also is for you only preparation for at some time having your own I, and at the same time for constating, with indubitable certitude, those two real sources from which this I can arise. 17. Now, without philosophizing and without your, for you, maleficent discussions, try first of all to understand the totality of all that I have said today, and then do the exercise for yourself, but without any hope or expectation of any definite results.18

9.3 Commentary That ends the fifth talk, which is also the last of the “talks” in the Third Series. It is also the final exercise in that volume. It is a rather highly developed form of Transformed-contemplation, as I have defined it in Section 0.2. Let us now consider the exercise in a little more detail. 1. Gurdjieff is sitting during the entirety of the exercise, and he has his eyes open, for he can see a man whom he names. One of the exercises Adie taught, and which so far as I am aware no other pupil of Gurdjieff taught, is the Clear Impressions Exercise (see Chapter 16). Gurdjieff proceeds, here, on the understanding that it is possible to “intentionally direct all [his] attention” while looking at someone. That is, the attention can be controlled by an act of will, even though such willpower as we have is, according to Gurdjieff, weak by comparison to what it is in a “normal man.” That attention is directed onto his foot, although he does not say which foot, and I doubt that it matters. By insisting that his attention is now “one whole,” he refers back to the preamble to the exercise, where he stressed the possibility of concentrating one’s attention. Note, too, that his awareness of the person at whom he is looking is now “automatic.” That is, automatic functioning is not intrinsically bad for Gurdjieff, it has its legitimate place, but sometimes consciousness is needed. This reminds one of the division of the centers he taught in Russia, where the higher parts of the centers require conscious attention to be operative. 2. The division of his attention into “two equal parts” illustrates the second property of the attention Gurdjieff had mentioned: that although it is one whole, yet it can be “divided.” Some in the Gurdjieff tradition have objected to the word “division” on the basis that it implies that the attention can be broken into two pieces, rather like a loaf of bread. But that is a subjective interpretation. Gurdjieff was fond of the “philological question,”19 saying that “philology was a better route to Truth than philosophy.”20 He may have known that the word comes from the Latin dividō, and that the word properly meant “to distinguish,” being from the root vid-, which is related to video “to see” and, in English, “wit” and “wise.”21 The prefix dīs- or

dī- has the meaning, in composite words, of “asunder” and “in different directions.” It hails from the root dua- and dui-, which of course has the meaning of “apart” and “two.”22 So, in speaking of “dividing” the attention, Gurdjieff may have had nothing more in mind than holding in the attention more than one object, literally “two seeing”—that is, allowing the impression of more than one object (or the subject and the object) to be consciously received. Certainly, this fits the context of the word in this passage. 3. Bringing awareness to one’s breathing is a prime feature of Gurdjieff’s exercises (see especially Sections 10.3, 10.6, and 11.10). He indicates the importance of conscious breathing in a special state by writing into Beelzebub the Djamdjampal and Djameechoonatra (see Section 6.2). 4. Consciousness of an object becomes magnified when the attention is directed on it. It is a property of consciousness that when it is trained in one direction, other objects are marginalized, but they do not completely disappear from our field of consciousness. George Adie stated that this is a two-sided feature, and that one of the dangers of trance states was that one could direct one’s attention so narrowly as to remain oblivious of dangerous events (which was perhaps part of Gurdjieff’s objections to trances).23 Attention has a useful side (it allows us to focus and study) but when one is identified it leads to a narrowing of awareness. 5. This paragraph relates to the Food Diagram from In Search of the Miraculous. The bulk of the air we inhale is used mechanically, and then exhaled as waste. But not all of it is used that way: Through the first conscious shock a portion reaches the lungs, then moves inward, and, “as it were,” spreads through the “whole organism.” The “as it were” is significant: Adie stated that it is not exactly the air itself, but rather a force fueled by the air, that passes into the blood and through that means penetrates the entire organism.24 6. Gurdjieff echoes the terms of the Genuine Being Duty Exercise when he speaks of the associations as “hindering” the attention “much less.” 7. It is not to be expected, let alone demanded, that something be sensed. One watches for what one may see. But this exercise is not an exercise of “constructive imagination” as the First Assisting Exercise was (see Chapter 8). The process is either “constated” or it is not. The word “constated” is one of those valuable words rarely used today, to the impoverishment of the language. It is probably due to Orage that this word entered Gurdjieff’s vocabulary. It does not merely mean “state,” but rather, “to verify” and “to prove” with the nuance of settling the matter in question. Philologically, it derives from the Latin cōnstō, being “together,” plus “stand,” so as “to agree, accord; be consistent, correspond.” It came to figuratively mean “stand firm, be immovable” and “endure.” Gurdjieff spoke to Kathryn Hulme of attempting his inner exercises: “not with knowing . . . but with sure-ing”—not with the mind but with the feeling.25 He used the word “constated” in a special sense, that of knowing something with one’s attention. Hence, on September 25, 1943, he said: “your head is only capable of constating if you put attention on something.”26 It may be that the original title of the exercise, the Compromise Exercise, was an attempt to express the idea of constating, for “compromise” etymologically has the sense of making a joint promise, which is close to the meaning of “constating” as agreeing, coming to an accord. 8. The concept here is that the higher hydrogens, which are “very fine, almost imperceptible to me,” can in fact be sensed or, as stated here, “felt.” This perception is not to be confused with cruder sensations such as tensions in the scalp. 9. Perhaps Gurdjieff says that he neither knows nor desires to know what this substance is, so that the exercitant not spend too much time and attention on this part of the exercise, to the neglect of the others. This sort of comment, that there are aspects of hydrogens used in the exercise that we should not interest ourselves in, with recurs in the exercise “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing” (see Section 10.7). 10. The arousal of an interest in the exercise is likewise prescribed in “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing.” That the results of the breathing are stressed here makes me more confident that Gurdjieff’s intention in paragraph 9 is that the exercitant not become too wrapped up in speculations on the fine substances. 11. So far as my researches have disclosed, Gurdjieff uniquely speaks of “remembering the whole of myself,” while one “aids” the higher hydrogens in the head to flow directly into the solar plexus, and to feel how it flows. According to the Food Diagram, consciously received impressions develop to as far as MI 12, and these settle in the lower story of the food factory of the human organism.27 However, in this exercise, Gurdjieff speaks of substances in the head brain. The highest substances found there are LA 6, which result only from the conscious development of the air octave.28 The hydrogen FA 6 may be present in the brain as a result of the second conscious shock alchemically transmuting MI 12. This follows from the diagram, wherein all hydrogens of a similar density congregate in the one story. That is, just as all hydrogens 12 are in the lower story, so too all hydrogens 6 should be in the upper story, the brain.29 The food octave ends with SI 12 in the lower story, but were that to develop further, it would produce hydrogen DO 6, and for the same reasons, the head brain would also the site of that substance. So, it would appear that Gurdjieff is speaking about the possibility of moving at least one substance (LA 6), and possibly also two others (FA 6 and DO 6), to the solar plexus, presumably as H 3, in order to assist the further work of the food factory. Gurdjieff had several times said that the factory could produce more substances than it does, but that at certain critical points the “carbons” (the necessary mixing substances) were not present at the relevant part of the organism, and so could not blend with the lower substances to produce higher hydrogens.30 In other words, the theory behind this exercise is not apparent on an uniformed reading, but once it has been teased out, it accords with the theory expressed in the Food Diagram and, indeed, enables one to add more details (the Diagram, as given, omits some details, one obvious example being the ingestion of water, which is not H 768 but H 384). 12. This paragraph alludes to the comments Gurdjieff had made in conjunction with the Soil Preparing Exercise in the third talk, concerning the impulses he called “I am,” “I can,” and “I wish.” Now, he says, as a result of this exercise, what he presents as our absent birthright might become a reality. To term the “results of the air” he had been breathing “law-conformable” is to indicate that the cosmic laws have been working to produce this result, without any outside interference of a violent kind. The phrases “law-conformable” and “not according to law” appear in Beelzebub in this sense.31 The exercise facilitates the act of the will that is necessary to bring hydrogens from one part of the organism to another, and to actualize these more refined processes. 13. Once more, Gurdjieff insists that what is being done is “law-conformable,” thereby countering any notion that this might be some form of magic. He can use “cosmic laws” because he possesses “a fully defined subjective I” that can receive and regulate impressions. He added that although not everyone present has such an I, nonetheless, they could sense that he has performed something remarkable. Again, in the presence of a teacher who can actualize the process, one can better understand what is to be done, and how. 14. Interestingly, Gurdjieff speaks of this “I of mine” absorbing “this law-conformable food proper to it more intensively.” That the I absorbs it means that at a certain point, perhaps when the I has been awakened, the food factory can be identified with I, rather than simply being a mechanism that rumbles on while in the bowels the real I is slumbering. There are too many references to the work of the machine and the food being “law-conformable” for this to simply be a coincidence or a fault in literary style. The only discernible reason seems to be to insist on the scientific, almost engineering, aspect of the entire process. 15. Gurdjieff warns the exercitant not to expect “such a definite result,” because expectations can interfere with the exercise. However, he does qualify this by saying “for the time being.” See the fuller discussion of “not working for results” in Section 18.4. 16. This paragraph is strongly redolent of the instruction in the Genuine Being Duty Exercise. 17. Gurdjieff’s principled dislike of philosophy and “maleficent discussions” finds colorful expression in his stories of the ancient Greeks in Beelzebub.32 On July 15, 1943, he put his reservations about philosophy in a pithy formula: “To have real material, do not think about what your state is. Do not philosophize. Only absorb; breathe in your real ‘I’.”33

9.4 Possible Antecedent in the Philokalia At this point, I return to the hypothesis of the influence on Gurdjieff of the Philokalia and of practices referred to there. I have set out the relevant portions of Nicephorus’s text On Sobriety in Section 3.4. The similarities between that text and this, the Second Assisting Exercise, are as follows: 1. 2. 3. 4.

Both relate to the inhalation and exhalation of air. Both concern the retention of that air. The intellect is to be focused. The mind is concentrated on the breast.

I set out, in table form, a comparison of the Prayer of the Heart and the Second Assisting Exercise: Nicephorus And so, having collected your mind within you, lead it into the channel of breathing through which air reaches the heart and, together with this inhaled air, force your mind to descend into the heart and to remain there. . . . . . . when your mind becomes firmly established in the heart . . . . . . it must not remain there silent and idle, but it should constantly repeat the prayer: “Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me!” and never cease.

Gurdjieff [M]y attention, which at the present moment is one whole . . . The first half (of my attention) I consciously direct to the uninterrupted constatation and continual sensing of the process proceeding in me of my breathing. I first clearly feel that, when I breathe in the air, the greater part, passing through my lungs, goes out again . . . . . . and the lesser part remains and as it were settles there . . . (and in paragraph 11) I aid this something arising in my head brain to flow directly into my solar plexus. I feel how it flows. . . . and then I feel that this settled part is gradually penetrating inward and is as it were spreading through my whole organism. . . . I feel much more fully that “I am,” “I can,” and “I can wish.”

Much has been omitted from both columns of the table. My thesis is not that Gurdjieff slavishly copied this exercise, but rather that he adapted it in accordance with his own established principles. There are also differences that must be mentioned: 1. Gurdjieff’s exercise begins with sensing the foot, while Nicephorus does not mention sensation. 2. Gurdjieff has some of the air retained in the breast; Nicephorus has all of it retained in the nostrils. 3. Gurdjieff calls attention to particles in the head, and to moving these to the breast. Nicephorus does not speak of particles but has the enigmatic instruction to force one’s mind to descend into the heart, and remain and be established there.

To an extent, however, these differences are more apparent than real, for: 1. The experience of sensation is tacitly included in the Prayer of the Heart because the unusual posture obliges one to sense oneself, and holding rosary beads and counting on them involves the sensation. In this respect see Section 3.4 and the reference to the use of beads in The Way of a Pilgrim, where the sensation of his thumb, wrist, and lower arm was a feature of his practice. In addition, as Gurdjieff mentioned, the prostrations of the Orthodox add a physical element to their discipline.34 That is, Gurdjieff noticed from the Orthodox tradition of praying that there is a physical component to what is usually spoken of as purely mental and affective. 2. The effort to hold breath in the nostrils does have the effect of holding it in the lungs, because one must inhale using the lungs to fill the nostrils. Besides, in the Philokalia, Callistus and Ignatius give the instruction that when one inhales, one should “constrain it [the mind] to enter the heart together with the inhaled air, and keep it there.”35 3. The two instructions may come to the same thing in practice. Gurdjieff maintained a theory of the materiality of psychic processes, while Nicephorus probably did not consider this at all. To “force one’s mind” may necessarily involve moving particles, should they exist.

Further, Gurdjieff said that the “feeling brain” had initially been localized in the breast but had been removed to the solar plexus and other places.36 In other words, in Gurdjieff, the “solar plexus” is the functional equivalent of the heart in the Philokalia. It now remains to set out in table form the second and simpler formulation of the Prayer (the one I prefer to call the “Jesus Prayer”) by Nicephorus and the First Assisting Exercise from Gurdjieff: Nicephorus Thus, having banished very thought from this inner talking . . . give it the following short prayer: “Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me!” . . . in time this will open for you the way to the heart which I have described

Gurdjieff [W]hen pronouncing the words “I am,” imagine that this same reverberation is already proceeding in his solar plexus.

Although the two exercises, both in Nicephorus and Gurdjieff, are short, the similarities appear clearer once one has noticed the likeness to the Prayer of the Heart. There is another passage in Gurdjieff that seems to be a literary reminiscence of the Prayer of the Heart. In the early paper, written under Gurdjieff’s instructions, known variously as “Glimpses of the Truth” and “Reflexes of Truth,” Gurdjieff says to the narrator: “the understanding you have is nothing but a dim reflex of the bright divine light.”37 Perhaps “reflex” is a mistranslation of “reflection.” This is an intriguing way of speaking, because it is so unexpected that Gurdjieff would speak of the “bright divine light.” However, it may be an echo of the importance of the experience of the light of God to the Hesychasts. One of the main points on which the hesychast controversy had arisen was the stated vouchsafing to monks of vision of the uncreated light that had shone on Mount Tabor at the time of the Transfiguration.38 Now, if the Second Assisting Exercise is adapted from Nicephorus’s Prayer of the Heart, then it is more

plausible that the First Assisting Exercise is adapted from Nicephorus’s Jesus Prayer. As we saw in Section 3.4, Nicephorus states that if the first exercise is too difficult one may use the shorter prayer: “Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me!”39 I suggest that Gurdjieff has reversed the order of the two exercises: Nicephorus presents first the longer exercise, what I exclusively term the “Prayer of the Heart,” with the breath and the holding of the mind. He then presents the second and shorter version of that prayer (the “Jesus Prayer”) without the breath and the mental constraint. Gurdjieff first substitutes “I am” for “Lord have mercy” (as de Salzmann stated was possible; see Section 6.3). He then, as stated, reverses the order of the exercises. It seems to me to be strongly arguable that, if this is the case, it is plausible to see in the Soil Preparing Exercise his adaptation of the use of beads for the Jesus Prayer (see Section 14.2). Incidentally, given Gurdjieff’s comments about an Ego exercise on Mount Athos, then it may be that the substitution of “I am” for some prayer for mercy first occurred within Hesychasm, or at least that Gurdjieff thought it had. These, then, were the exercises of Transformed-contemplation that Gurdjieff wrote out. These could be called “internal exercises.” They set the stage for other exercises that were to come, and that were contemplative in style, and even, as with the Lord Have Mercy and the Four Ideals Exercises, overtly religious.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19.

20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39.

Gurdjieff (1975) 138. Gurdjieff (1975) 138. Gurdjieff (1975) 138. Adie and Azize (2015) 79–80. Gurdjieff (1975) 138. Gurdjieff (1975) 138–139. Gurdjieff (1975) 139. Gurdjieff (1975) 139. Gurdjieff (1975) 139. Gurdjieff (1975) 140. Gurdjieff (2014) 409–411. Gurdjieff (1975) 140–141. Gurdjieff (1975) 141. Gurdjieff (1975) 141–142. Gurdjieff (1975) 142. Gurdjieff (1975) 142. Gurdjieff (1975) 142. Gurdjieff (1975) 142. Hulme (1997) 95 and Gurdjieff (1950) 500. See, for examples of Gurdjieff’s interest in words, Anonymous (2012) 101, 113, and this exchange at 178: Gurdjieff having been told that one cannot say “dish of the day” because it is not English, he asks Payson Loomis what he would say instead of “dish of the day.” When Loomis replies: “Well, we say plat du jour,” Gurdjieff immediately retorts: “That is not English, either, Mr. Loomis.” Loomis had studied Arabic and Russian at Harvard: Taylor (2007b) 49. March (2012) 43. Lewis (1889) 1191. Lewis (1889) 308 and 1182. Oral communication. Oral communication. Hulme (1997) 71–72. Gurdjieff (2009) 47. The translation in (2017) 176 has “observe” for constate. Ouspensky (1949) 189. Ouspensky (1949) 188–189. See Figure 39, Ouspensky (1949) 190. See, for example, Ouspensky (1949) 187 and 188. Certain efforts are said to bring diverse hydrogens into a contact that would not otherwise occur. See especially Gurdjieff (1950) 31, 123, 240, 293, 301, 795,1172, 1220, and 1227–1228. Gurdjieff (1950) 417–418. Gurdjieff (2017) 75. Ouspensky (1949) 387. Kadloubovsky and Palmer (1951) 192. Gurdjieff (1950) 779–780 and (2009) 182. Gurdjieff (2014) 13. Krausmüller (2006) 102–105. For a selection of the original texts, see St. Gregory Palamas in Palmer, Sherrard, and Ware (1995) 376–378 and 414–417. Nicephorus, On Sobriety, 33–34.

10 Gurdjieff in the Late 1930s

10.1 Introduction Partly because of the difficulty in dating the lectures in Life Is Real, Only Then, When “I Am,” and partly because of their central importance to our topic, it seemed convenient to deal with those talks and their exercises prior to treating of the balance of Gurdjieff’s teaching in the 1930s. Gurdjieff’s constructive concern in the 1930s was writing and arranging translations of his writings. As suggested in Section 1.3, this preoccupation may have contributed to his forming “the Rope” on October 21, 1935.1 By all accounts, this group apart, the 1930s were a rather desultory period for him; he traveled sometimes to the United States, where little was accomplished once Orage’s direction was lost.2 Gurdjieff’s relations with the Americans revolved, obsessively, around money.3 Rumors of a visit to Central Asia and Russia seem to be unfounded,4 but the very fact that they circulated and cannot be positively disproved show how far Gurdjieff’s public profile had diminished.5 It was a period of underachievement, of an inexplicable lassitude and apparent indifference to any mission. It is likely that Gurdjieff could have at least attempted to reorganize and vivify the American groups, and publish his writings. Perhaps he had been counting on Orage’s continued assistance in writing the Second and Third Series, and simply did not know what methods he should employ, but felt constrained to wait and see what would develop from his earlier efforts (see Section 1.6). However, our concern is now Transformed-contemplation. The exercises in this chapter are, unlike those we have studied, found in transcripts of his talks. That is, they were not carefully prepared and written down beforehand. That Gurdjieff improvised when giving his exercises is beyond doubt. The style of his comments suggest this (see Section 11.1), and it also emerges from Hulme’s recollection of his instructions to the Rope in the summer of 1936. Gurdjieff has just challenged Hulme to stop smoking, and: Then he leaned back and gave us all an instruction that sounded like prayer. “This can be a thing for power,” he said. “I will tell you one very important thing to say each time when the longing comes. At first you say it and maybe you notice nothing. The second time, maybe nothing. The third time . . . maybe you will notice something. Say: “I wish the force of my wishing to be my own, for Being”.” He thought a moment, then shook his head. “No. Better another way. Force such as this, has special results, makes chemicals, has special emanations. Better to say—I wish the result of this, my suffering, be my own, for Being. Yes, you can call that kind of wishing suffering, because it is suffering. This saying maybe can take force from your animal and give it to Being . . . and you can do this for many things. For any denial of something that is a real slavery.”6

The two exercises that it is thought Gurdjieff did deliver in the United States in December 1930 and February 1931 (see Sections 10.2 and 10.3) bear only a family resemblance to the three more fully realized exercises that, according to Life Is Real, were then taught. That no independent record of these latter exercises exists is further reason to see them as a retrojection. Further, the more developed form of the exercises in Life Is Real is not merely a function of Gurdjieff’s taking the time to write them: The exercises mark Gurdjieff’s development of mental tasks (e.g., learning Morse code and Tibetan words), disciplines (“the Dying Daily Exercise”) and Transformed-contemplation (the three carefully thought-out and interrelated exercises in Life Is Real dealt with in Chapters 7–9).

10.2 An Exercise Concerning Aim and Energy Other than the Genuine Being Duty Exercise in Beelzebub, this is the earliest example of Transformedcontemplation, as opposed to what I am calling a task or a discipline known to actually have been given by Gurdjieff, and to be reliably dated. A transcript of Gurdjieff speaking on December 29, 1930, in New York, the authenticity of which had been accepted by both Jeanne de Salzmann and Olga de Hartmann,7 reads, with numbered paragraphs: 1. To gain energy, Mr. Gurdjieff gave an exercise for those who are able already to often automatically remember their aim, but have no strength to do it. 2. Sit for a period of least one hour alone. 3. Make all muscles relaxed. 4. Allow associations to proceed but do not be absorbed by them. Say to them: “If you will let me do my business now, I will later grant your wishes.” Look at associations as another being to keep from identifying yourself with them. 5. At the end of the hour take a piece of paper and write your aim on it. Make this paper your God. Everything else is nothing. 6. Take from your pocket and read it constantly every day. In this way, it becomes a part of you. At first theoretically, later actually. 7. To gain energy, practice this exercise of sitting still and making your muscles dead. Only when everything in you is quiet for an hour then make your decision about your aim. Don’t let associations absorb you.8

I would make the following comments:

1. That this exercise was given at least partly to “gain energy” is repeated in paragraph 7. It seems to be specifically directed to finding the energy to remember one’s aim, and not just “automatically”—that is, with the formatory apparatus of the head only. Having an aim is critical in Gurdjieff’s system.9 2. The length required for this exercise, one hour, is remarkable. It is one of the longest specified for any Gurdjieff exercise I know of. 3. The relaxation of all muscles is understood to be preliminary to any Gurdjieff exercise. It had been stressed in Essentuki (see Section 4.3, see also Section 11.2 and Chapter 17). Hulme, writing of the summer of 1936, discloses that relaxation was the first step in all of Gurdjieff’s exercises.10 4. The instruction to explain, so to speak, to one’s associations that if they leave the exercitant alone, their wishes will later be granted, is reminiscent of the Genuine Being Duty Exercise. Gurdjieff here also stresses not identifying with one’s own thoughts. 5. This is the only exercise I know of where something is to be written down, but there is a reason for it: to help exercitants remember their aim. 6. The idea behind this paragraph is doubtless that, with time, the sense of the aim moves from the head to the feeling.

This exercise, then, is based on the same principles as the Genuine Being Duty Exercise (relaxation to prepare the entire organism, then the process of “active mentation,” including addressing one’s mechanical part as if it were conscious). It is also the precursor of the exercise on aim and decision given on August 24, 1944, in Paris (see Section 11.12).

10.3 “There Are Two Parts to Air” This exercise is headed “New York, Friday, 6 February 1931.” Gurdjieff was in the United States on February 6, 1931.11 Although it was first published by C. S. Nott, he does not actually say that he was present; he simply places it in the middle of his narrative, separated by double returns. Its status as a floating typescript suggests that it was not Nott’s recollection, but that he had access to it, and included it in his book (which is what he did, quite substantially, with Orage’s lecture notes). The exercise reads, breaking down the largest paragraph and numbering them: 1. There are two parts to air, evolving and involving. Involving part only, gives vivifyingness to “I.” Only enough of this part is taken now for the Trogo-afto-ego-crat. Not until you have a conscious wish can you assimilate more of this good part of air. This involving part comes from the Prime Source. 2. The secret of being able to assimilate the involving part of air is to try to realize your own insignificance, and the significance of those around you. You are mortal and will die some day. The person on whom your attention rests is your neighbor. He will also die. Both of you are nonentities. 3. At present most of your suffering is “suffering in vain” which comes from a feeling of anger and jealousy toward others. 4. If you gain data to always realize the inevitability of their death, and your own death, you will always feel pity toward others and be just . . . Put yourself in the position of others. They have the same significance as you. They will die, like you; they suffer as you do. 5. Only if you try to sense this insignificance until it becomes a habit whenever you see anyone, only then, will you be able to assimilate the good part of the air and have a real “I.” 6. Every man has wishes and things which he holds dear that he will lose at death. From looking at your neighbor and realizing his insignificance, that he will die, pity and compassion will arise in you for him and finally you will love him. 7. . . . By continually doing this exercise, real faith will arise in some part and spread to other parts. Then, already, man will be happy because from this faith, objective hope will arise, hope of a basis for continuation.

This exercise is neither done sitting nor with eyes closed. Rather, paragraph 5 can only mean that the exercise is attempted with open eyes (“whenever you see anyone”), while paragraph 2 (“the person on whom your attention rests”) does not require one to be alone or seated. A religious tone is prominent: the centrality of the realization that those we meet are our neighbors, which grounds what Gurdjieff says about our interrelationship, would be sufficient to recall the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37). But, in addition, in paragraphs 6 and 7, he makes reference to the desirability of acquiring faith, hope, and love (the “Theological Virtues” celebrated in 1 Corinthians 13:13).

10.4 Commentary on the Two Parts to Air Exercise Turning to a more detailed analysis, I observe that:

1. It may, at first sight, seem odd that it is not the evolving but the involving part of air that is said to “give vivifyingness” to “I.” It is not that there are two different airs, but that the air has two parts. The involving part must, on first principles, be that part that has come from above in the Ray of Creation (“the Prime Source”). The evolving part, on the other hand, will be that which has arisen from below—that is, from planetary sources. With that understanding, the comment does make sense: The “I” is animated by what is received from the higher sources. “Trogo-afto-ego-crat” is the “Trogoautoegocrat” of Beelzebub (see Section 2.2). “Afto” is the modern Greek pronunciation of the Greek letters alpha and upsilon, classically translated and taken into English as “au” (e.g., in “auto”). Gurdjieff’s meaning is that now we only digest from the air what is needed for the purpose of maintaining ourselves. However, more can be assimilated, if one has “a conscious wish.” As we saw in Section 8.3, “wish” is important in Gurdjieff’s teaching. 2. To say that “the involving part of air” can be assimilated only when we realize our own “insignificance” and that we are “nonentities” is typical of Gurdjieff’s subversion of romantic ideas of humanity as a prelude to substituting other, more sober notions that focus more on human possibilities. I would suggest that this amounts to a call to humility, and a statement that those around us are in no more distinguished position. That is, in Gurdjieff’s terms, we are all equally asleep. Gurdjieff said that the Fourth Way was for people who are disappointed with the methods of other ways.12 Radically, this was because the first enlightenment on the Fourth Way is that man “does not exist; he must realize that he can lose nothing because he has nothing to lose; he must realize his ‘nothingness’ in the full sense of the term.”13 One will not make sacrifices to gain what one already believes one has.14 The reference in paragraph 2 of the exercise to realizing that “You are mortal and will die some day” is also found in Beelzebub, almost as the climax. At the very end of the story, Beelzebub’s grandson Hassein asks him [Beelzebub] how he would reply if “Our All-Embracing-Creator-Endlessness Himself” were to ask him “whether it is still possible by some means or other to save them [i.e., men] and to direct them into the becoming path?” To this, Beelzebub replies, in the 1931 transcript: Thou All of the Allness of my Wholeness! The sole means now for the saving of the Beings of the planet Earth would be to implant again into their presences a new organ, an organ like Kundabuffer, but this time of such proportion that every one of those unfortunates during the process of existence should constantly sense and be cognizant of the inevitability of his own death as well as of the death of every one upon whom his eyes or attention rests. Only such a sensation and such a cognizance can now destroy the egoism completely crystallized in them that has swallowed up the whole of their Essence and also the tendency to hate others which flows from it—the tendency seemingly which engenders all those inimical relationships existing there which serves as the chief cause of all their abnormalities unbecoming to three-brained beings and maleficent for them themselves and for the whole of the Universe.15

3. 4.

5.

6.

With this, the narrative and Chapter 47 end. There follows only Chapter 48, “From the Author,” an address from Gurdjieff speaking in his own voice. The thought of becoming conscious that we ourselves and all whom we see will die, and so growing in love, was in Gurdjieff’s mind in 1931. Incidentally, the phrase “Thou All of the Allness of my Wholeness” corresponds to his statement to Nicoll that “Behind real I lies God,” and is more evidence that a religious aspect is palpable in Gurdjieff, even if often sublimated (see Section 12.4). The concept that some suffering can be “intentional” or “voluntary” is a frequent theme in Gurdjieff.16 But the idea that it comes from “a feeling of anger and jealousy toward others” seems new, and links the growth of love to the benefits of “intentional suffering.” This relation to others is connected to the above themes, but note also the similarity to the words placed by “OUR COMMON FATHER” over “the chief entrance of the holy planet Purgatory”: “ONLY-HE-MAY-ENTER-HERE-WHO-PUTS-HIMSELF-INTHE-POSITION-OF-THE-OTHER-RESULTS-OF-MY-LABOURS.” 17 Both this and the preceding quotation from that book are highlighted by being placed close to the end of the narrative. This is another example of what Gurdjieff called “taking habit.” He was not against habit as such—habit could be used for conscious purposes18—but he warned that unconscious and mechanical habits were a sign of sleep. One might offer the paradox that people could usefully have habits, provided that they were not themselves “a habit” or “a collection of habits.” Again, the ultimate aim is the forming of “real I.” It is typical of Gurdjieff that he does not deliver an injunction to “love” as if one could love on demand. Love is the goal: He even states that it is the Way,19 and that “Real love is the basis of all, the foundations, the Source.”20 But, according to Gurdjieff, the love of a person without “real I” can always turn to hatred, and that means that it is not love: “mechanical man cannot love—with him it loves or it does not love.”21 Hands states that, in 1949, while she was speaking with Gurdjieff, he explained to her telepathically [sic]:

what I wanted to know about objective love. I began to understand how the greater does not preclude the lesser, but includes it and, in fact, the greater could not exist without the lesser. I saw how his love was not at all a personal love, but love for all humanity, for all living beings, perhaps even for all creation.22 7. As we saw in Section 7.3, it is necessary to undertake these exercises often because, according to Gurdjieff, only then will they begin to act in the subconscious, which is what he and Ouspensky said about the Orthodox exercises (see Section 3.5). The idea of “faith” arising in “some part” and then spreading is a way of saying that what begins in the mind or feeling can eventually be absorbed by the other centers of the organism. Faith, hope, and love were important in Beelzebub; see especially the role they play in Chapter 26 of Beelzebub, where they are the theme of the marble inscription that forms the centerpiece of the chapter.23

As stated, this was an exercise done with eyes open. It is almost more an injunction with a series of considerations than a practice, like the undated advice given to Benson about stealing prayers (see Section 4.6). Given the transformation of the air and the contact between different parts of oneself, it must, like the Benson exercise, provide an example of what we have defined as Transformedcontemplation, although Gurdjieff is not tying it to being done in secluded conditions. Further, the basic idea of feeding on the air reappears in an conversation in 1939. In Undiscovered Country, Hulme recalls Gurdjieff saying: “Nature gives only one thing; he gives atmosphere, this air. This is all he gives.” She continues: I knew better than to interrupt with a pointed query about the breathing exercise he had given . . . aimed precisely to take from that absurd air the “being food” it contained, as conscious man had done from the beginning of conscious time.24

10.5 Hulme on the Exercises Kathryn Hulme (1900–1981) left an autobiographical account of her time with Gurdjieff, chiefly from 1935 to 1938, Undiscovered Country. It has many advantages over the notes in Gurdjieff and the Women of the

Rope, not least her efforts to provide context and her elaboration of what was merely noted in those journal entries, sometimes rather cryptically. Although I have drawn on her book throughout this volume, her contribution is of sufficient clarity and intelligence to deserve special mention. She wrote: On November 17 [1936], we began a third series of exercises under the master’s guidance. The new work was complex and required a sustained inner attention beyond anything ever before attempted. The kind of “being efforts” we struggled over, he told us, had been called “self-beatings” by the adepts of an old monastic order he had visited in the days of his searchings. . . . Gurdjieff had given us a pledge to say each time before beginning the new exercise—that we would not use this for the self, but for all humanity. The “good-wishing-for-all” vow, so deeply moving in intent, had a tremendous effect upon me. . . . The meaning of this Work, which at first had seemed quite egotistical and self-centered, suddenly blossomed out like a tree of life encompassing in its myriad branchings the entire human family.25 Again and again he stressed the importance of remembering our exercises, of doing them daily no matter where we would be or in what condition. “Not once will you do them,” he said, “not one hundred times will you do them . . . but one thousand and one times you will do, and then perhaps something will happen. Now it is imagination, but sooner or later it will be fact, because your animal is law-able.”26

Gurdjieff’s reluctance to use secluded conditions is again apparent, and contrasts with what we shall witness him teaching in the 1940s: not that he ever ceases to give exercises to be done in the social domain of life, but that he adds contemplation-like exercises to be attempted in calm. After 1938, when the Rope ceased to meet, there is no exercise from the 1930s extant, other than the one known as “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing.”

10.6 “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing” This exercise was found in Yale University’s Beinecke Rare Manuscripts Library among the papers of Jean Toomer.27 Dated 1939, it has been accepted as authentic by many in the Gurdjieff groups, and it is entirely of a piece with Gurdjieff’s exercises. The version published in 2014 includes a postscript in which the writer states that it was given to him or her from Gurdjieff (paragraph 11 below).28 A typed version I saw circulating in 1996 is titled “Exercise, in Gurdjieff’s Words,” but it is not known whether the title is coeval with the exercise or was later added. If it is not by Gurdjieff, then it is certainly within the Gurdjieff tradition. The broken English and the unsystematic meandering are redolent of him. As published in the 2014 edition of Gurdjieff’s talks, it reads (I have added paragraph numbers) as follows: Exercise 1939 1. Fifteen minutes relax. Break tempo of ordinary life before doing exercise. 2. Breathe in—“I.” Breathe out—“am.” With all three parts do. Not just mind. Feeling and body also. Make strong! Not easy thing. 3. When breathe out, imagine part of air stays in and flows to corresponding place. Where flow, how flow, that is its business. Only feel that part remains. 4. Before beginning exercise say: “I wish to keep this substance for myself.” 5. Without this conscious and voluntary labor on your part nothing at all will be coated. All will in time evaporate. 6. Just this small property in blood makes possible very big result if done with conscious labor. Without this, for one month you must work for such result. 7. When doing, must be very careful not to change exterior. It is inner thing. No one need know. Outside keep same exterior. Inside you do. 8. Not hold breath. Just breathe in and out. Of course, to change thinking will take time. Automatically breath will adjust. 9. To be able to do exercise not lopsidedly you must put whole attention on it. To arouse feeling, interest, and attention for cooperation you must think the following before beginning: “I am now about to begin this exercise. With full attention I will draw in my breath, saying ‘I,’ and sensing the whole of myself. I wish very much to do this in order that I may digest air.” 10. To arouse body to cooperate, take corresponding posture. Inner tension of forces. Mobilize your centers for working together for this aim. In breathing [out] imagine something flows, like when inhaling cigarette. 11. I am now about to begin this exercise, which I have been fortunate enough to learn from Mr. Gurdjieff, and which will enable me with the aid of conscious labor, to coat higher bodies in myself from active elements in the air I breathe.29

10.7 Commentary on “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing” The following points might be noted, paragraph by paragraph:

1. First is the instruction to break the tempo of ordinary life. This is critical to Gurdjieff, for the tempo of ordinary life is one in which our various centers are disharmonized, and this disharmony is entrenched by the few invariable tempos of the centers. The operation of various energies in our bodies is related to their tempos of movement, and these affect the tempos of the centers. But if the tempos are properly calibrated then the human organism can work more harmoniously.30 So this exercise commences with consciously relaxing for fifteen minutes to cause the old tempo to pass. It implies that the organism has a momentum that involves a tempo, but that this momentum can be changed if tensions are dissipated. The daily Preparation as Gurdjieff taught it at the end of his life, in 1948 and 1949, began with relaxation (see Chapter 17). Hulme stated that relaxation preceded the exercises she was given in 1936 (see Section 10.2). Further, it is a matter of common observation that relaxed breathing calms the circulation of the blood, so that both are slower and more even. Gurdjieff evidently considered it fundamental to slow the physical tempos. 2. The next instruction is to pronounce the words “I am,” relating it to the breath. As we have seen, these words are central to Gurdjieff’s philosophy and methods. But here they are linked in this manner: “I” on the inhalation, and “am” on the exhalation. Again, this becomes a part of the Preparation. Gurdjieff’s injunction to not allow the exercise to be a purely intellectual matter is based on his teaching that the three main centers on which conscious work must proceed are those of the intellect, feeling, and body. He declares: “Make strong! Not easy thing,” perhaps because the exercitant must strive for a simultaneous awareness of the operation of each of the three centers. 3. On exhaling, the exercitant must imagine that a part of the air inhaled remains and “flows to [its] corresponding place.” This hearkens back to the assisting exercises of the Third Series where “self-deception” or the power of constructive imagination is utilized. As is said in the second of the assisting exercises, Gurdjieff now repeats that it is not our concern where or how the air flows. However, as we shall see, he later gave exercises in which the movement of the flow of the air and the force that enters the body with it was placed under direction. 4. Disconcertingly, but not surprisingly for Gurdjieff, he only now, after having given the exercise, states that prior to commencing it one should say: “I wish to keep this substance for myself.” According to Gurdjieff, a conscious wish exerts an influence over the whole of the organism. Significantly, too, a substance is being retained. It is not a prayer for grace or for some invisible and intangible help; rather, it is a process for the retention of something material: ideas for which the ground was laid in his Russian teaching, especially in the Food Diagram. 5. Gurdjieff describes this exercise as being a “conscious and voluntary labor.” This is redolent of the teaching in Beelzebub on “conscious labors.” When he states that without this labor “nothing at all will be coated,” he is referring both to the “coating of the higher being bodies” and to the idea, again found in the Food Diagram, that in the natural dispensation, our development will only proceed to a limited point unless we take steps to become consciously aware of the receipt of impressions. Here the impressions to be received are of the air, and of the subtle processes it undergoes during inhalation and exhalation. 6. When Gurdjieff teaches that a “small property in blood” facilitates the results he speaks of, he seems to be alluding to the idea stated in the chapter “Hypnotism” in Beelzebub, that: that part of the being-blood which almost everywhere is called the sacred being-Hanbledzoin, and only on certain planets is called the “sacred Aiëskhaldan,” and which part serves the highest part of the being called the soul, is formed from the direct emanations of our Most Holy Sun Absolute.31 To say that one who did not understand this would need the equivalent of a month for the result harks back to what has been quoted about the difference between the ways, and how the practitioner of the Fourth Way can simply prepare in a pill or a cup the substances needed (see Section 6.2). 7. The exhortation “not to change exterior” seems to suggest that it can be done while going about daily activities. However, when it has been used in groups, it has been taken as a contemplative exercise, done seated, and with eyes closed. 8. The advice that the breath will automatically adjust itself is needed so that exercitants do not try and force any change in their breathing. The Gurdjieff methods rarely involve changing or holding the breath, only observing it. The general rule is that one does not make a change to one’s breathing, but a change may well be experienced. The very few exceptions are restricted, to the best of my knowledge, to the movements. 9. “Lopsided” was one of Gurdjieff’s favorite words in the 1930s.32 It means that one is not balanced. Man number 4, developing man, is one in whom “his psychic centers have already begun to be balanced; one center in him cannot have such a preponderance over others as is the case with people of the first three categories.”33 Ouspensky reports Gurdjieff saying: In an unbalanced kind of man the substitution of one center for another goes on almost continually and this is precisely what “being unbalanced” or “neurotic” means. . . . The emotional center working for the thinking center brings unnecessary nervousness, feverishness, and hurry into situations where, on the contrary, calm judgment and deliberation are essential.34 This is not the only place where Gurdjieff offers considerations that rouse exercitants to make a steady effort. Here the effort is to “arouse feeling, interest, and attention for cooperation.” Perhaps the reference to “cooperation” is to the cooperation between conscious and unconscious parts found in the Genuine Being Duty Exercise. 10. More will be said about the correct posture when we come to the Preparation in Chapter 17, but having first been mentioned in the Russian years,35 posture became a very important part of the exercises. The employment of “constructive imagination” was met in Section 8.1. 11. This final paragraph, again exhorting the exercitant, can hardly have been written by Gurdjieff, but I do not know who wrote it.

10.8 Review: Gurdjieff’s Transformed-Contemplation in 1939 Although Gurdjieff stated that he had acquired essential components of his teaching in monasteries, most especially those of the Sarmoung and World Brotherhoods, which were in Central Asia, he brought a teaching that was explicitly not for monasteries but for the social domain of life, and he brought it to Europe (see Sections 1.2 and 2.1). He commenced in Russia in either 1911 or 1912, but revolution forced him to go further west. From the time of the purchase of the Prieuré outside Paris in 1922, through his spectacular US tour, until the accident of probably July 8, 1925 (see Section 1.5), Gurdjieff enjoyed a certain limelight. This had so badly faded that, in 1948, Bennett had assumed that Gurdjieff had either died or gone mad, a rumor that Herald had not forcibly rendered implausible.36 Much of Gurdjieff’s activities and intentions during the 1930s are obscure, but I suggest that a development in his attitude toward contemplation-like exercises had occurred. The starting point was Gurdjieff’s knowledge of them, but also his avoidance of them, and his critique of contemplation, monks, and philosophers. Then there transpired two things Gurdjieff can hardly have expected. First, the car accident in which he

nearly lost his life forced him to reconsider his position. His methods had proved insufficient.37 The work for conscious development had produced some results, but not enough: It was just too hard for people. This could have flowed from the fact that he had studied in the monasteries of Mount Athos and further east, and was now adapting a teaching and a practice to those living in the social domain of life in the West: Why should it succeed?38 The process of adaptation had not proved smooth, and after the 1924 accident he decided that his plans to publish something had to be accelerated, as Ouspensky had not produced the promised introduction. Fortunately, the extraordinarily talented editor A. R. Orage was at hand, and was almost endlessly willing. The second unexpected development was that Orage showed an aptitude for the exercises (I have termed them “tasks”) that Gurdjieff had introduced into the daily work at the Prieuré, and, probably with Gurdjieff’s approval, had written a number of exercises and essays. One of these, “On Dying Daily,” was almost certainly based on indications from Gurdjieff and represents a “discipline,” something to be used more consistently and for longer-term results than a task. Orage then intended to develop exercises for the development of will, based on “a suggestion [received] from Gurdjieff” (see Section 5.2). However, for reasons that are unclear, Gurdjieff was angered when Orage published his slim volume, Psychological Exercises. Gurdjieff faced a dilemma: He would only collaborate on writing with someone superlatively talented, but the few people of that caliber are unaware of their worth, and they do tend to be independently minded. So it proved with both Ouspensky and Orage. Further, Ouspensky may well have been correct that “All great men have their weaknesses. G.’s weakness was his conviction that he could write if he wished—the very thing he could not do” (see Section 5.4).39 This probably produced friction that most people would have found impossible, even assuming writers less eminent than Ouspensky and Orage. However, it seems that Orage’s initiative spurred Gurdjieff to present the two contemplation-like exercises reviewed in this chapter, the first time he had done so. The first of these, the Aim and Energy Exercise, was a purely contemplative one. The 1931 edition of Beelzebub refers to the ingestion of air in secluded conditions, the Djamdjampal and the Djameechoonatra, and although it is absent from that earlier edition, the 1950 Beelzebub includes a disquisition on the fifth point in the developing octave that says that, for internal results, quiet conditions are needed. Significantly, the term “Aiëssirittoorassniancontemplation,” and the statement that it was necessary for development, was missing in the 1931 edition, but it was included by the time of the 1950 one, as was the full Genuine Being Duty Exercise (a shorter version was found in the 1931 edition). In 1933, in Herald of Coming Good, Gurdjieff reiterated the critique of meditation he had made in the Prospectus but also referred to the need for Transformedcontemplation. Before the Prieuré had closed in the winter of 1933–1934, he had taught Benson both the theoretical and the practical rudiments of the Four Ideals Exercise, although it seems that it was to be attempted in the social domain, not sitting alone with eyes closed. A certain hand movement relating to the solar plexus and a “religious” attitude were part of Gurdjieff’s instruction (see Section 4.6). It is unknown whether this was before or after the exercises of 1930–1931. During the latter half of the 1930s, he taught the women of the Rope at least three entire series of contemplative exercises. Then, from 1939 hails the purely contemplative “Make Strong! Not Easy Thing,” which brings together the essence of Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation: the mobilization of all a human being’s faculties (intellect, feeling, and body); the affirmation of “I am”; and the conscious ingestion and metabolism of the higher hydrogens in the air under the influence of esoteric knowledge, a being-wish, and consciousness, all with a view to coating higher bodies. Also by this time, Gurdjieff has prepared but not published the all-important Third Series, Life Is Real, in which the Soil Preparing Exercise presents the ABC of Transformed-contemplation and also of selfremembering: how to experience as separate the intellect, the feeling, and the sensation. Then he uses that alphabet to produce two exercises to bring the exercitant to a unified state of presence, “I am,” and to consciously move higher energies from one part of the organism to another, and so to change one’s state of being to a more conscious one. However, not until the Paris groups of World War II do these exercises become central to his groups’ work. Having painstakingly produced the rudiments of his language of Transformed-contemplation, Gurdjieff produces an abundant flow of them between 1941 and 1946.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39.

For the date, see Hulme (1997) 68. Previous accounts of Gurdjieff in the 1930s have been superseded by Taylor (2007) 206– 250. This emerges fairly clearly from the silences toward the end of Welch (1982). The details would, if fiction, be depressing: Taylor (1998) 154–161. Churton (2017) 305 (footnote). Taylor (2007) 208. Hulme (1997) 80–81. See the foreword by Jeanne de Salzmann in Gurdjieff (1973), v and viii, and this exercise at 92. Gurdjieff (1973) gives the date as “9 December 1930,” but the transcript states “Monday 29 December 1930,” and that date was a Monday. Gurdjieff (2014) 407. Ouspensky (1949) 99–104 and 222–223; Bennett (1977) 1–2. Hulme (1997) 80. Taylor (2008) 228. Taylor does not mention either this exercise or the talk in the relevant section, 151–169. Ouspensky (1949) 242–243. Ouspensky (1949) 160. “[T]he first thing to know is your nothingness”: Gurdjieff (2017) 156. Ouspensky (1949) 142. Gurdjieff (1931) 929–930. See for example Gurdjieff (2014) 127–128. Gurdjieff (1950) 1164. Adie and Azize (2015) 306. Gurdjieff (2009) 2 and 11. Gurdjieff (2009) 103–104. This was cited only to illustrate the point: Gurdjieff says more about love in this passage. Ouspensky (1949) 254, see also 102. Hands (1991) 78. Gurdjieff (1950) 361. Hulme (1997) 93. Hulme (1997) 89. Hulme (1997) 84. Henderson (2007) 123. Gurdjieff (2014) 413. Gurdjieff (2014) 413. Azize (2012) 314 and 319–320. Gurdjieff (1950) 569. Consult the entry for “lopsided” in the index to Anonymous (2012). Ouspensky (1949) 72. Ouspensky (1949) 109–110. Ouspensky (1949) 351–352. Bennett (1962) 189. He had earlier made fruitless enquiries: (1962) 175. Gurdjieff (1950) 1186–1187; (1975) 4, quoted in Section 1.5. De Salzmann is quoted as indicating to a student of Indian background that he could adapt the words used in the exercise because Gurdjieff may have chosen them for someone from the West (see Section 12.3). Patterson (2014) 518.

11 Exercises from the Transcripts of 1941–1946

11.1 Introduction Until the publication of G.I. Gurdjieff Paris Meetings 1943 in 2017 by the Paris Gurdjieff Institute and with the aid of the Gurdjieff Foundations, the main source for the transcripts of Gurdjieff’s group meetings between 1941 and 1946 was the typewritten corpus in the Solita Solano collection of the Library of Congress. The editor’s note to the 2017 volume asserts that the Solano transcripts had been edited, and are in any event incomplete, in comparison with those in the Institute’s archives.1 The original French transcripts have not been published, which means that we have only two checks on the 2017 translations: (1) the French-language transcript of the October 16, 1943, meeting that I found among the papers of the late George Adie with a note saying that it had been sent to the London group by Jeanne de Salzmann and was to be read by Adie, and (2) the transcript of September 1943, which had been earlier published. This earlier publication includes the observation that the notes were taken down by hand during the meeting: “The person who usually takes notes asks a long question. During this time someone else takes notes for him, and then gives back the paper and the pencil.”2 Other than this, nothing is known of how the transcripts were made and whether they were contemporaneously checked.3 The strict accuracy of the 2017 volume is not beyond question. For example, in the 2017 edition of the transcript of the September 9, 1943, meeting, someone tells Gurdjieff that he had not spoken “because one is asleep,” while in the 1996 translation he says: “My question was very personal; not everyone is interested in that.” Almost bizarrely, Gurdjieff’s response in the 2017 transcript is “The question was very typical. Everyone is interested in it,” which is an appropriate response to the statement in the 1996 version, but not to the one in the 2017 book. Further, the 1996 transcript omits any reply from Gurdjieff, but passes straight to the next question—suggesting that neither transcript is scrupulously accurate.4 Examples could be multiplied. Sufficient to say, it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that the transcripts have been afforded a rather cavalier treatment. A new Gurdjieff appears in these transcripts. The intricate and deliberately obscure prose of the First and Third Series has vanished. The speaker is a wonder of concise and direct formulation, some of his phrases being quite powerful. Also, he comes across as both demanding and warm; for instance, on December 7, 1941, he states: “Love of our neighbor: That is the Way. Bring to everyone that which you felt for your parents.”5 Disciplining the intellect to follow concepts such as the Ray of Creation is gone. In its place, Gurdjieff gives practical exercises for use both in quiet contemplation and in the social domain. Purely mental tasks such as those used at the Prieuré (see Section 5.1) almost disappear. The time to be spent on the exercises often varies from person to person: It is anything from eleven minutes to three hours.6 Great emphasis is placed on these practices: I told you to expect nothing from this exercise. It is the exercise which will give you understanding. Others will come after. . . . To understand, it is necessary to do, to have experience. The exercises will give you experience. These exercises were established centuries ago, even before Europe existed.7

The use of the Movements and Transformed-contemplation are the two great innovations in Gurdjieff’s teaching since his Russian era. This accords with the recollection of J. G. Bennett, Med Thring, and George Adie that, with Ouspensky, they were studying the system, but with Gurdjieff, they were implementing it.8 Bennett effectively declares these exercises to represent a breakthrough: “Whereas I went to Paris convinced that self-remembering is both indispensable for man and impossible of attainment, I am now sure that it can be attained, and moreover by the very simple means of involving the powers latent in our own bodies.”9 I shall work through the material thematically rather than chronologically, although, as stated, there are many gaps. By 1942, Gurdjieff had various groups that met on different days of the week. The transcripts of October 16 and 31, 1943, disclose that two groups, at least, the Saturday and the Sunday ones, had a determined series of exercises, such that he could ask Jeanne de Salzmann to teach someone “the first of the Sunday group exercises,” or that of Saturday.10 The groups were graded: The Sunday one was more advanced, hence the lady to whom Gurdjieff spoke on October 16 was urged to “merit entry.” While there must have been a series of exercises for Gurdjieff to be able to specify “the first,” Gurdjieff also improvised them, as he did with Hulme (see Section 10.1). The exercises could be employed with a program or plan (see Section 11.2). When he understands a critical point about the psychology of one pupil, he tells him that he will “give you many exercises for your general functioning.”11 Cutting across all this is the distinction between “objective” and “subjective” exercises (see Section 0.3). On one occasion when Gurdjieff had given someone from the group a counting exercise (see Section 11.3), and someone said that she had tried it and it brought her nothing, Gurdjieff replied: “Try something else. Perhaps that does not correspond to your subjectivity.”12 I am not certain that there is any readily

defined difference in content between subjective and objective exercises, although it seems that some subjective exercises could be given to all, but others could not, as is suggested by that exchange with a woman whose subjectivity was not suited by the exercise. In both the Prospectus and the Herald, he condemned giving exercises indiscriminately to “all and sundry” (see Section 5.5). Two final introductory matters must be noted. First, in these transcripts, Gurdjieff sometimes insisted on taking ten or fifteen minutes for relaxation and self-collection before every exercise.13 This was given as a general rule, and so was often assumed. Also the subject of a tacit understanding was the need to attend to one’s state and one’s intentions before and after any exercise. On December 9, 1946, he said: Parallel with this exercise, one thing is necessary. It is possible that someone obtains a result. But then this result is going to disappear. In order that it may continue to exist, one must do a special thing with the voluntary thought. At the beginning and at the end of each exercise, you must pretend, be compelled, to close again. Think that what you have done stays with you until the next time and that the next time you will obtain more. . . . And it is desirable that you would remember to do nothing which might cause you to emanate a great deal. If you really want to accumulate this thing, you must have all the time a concentrated state, consciously, unconsciously, instinctively. . . . It will even be useful, in finishing the exercise, for each to pronounce his subjective prayer and ask his ideal to help him to guard this thing until the next exercise.14

As we shall see in Chapter 13, the Four Ideals Exercise was designed to help exercitants keep the results of their work. The need to have a conscious intention before one sat down for the Preparation or for any contemplative exercise was impressed many times by both George and Helen Adie. They would suggest, for example, that one look at the chair or stool on which one was going to sit and come to a distinct intention. The second matter of general application is Gurdjieff’s strict injunction to attempt the exercises only when fully awake, so that the three centers of intellect, feeling, and sensation might harmoniously participate. On December 9, 1946, he said to someone who had spoken of certain things that came to him while in bed: Why speak of it? It is an obsession. This can only give you many chances of entering an insane asylum. You must never do unconsciously. Even half-consciously, I advise you. All or nothing. Between the two is only psychopathy, obsession. . . . The conscious effort consists in giving the initiative to all your centers. That is activity.15

It is not possible to consider every comment Gurdjieff makes about exercises in the 2017 edition, in the manner of a concordance. I do, however, attempt to cover what is significant in a somewhat logical order, commencing with relaxation.

11.2 Relaxation Exercises In Gurdjieff’s system as a whole, tension and release (whether physical or emotional) must be kept in equilibrium: Intentional movement is not possible when there is either excessive tension or relaxation. George Adie said that in the face of a great demand, Gurdjieff advised exercitants to “tense their attention.” This effort, said Adie, required all of one’s attention and concentration, but could only be maintained in the moment of need; afterwards, one had to relax. However, Gurdjieff usually placed the emphasis on consciously relaxing rather than on consciously tensing, because of the two, unnecessary tension is the greater problem for most people, as tension wastes energy.16 In a 1922 paper entitled “The Study of Psychology,” Gurdjieff wrote of the necessity to conserve energy by controlling imagination and all other useless activities, such as unintentional inner conversations and picturings, stating that the act of observing these will by itself divert the force that had been feeding imagination into a supply for use in self-observation.17 He went on to say that if our energy was not wasted thus and in unnecessary muscular and emotional tension, the organism could be enlivened, and the “rusty” connections between the centers “greased,” so that the centers could work together properly, leaving a surplus of energy for inner work.18 The starting point, wrote Gurdjieff, is relaxation: Until you learn how to relax, you cannot save energy. . . . Now you cannot relax without attention. If you use your attention for some time, you will begin to relax by habit. Then you can use your attention for something else.19

This emphasis on being able to relax physically and emotionally was constant in Gurdjieff’s teaching; he even advised relaxing the legs to allow the organism as a whole to inhale properly.20 However, the process of relaxation had to be conscious for it to be of practical use. According to Gurdjieff: “It is only when you relax consciously, and when your head retains its role of policeman, that the relaxation has value.”21 On October 16, 1943, Gurdjieff directed one person:

Do this exercise as your work. Two, three times each day, when lying down, relax yourself. Your thoughts, your feeling, all your functions must be occupied with that. Your small muscles, you middling muscles, your large muscles must be relaxed. Make a program. Decide how much time you will spend on it. 15 minutes, half an hour, one hour. Arrange to do it three times each day. Do it as a service. I repeat again: large muscles, middling muscles, small muscles. You don’t know your small muscles. You will get to know them when you start relaxing yourself. You will learn that you have three qualities of muscles, and these three qualities of muscles must become passive, without activity, completely tranquil, without action or manifestation. . . . The first time, perhaps, it will be mediocre, you won’t receive anything. The second time it will be better, and by the tenth time, perhaps, you will have the taste of mediocre relaxation but also of good relaxation. You have these three qualities of muscles in your finger as much as in your head. Lie down, and make your individuality like a warden in control. If your muscles do not relax, then smack that spot. At the beginning, do it lying down, but when you have the taste you can do it sitting or even standing. Indeed, you can do it even while walking. For example, if you walk to the Champs-Elysées, you cannot relax your legs, you will know that at the very first reverberation. But relax your right side, or your left side or your navel.22

On December 9, 1943, and on August 24, 1944, he alluded to the same instruction, and on May 25, 1944, he repeated it, but in a much shorter compass.23 The idea of the three categories of muscle, distinguished by size seems new to Gurdjieff. It elaborates on his instructions about relaxation. Whereas here he speaks of one’s “individuality” as being a guardian, in other places he speaks of the “head” being a “policeman.”24

11.3 A Simple Sensing Exercise If I understand Gurdjieff’s comments, on July 13, 1944, he gave this exercise to Yahne le Toumelin alone and to “no one else” because she was not able to become conscious of her feeling.25 This exercise is a simple one for grounding oneself in sensation, the sensation serving as a foundation for feeling her own presence: [Y]ou do it, for example, seated, leaning comfortably installed in an armchair or on a couch. There is a spot where the arms are attached to the body (region of the shoulders), and a spot where the legs are attached to the body (hip joint); feel and control these four spots all the time. All your attention must be concentrated there. Send everything else to the devil. When you say “I am” imagine that these four spots are like four pillars on which are supported your “I am.” Focus your attention; not on the extremities nor to the interior of the body. All your concentration is fixed on these four places. . . . To begin, learn to know this state; it is like a measure, a clue. You will self-remember when you can feel well these four places.26

Gurdjieff then went on to say that because of “an abnormal life in the past,” it was necessary for her to create a “new quality of functions.” This exercise, or more precisely the sense of presence produced by it, was to be “a barrier.”27 When she could feel that barrier as something definite, then she would be ready for a further exercise. This would lead to a “new interior, independent, and a new exterior, independent . . . without the abnormal ex-functions.”28 Gurdjieff then warned the others not to try it out of curiosity, because it was “dangerous.”29 However, on November 11, 1943, he gave another exercise for raising sensation to consciousness, so that “feeling will start to come into play,” without stressing its being exclusive to the pupil.30

11.4 Exercises for the Body On December 7, 1941, Gurdjieff gave a discipline he said was for the spine: Hold out both arms horizontally at an exact angle, at the same time looking fixedly at a point before you. Divide your attention exactly between point and arms. You will find that there are no associations, no place for them, so occupied you will be with point and position of arms. Do this sitting down, standing then on knees. Twenty-five minutes each position, several times a day—or fewer.31

I have been told that George Adie also knew of an exercise of standing with arms outstretched; however, I have no transcripts of him teaching it, nor did I ever hear him give it. The mention of the cessation of associations is significant: On May 10, 1945, when this exercise was mentioned, Gurdjieff said that associations do not completely stop until death, but “when your attention is consciously busy with something, it doesn’t see them.”32 Gurdjieff returned to this exercise, but little more light was shed on it.33 The following exercise, given on September 25, 1943, is for the sensing of the body. Although in one place Gurdjieff speaks of “feeling,” it is clear from the context that he means to both “sense” and “feel” the upper arm and the solar plexus, as those terms were distinguished in Section 7.3: To begin with, the secret is “I am.” You begin like that. Now, I feel “I.” But how do I feel “I”? What is “I”? I sense this region (touching the top of his arm) and this one (touching his solar plexus). Try that now. And at the same time, I observe this with my head. Do that. . . . I sense and feel these two parts, the top of the arm and the solar plexus, and at the same time, with my head, I observe what is going on. . . . Afterwards, when you have experienced this with one part of your attention and with your head, you will be able to travel within yourself freely. . . . Thanks to this exercise you will increase your power of concentration. It is made for that.34

The exercise, then, is not given for the sake of being able to sense the top of the arm, but rather to be able to concentrate so that one can experience the sensation he calls “I am” anywhere in the body. This will be of signal importance in the Preparation (see Chapter 17). These exercises of sensing the top of the arm or the joints (as in Section 11.3) may be related to what the Athonite monk would have felt in holding

out his arms bent at the elbow (see Section 4.2).

11.5 Exercises for Three Centers On March 11, 1943, Gurdjieff referred to an exercise of “seeing with your three parts.”35 This means, in terms of his teaching, to see with the whole of oneself. To the next questioner, he said that she had been wasting her time reading “because you only read with your head.” He then gave an exercise that may be a form of the one of “seeing with three parts,” adapted for reading. Gurdjieff instructed her: Do this exercise: Read just a little, one page at a time. First you have to understand with your head, then you have to feel, then experience. And then go back reflect on it. Practice reading with your three centers.36

Another exercise to bring the operation of the three centers into simultaneous consciousness was given on October 16, 1943: Here is an exercise. Tense the base of your foot. Do it with your three centers. Do this exercise, then stop, and then begin it again. Do not do it with one center alone. Do it well, with three centers. It is an independent exercise, for you.37

11.6 The Atmosphere Exercise On August 3, 1944, responding to a woman who said, “My decision is automatic. I do not succeed in feeling like a human being,” Gurdjieff said: 1. You must do an exercise to be more collected. Learn to collect yourself. Choose a good moment that seems propitious. Sit down. Let nobody disturb you. Relax yourself. All your attention—all your will is concentrated on your relaxation. You quieten your associations. After—only after, you begin to think. 2. . . . After, when you have quietened your associations, only then, begin the exercise—consciously, with all your attention, all your faculties. 3. You represent to yourself that you are surrounded by an atmosphere. Like the earth, man also has an atmosphere, which surrounds him on all sides, for a meter, more or less—to a limit. 4. In the atmosphere the associations, in ordinary life the thoughts—produce waves. It concentrates at certain places—it recedes; it has movements according to the direction which you impart to it. This depends on the movement of your thought. Your atmosphere is displaced in the direction in which your thought goes. If you think of your mother who is far away, your atmosphere moves towards the place where your mother is. 5. When you do this exercise, you represent to yourself that this atmosphere has limits. For example, one meter and half, shall we say. 6. Then you concentrate all your attention on preventing your atmosphere from escaping beyond the limit. You do not allow it to go further than one meter or one meter and a half. When you feel your atmosphere quietened, without waves, without movement, then with all your will you suck it into yourself—you conserve yourself in this atmosphere. You draw it consciously into yourself. The more you can, the better it is. To start with it is very tiring. 7. That is how you must do the exercise. Afterwards you rest yourself—you send the exercise to the devil. Repeat it afresh in the evening. This exercise is done especially to allow one to have a collected state. 8. It is the first exercise. It is difficult to penetrate into yourself at the first effort. One must compel the atmosphere to remain within its limits—not allow it to go further than it should. It is the first exercise in order to have a collected state. This exercise I have given to everybody. 9. . . . When you have succeeded in doing that, you will be able to have a truly good state, and you will be able, by your will—to re-enter completely into yourselves. 10. When you say “I am” you will sense that you are in yourself, you will sense in the whole of the body—the echo of “I”—and when you say “am” you will have the sensation, completely, that you are you. 11. But if you do it for ten years “I am—I am—I am” it will lead you to nothing but to be a candidate for the madhouse. Do that or nothing. Begin everything again with that exercise. It is the first exercise for remembering oneself.38

If this is “the first exercise for self-remembering,” it is remarkable that it was not taught in Russia or at the Prieuré. In the following conversation with someone who had been trying the exercise, and had found that although it brought a better sense of “I,” that feeling of himself diminished, Gurdjieff said: 12. When you are in the state of remembering—half of your attention must be concentrated on the “I am” and the other half must control the keeping of the state. Your head plays the role of policeman. It watches for you to guard your state. “I am” with the other half of the attention. 13. . . . [while your thought] goes into another country. Your atmosphere—your imagination leaves you, and you remain with your automatic attention. Done in this way it is normal that it diminishes. One must do thousands and thousands of times what I tell you. 14. . . . First of all get used to staying a long time in a collected state.39

I will comment on some of the paragraphs:

1. This sitting, relaxation, and collection is a feature of most but not all the contemplation-like exercises, and especially of the Preparation (see Chapter 17). 3. Gurdjieff did not say very much about the human atmosphere in the earlier part of the teaching, but it became more important in the later years, until in this exercise and the Four Ideals (see Chapter 13), it is critical. 4. The teaching that our muscles, as opposed to our atmospheres, move in the direction of the objects of our thoughts is also found in Meetings with Remarkable Men.40 5. In paragraph 3, the atmosphere is said to extend for about a meter, but here the representation of it is for a meter and a half. 6. So far as I am aware, this is the only reference Gurdjieff ever made to quietening the waves of the atmosphere. When he answered a question about the exercise on August 10, 1944, the week after he had given it, he did not mention waves, although he did emphasize the need to consciously quieten oneself.41 8. This exercise is clearly an objective exercise, he has given it to everybody, but here he teaches it to one member of the group as if it were a subjective exercise, thus confirming my view that objective exercises could also be used as subjective. 11. Although Gurdjieff has said that the exercise must be attempted twice a day and “thousands and thousands of times” (paragraph 13), it must be done with full attention or the results are worse than useless.42 In a variant of this, on January 18, 1944, Gurdjieff said to someone who said that he or she could not do the exercises “because I have been intoxicated by the results” they had found: “You cannot expect result yet. You can only do the exercise. To be able to play tunes takes a long time. . . . Think only of the future, when your playing may acquire a different quality and you may become a pianist.”43 12. George Adie would insist on the role of the head as “policeman,” meaning that the head directs the traffic, as it were. 14. The instruction to remain in the collected state for a long time supports my thesis that Gurdjieff found it essential to introduce Transformed-contemplation so that people could experience in quiet conditions a state they could recall in the social domain. A similar comment was made on August 3, 1944 (see the “Atmosphere Exercise” in Section 11.6).44

11.7 “I Am” Exercises Consistent with Gurdjieff’s earliest recorded teaching, in 1943 he was insisting that his pupils must “acquire an unchangeable ‘I.’ That is what is most important, and you must focus all your efforts on.”45 This is the purpose of those exercises that call for the affirmation “I am.” They form a series of variations on a theme, but the differences are noteworthy. In terms similar to that of the First Assisting Exercise from the Third Series, Gurdjieff advised his students to realize work in their ordinary life, using “this exercise: ‘I am collected . . . present,’ and at the same time, no associations. Make this force you speak of your own. My weakness, I make it mine. ‘I am’ . . . again and again: ‘I am.’ Never forget it. Little by little, your ‘I’ will have contact with your essence. It is necessary to repeat this many times.”46 The use of this affirmation did not stand alone: It had to be linked to all other elements of the method, especially, perhaps, the consciousness of sensation. Gurdjieff advised someone: [Y]ou [have] acquired good material: Make it permanent in your life. It is a very hard task. Remember yourself all the time. Make it permanent with ‘I am.’ Without ceasing, in life, try . . . ‘I am, I can be, I can be that’ . . . Sense yourself as often as possible, and the more you can remember yourself inwardly, the better your future will be.47

Perhaps the most informative of these “I am” exercises was given to Henri Tracol (1909–1997), who was later the head of the Institut Gurdjieff in Paris.48 We know this exercise only from Tracol’s question; which he asked on September 18, 1943: The exercise . . . you gave me eighteen days ago . . . consisted of continual remembering: With each inhalation and exhalation I should think “I am,” should deposit the active elements of the air in the legs while I am lying down or sitting and in the solar plexus when I am standing.49

When Tracol spoke of his feeling of “I,” Gurdjieff replied: Continue the same thing. You will get used to it little by little. Make this taste your own. First you must have the taste. That is to say, you no longer have your associations. The taste arises in you—it is your own—but when you are in a special state. That means that in life it cannot yet happen. In a special state, when you relax a little, you can remember this taste, and you must recognize it.50

Tracol added: “And at the same time, I feel that the real work is in ordinary life,” to which Jeanne de Salzmann replied: “But first you must do it in a special state, and little by little you will succeed in ordinary life.”51 On December 9, 1943, Gurdjieff again used the phrase “special state” for coming to calm in secluded conditions.52 This, in a few sentences, explains why Gurdjieff eventually introduced these contemplation-like exercises, and the absence of such statements from earlier material shows that these exercises for employment in a “special state” were not then in use. The frequent or continuous affirmation of “I am” is a feature of many exercises from this time, culminating in the final exercise he gave George and Helen Adie. The “depositing” of the active elements in the legs is new but recurs in the Four Ideals Exercise. However, the instruction to deposit these in the solar plexus when standing, and in the legs otherwise, is quite new. It may point to the importance of the sensation of the legs. The following, given on July 22, 1943, is to be used in daily life, and hence is of a piece with the exercise of February 16, 1931. I break it down into numbered paragraphs:

1. It is a very big thing, impossible to do in four or five weeks. Four or five months are needed, maybe more . . . I am sure that if you accomplish it, you will get what you are expecting. You deserve to have all the results that this exercise can bring. 2. During your holidays, prepare the ground to come to “I am.” You understand? Now listen carefully to this exercise. “I wish that the person who is looking at me would feel love and respect for me. I wish above all that the desire to help me would appear in that person, and that in all that I think I would be truly worthy of that.” At the same time, when you breathe, you say “I am.” 3. If you do this honestly, conscientiously, as a service, I assure you results in six months. This exercise is your God, even more than your father or your mother. Do it until I tell you it’s enough. 4. . . . Do it two or three times a day. When you wake up, when you go to sleep, and in the middle of the day, before lunch or dinner. You choose three moments for this exercise. If you remember it in between, even automatically, do it.53

Again, I use the same numbering for my comments: 1. See Chapter 18 for my thesis that when Gurdjieff speaks of not expecting results, he means not to identify with definite and immediate results. Gurdjieff says this exercise will need such a lengthy period of time. He had George Adie work at the Four Ideals Exercise for some five months. Different exercises needed different periods of time. 2 This practice of doing an exercise so that the exercitant would influence another’s state was, so far as I am aware, rare. However, a similar exercise was given to a young man on October 21, 1943, with the advice to help his mother when he begins earning money.54 3. These comments seem aimed at instilling a desire to work hard at the exercise. 4. Gurdjieff instructs the exercitant to set times, but when reminders come accidentally, to use them.

On April 20, 1944, Gurdjieff advised one man to make the affirmation when he experienced a depressing emotion.55 This ties in with the advice in the Third Series that, by intentionally concentrating the reverberation of “I am” on any part of the body, it can be cured of “any disharmony.”56 Then, on December 9, 1946, Gurdjieff said: [I]f you ascertain that you work only with one or two centers, know that this is not consciousness. There is only real consciousness with the same intensity in three places. For example, here is an exercise: I am—when you say “I” you feel the three centers. When you say “am,” you feel also the three centers but differently. “I,” it is as if something stood up. “Am,” it is as if, in the three centers something sat down. This is an original explanation.57

Finally, as we shall see in Chapter 18, Gurdjieff’s last exercise to the Adies was basically just this.

11.8 The Filling Up Exercise Gurdjieff had given this exercise sometime before Thursday, May 25, 1944,58 and although he took some questions about it, when one woman told him that she was working at it, he replied that she was not yet ready for any exercise as she needed Preparation. Accordingly, he taught her a basic relaxation exercise, indicating again how fundamental relaxation is for the Gurdjieff exercises. Later, on Thursday, August 3, 1944, because the Filling Up Exercise had not been attempted and had “led to no results,” he gave it again: It is the exercise of filling the body. Maybe someone remembers? I am. When you say “I,” you get an echo. Everyone understands what this sensation is. In this exercise it is not a question of that. One has to sense this echo first in the right leg, then in the left leg, then in the right arm, then in the left, the abdomen, the thorax. Do this series three times. Then the head— once. Three times the whole, and once the head. And repeat if you have time. Twice in the six places. The third time in seven places.59

On May 25, 1944, at what must have been one of the first occasions the group met after the exercise, someone reported that he felt “filled” but had “nervous contractions” he could not “conquer.” Gurdjieff advised him: You do not have the rhythm. It is necessary to do different things. (1) Inhale normally; (2) Retain the air while becoming discontracted; (3) Exhale without becoming contracted. It is not necessary to relax when you retain.60

After the speaker had protested that he always had “contracted exhalations,” Gurdjieff said: “You do not have rhythm, perhaps you have other disharmonies,” and they discussed his physical condition and the possibility that an illness can shift within the body.61 This exercise is based on the idea that an “echo of I” can be heard and directed into a specific part of the body. Although Gurdjieff does not say so here, if to speak of “filling the body” means anything, then the echo has to be understood as somehow filling that part. That there is a rhythm to it is probably true of all rotation exercises, as it was of the Soil Preparing Exercise (see Chapter 7), where the counting was to be done rhythmically. When excercitants lacked rhythm, Gurdjieff effectively advised them to establish an artificial one, in which the inhaled air would be held while they allowed “decontraction,” which in the context probably means of the ribcage. George Adie always insisted that one was to observe rather than to interfere with the breath, but in one case of tense breathing, as the author recalls, he said that allowing relaxation of the rib cage on and after the exhalation (in the brief period between exhalation and inhalation, when the higher hydrogens in the inhaled air are moving through the body) assists the process of conscious relaxation. To judge from The Reality of Being, de Salzmann emphasized the echo “as a feeling of ‘I’ in the contact between my thought and my sensation.”62

11.9 The Web Exercise This exercise is unique in the Gurdjieff repertoire in that it requires the members of a group to work at it in conjunction with each other, both when they had come together as a group and while they went about their usual activities. It hails from the transcript of May 25, 1944, when Gurdjieff said: It is possible to have a common contact through the aim. It is possible with practice. For example, when you are seated together do not spend your time internally like in life. Use this occasion to do an exercise; suggest to yourself that this atmosphere about you, wakes up to the desire to go towards the aim . . . everybody here. This atmosphere is warming for an aspiring with all your being towards a common aim. When you find yourselves together, suddenly, automatically it produces this heating. You can have a reciprocal action on a whole city. Paris is big; but if you begin it will become, little by little, possible that, if one movement is produced in a corner of this atmosphere, it will start an unrest which will spread over all. You have knowledge of different telepathic acts. It is as if the atmosphere became large; a material is formed like the web of a spider. If, in one of the meshes, a new force enters, this can correspond in the whole network, like in an electric conduit. . . . You create a factor of inclination for succeeding in your aim with all your mass. For this it is necessary that two things happen, auto-suggestion and representation by forms, but subjective forms. In the beginning you will understand what is happening; it is not important to picture it to oneself exactly. Imagine that in you there is a network. If one current comes in one point, it shall arrive everywhere, if one sensation of warmth is in one point, all the points shall feel the heat, the cold. Picture how what happens in one place happens everywhere.63

After some further exchange, Gurdjieff instructed them: Try now to do this exercise of forming a web. The whole brotherhood also did the same thing. You know the proverb: “one for all, all for one.” In ordinary life, this is a lie, because it is not realizable. But here is a brotherhood. They all have one common aim. One of them is there; but he must desire that all attain it, and inversely, the others are also obliged to help him. . . . There exist two things; matter and force. This exercise is to urge, to excite, to animate.64

This exercise builds on what Gurdjieff has been saying about atmospheres, and controlling one’s own. The aggregation of atmospheres now forms a “web.” This is reminiscent of the Four Ideals Exercise in that implicit in Gurdjieff’s teaching is a view of the world in which there are invisible realities that are the result of our own human actions and states and, now that they are in existence, make possible new connections and undreamt-of assistance. Second, says Gurdjieff, when the people whose atmospheres form the web come together with a common aim, there is a warming in the webs. This invisible reality is not something neutral: It is positive. It also means that a conscious aim, especially perhaps a common conscious aim, is an active element not only for the group, but even for society, represented here by the city of Paris. Third, whatever new element enters the web, even at one point alone, by that very fact enters the web as a whole: Movement is effectively instantaneous in time and in space, for conscious activity is realized in higher dimensions. Fourth, this action depends on what he calls “auto-suggestion and representation by subjective forms.” Again, in the Four Ideals, these will be critical factors. It means that a constructive power of imagination is available to us: The difference between this and the imagination Gurdjieff called “self-deception” in the Third Series is that this imagination is controlled, it is common among the members of a brotherhood, and the cobweb is held together at the apex by the shared conscious aim. Fifth, together with these three essential elements (aim, auto-suggestion, and representation) could be added the desire that all other benefit. The wish is critical; without that there is no brotherhood and nothing to animate. An animating wish is implicit in Gurdjieff’s saying: “This exercise is to urge, to excite, to animate.”

11.10 An Exercise of “I Am,” Breathing, and External Considering This exercise is a direct successor of those dealt with in Chapter 10. On September 16, 1943, a member of Gurdjieff’s wartime Paris group referred to difficulties he had found with a certain exercise. From his question, it apparently involved seeing another person. From Gurdjieff’s reply, it must have required the conscious assimilation of air. Gurdjieff said: You must use the time when you don’t see the person to prepare yourself. How to prepare oneself? You can only do one thing: Consciously strengthen your intention to have contact with this person. You can strengthen it by saying to yourself, “I am.” You breathe consciously. You say, “I am.” When you say “I,” you inhale the air consciously with all its active elements. When you say “am,” you accumulate some energy in your accumulator and you think about making use of this energy. You visualize the person with whom you are working and you think that when you see him, the more concentrated you are, the more you will be in contact with him. Then what would have taken seven attempts will be accomplished in one.65

Not only are similarities to the two above-mentioned exercises evident, but it also shows what may be a growing tendency to advise his pupils to prepare, a direction that finds its apogee in the morning Preparation. What is new in this direction, however, is the distinction of two different experiences for “I” and “am,” and in particular the teaching that on “am” one accumulates energy in one’s accumulator and can call on that energy. In the Russian years he taught about the accumulators of the human organism.66 That teaching had not been discarded or superseded, but it was not highlighted in these groups. Further, the reference to being able to do in one meeting what would have been done in seven shows, if further evidence were required, that when Gurdjieff spoke of the exercitant of the Fourth Way being able to achieve fast results by preparing a pill, he was probably referring to these breathing exercises: “you will do in one year what you might have done in fifteen.”67

However, after giving this answer, Gurdjieff gave another of those present a variant of this exercise that downplayed the importance of the air but highlighted that of the affirmation: Every day you and your brother see each other; take as a task never to meet your brother without doing what I’m going to tell you. You will say to him, “Remember yourself.” And when you have said it, you will think inwardly, “I am you, you are me,” with all your being. . . . And with these words the emanations must also go out towards him.68

This alludes to Gurdjieff’s projected inscription for his father’s gravesite, should that ever be found: I AM THOU THOU ART I HIS IS OURS WE ARE BOTH HIS SO MAY ALL BE FOR OUR NEIGHBOUR.69

In that same meeting he gave a similar exercise for when seeing one’s parents,70 and on another occasion he gave a woman an exercise that involved having before her photographs of her absent siblings, and wishing them well for their future.71 In another meeting, Gurdjieff advised two people to call up the faces of their parents, and to have remorse for their actions toward them. To the first person, whose parents were deceased, he added, in terms reminiscent of the chapter on Prince Nijeradze (see Section 1.2): “They cannot do any more where they are, they have no bodies. You must work for them.”72 On August 10, 1944, giving a similar exercise involving one’s family, he said that it was possible to work to change them for the better, remembering oneself whenever one met them. This was harder, he implied, than to change them for the better, for “It is easy to suggest evil to another.”73 This is one of the very few occasions on which Gurdjieff suggested that one should actually work to change another person. Demonstrating the intimate connection between these contemplation-like exercises and the tasks Gurdjieff gave for use in daily life, the social domain, consider this instruction from an undated transcript to a schoolteacher who felt that teaching was an “empty” thing: Everything that you do must become a part of your work. . . . Your class must be part of your task. Your task is to help. You must not see the children in their manifestations, but in their future. You must wish to help that future. You must put yourself in their place. Remember how you were at their age. . . . When you think “I am” at the same time wish to help.74

In another meeting, he said to someone who lamented that he was unable to help some malnourished poverty-stricken boys (it was Paris during the German occupation): Excuse me, but you could have done something. You could have given something to nourish them. Not literally, but you could have seen to it that they had something to eat. If objectively, you had loved them; if, objectively you had wanted them to have something to eat, this would have been enough. They would have gone out and, automatically, they would have found someone to give them something to eat. . . . Think like a man, think about helping your neighbor with all your heart, with real pity. Do you want him to eat well? First, convince yourself, collect yourself inside and pray: “I am, I want to be, for him.” And believe me . . . before he has taken ten steps into the street, he will meet someone who will give him something to eat. This is a law. . . . Such is the power of feeling pity, of wishing, of loving with the whole of one’s presence.75

It is, I suggest, critical to this that to have an effective wish is not easy; rather, it is a real action, possible only for one on the path of conscious evolution, able to remember oneself. It does raise a question as to the limits of this idea in Gurdjieff’s thought: It would seem that one might be able to have such a wish for people one meets (e.g., with one’s own family). It does not seem that Gurdjieff is teaching some quasi-magical way of feeding the world.

11.11 An Exercise for Active Reasoning At the Prieuré, on February 13, 1923, Gurdjieff gave directions for what he called “simple reasoning, active reasoning.” He offered this example: M. called me a fool. Why should I be offended? I don’t take offense, such things do not hurt me. Not because I have no selflove, maybe I have more self-love than anyone here. Maybe it is this very self-love that does not let me be offended. I think, I reason in a way exactly the reverse of the usual way. He called me a fool. Must he necessarily be wise? He may himself be a fool or a lunatic. One cannot demand wisdom from a child. I cannot demand wisdom from him. His reasoning was foolish. Either someone has said something to him about me, or he formed his own foolish opinion that I am a fool—so much the worse for him. I know that I am not a fool, so it does not offend me. If a fool has called me a fool, I am not affected inside. But if in a given instance I was a fool and am called a fool, I am not hurt because my task is not to be a fool . . . So he reminds me . . . I shall think about it and perhaps not act foolishly next time.76

This could be considered a mental discipline. On December 9, 1943, in an answer to a woman who wished to be free of a “haunting image,” Gurdjieff used this type of advice, but merged it, as it were, with the Genuine Being Duty Exercise (see Section 6.3) to produce a contemplation-like exercise: Seated, calm, you relax carefully. Then, as if you were in front of an unknown person, you begin to influence yourself through suggestion. With your consciousness you explain to your subconsciousness that all of this is slavery and that it is stupid to be dependent on whoever it may be. Explain it to yourself as to someone else. One time, ten times, you explain it to yourself. And, in fact, you can take in these things like someone to whom one explains the same thing ten times, because your individuality and your body are exactly like you and another person. For you, your body is like a stranger . . . Not once, but ten times during the day, you can influence yourself through suggestion.77

Comments made in an undated transcript may illuminate Gurdjieff’s injunction to “explain it as to a stranger.” There he said that the organic body is a “real animal” that only knows its laws and wishes to satisfy its demands for food, sleep, and sex, and so: “One must feel it as an animal. One must feel it as a stranger.”78 However: The psychic body . . . has other needs, other aspirations, other desires. It belongs to a different world, it is of a different nature. There is a conflict between these two bodies—one wishes, the other does not. It is a struggle which one must reinforce voluntarily by our work, by our will. It is this fight which exists naturally, which is the specific state of man, which we must use to create a third thing, a third state different from the other two, which is the Master . . . The body is an animal, the psyche is a child. One must educate the one and the other.79

When Gurdjieff speaks like this, he stands close to the ascetic disciplines of more traditional religion, and perhaps especially close to the monastic tradition in Christianity.

11.12 Aim and Decision This exercise of August 24, 1944, is based on the same principles as the Exercise Concerning Aim and Energy (see Section 10.2). In answer to a question from Dr. Aboulker about how he does not make decisions, but rather just adapts himself to whatever the exigencies oblige, Gurdjieff stated: 1. It is necessary to keep aside two or three hours free. 2. Relax yourself. Put all your attention, all your possibility, on relaxing the three classes of muscles. 3. Further, when you have separated yourself, that is to say, the machine is one thing and the psyche another [without letting them fuse again] choose and decide. 4. You have prepared a paper on which you write your decision. 5. Continue to guard organically this state. 6. Write down your decision and at the same time write down different remarks on your state. 7. Then you can come back to your previous state. Forget what took place. For one or two days don’t touch it. If you remember this state, try to remember the taste of it, but without thinking about what has been written. 8. Then believe what you have written and stop believing in yourself. Your paper should be for you a holy image, your gospel, but remember that you are still small, and that you can only do little things. After you will be able to have faith in the future.80

I would comment: 1. The exercise of December 29, 1930, which bears a striking resemblance, called for the exercitant to sit for one hour. Gurdjieff now raises it to two or three hours. This is extremely lengthy for a Gurdjieff exercise. 2. In Section 11.2 we saw Gurdjieff’s mention of relaxing three classes of muscles. It is interesting that Gurdjieff speaks of putting not only all one’s attention but also all one’s “possibility” on the relaxation. Does he mean “capacity” or “to bring to mind one’s future,” or a combination, or something else? From the comment in the paragraph about “faith in the future,” it may be that Gurdjieff had no precise meaning in mind, but said this in order to arouse the exercitant’s feeling. 3. Gurdjieff often spoke of the need to separate one’s head from the functioning of the organism.81 The sensation exercises had this aim, among others. On 7 December 1941, he gave on such exercise and said: “The key to everything – remain apart.”82 4– The advice to write one’s decision on a sheet of paper, recalls his advice of 1930, but now he adds the requirement to also 6. make notes about the exercitant’s state, and to “guard organically this state,” which would mean that the head should act as “policeman.” 7. This instruction is intended to bring about an encounter between two different states: the ordinary one, and the more collected one brought about by the exercise. 8. The instruction to “. . . believe what you have written and stop believing in yourself,” is new, but consistent with Gurdjieff’s teaching that we are too identified with our ordinary “I.” It is interesting, given the ambiguity about religion which I have noted in Gurdjieff (section 2.11), that he should compare the paper to “a holy image, your gospel.”

11.13 Counting Exercises: Improving on Orage Gurdjieff’s Soil Preparing Exercise included counting, and in discussing that exercise, I noted the principle of accustoming oneself to work, which is found in Meetings with Remarkable Men. On October 21, 1943, Gurdjieff gave a counting exercise to someone who seems to have been new in the group: Whenever you have free time, you count: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 . . . up to 50. After 50, you count backwards 49, 48, 47, 46, etc., and then you begin again. After you have done this seven times, you sit down for five or ten minutes. You relax and say, “I am, I wish to be, I can be. Not to serve the doing of harm but the doing of good. I will help my neighbor when I have being. I am.” After that, count again, but consciously, not automatically. Do this during all your free time.83

On February 8, 1944, he made a passing reference to exercises “with numbers, names and so on,” reminding us of the substitution of names for numbers at the Prieuré and in Orage’s exercises (see Section 5.2).84 The arousing of feeling by an altruistic aim is reminiscent of his comments to the Rope in November 1936 (see Section 10.5). It places in context his comment in 1916 that “In order to help others one must first learn to be an egoist, a conscious egoist.”85 These exercises perhaps had the effect of producing people who could be “conscious egoists.” It is these affirmations, and in particular the sensing of “I am,” that differentiates this from Orage’s psychological exercises: A task has become an instance of Transformed-contemplation.

11.14 Miscellaneous Exercises and Allusions The transcripts are full of references to exercises that were given previously but are not otherwise known.

For example, on December 7, 1941, someone asked about an exercise in which the attention had to be placed on a “small motionless point.”86 There is reference, in the transcript of January 16, 1944, to an exercise in which one demands “from the body the substances necessary to bring to the face expressions of goodness, justice, honesty, impartiality and intelligence,”87 but no more is known of it. An exercise given on February 8, 1944, would sound like a simple affirmation, except that Gurdjieff treated it much more seriously. To a person who was not doing his exercise well, Gurdjieff advised: For you specially, I give an exercise. Each time you feel the beginning of weakness, relax and then think seriously: “I wish the result of my weakness to become my own strength.” This will accumulate in you for your future work. Each man knows which weakness he has in him. Each time this weakness appears in you, stop yourself and do this exercise. It is a very necessary exercise for you.88

It was a subjective exercise, for one person alone, and it sounds as if it had been improvised, yet according to the principle that one can counter weakness by relaxing and changing the direction of one’s thought. This sort of exercise approximates to a prayer, although not directly addressed to a higher power. While it is rather simple, Gurdjieff evidently considered it significant and expected the exercitant to find it so, too. Finally, one small exercise, what I would call a task, indicates how Gurdjieff intended his methods to be used in everyday life. On December 9, 1946, he said: In general, it is necessary to create some automatic factors of recall. . . . It is very easy. For example, how do you sit down at the table? You have never ascertained with which foot you sit down. You observe that there also you have automatism. You will connect something with this automatism, for a reminder of your work. With each time that you sit down to the table, this thing will be able to act as a factor of recall. Another example, when you wash, you take a towel. Look to see with which hand. . . . Do it consciously, take it with the left hand instead of the right. In this manner you make a contact with your work, in order to self-remember. Another example . . . Which sock do you put on first? . . . You find out that you begin with the left, always. Set a task: Begin with the right. And connect this new way of doing with the recall of your work.89

Gurdjieff’s natural son, Nicolas, when he was living with Gurdjieff before World War II, would give himself small tasks such as these, including the one of putting on the other sock first when getting out of bed.90 Although these are not contemplative exercises, they could be related to them, in that one would plan such tasks at the end of the Preparation (see Chapter 17).

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72.

Gurdjieff (2017) xvii–xviii. That the Solano papers were either poorly transcribed or edited appears, for example, from the incoherent exchange between Gurdjieff and Duprée at Gurdjieff (2009) 143. Needleman and George Baker (1996) 279. A date for the transcript is given only in the French original: de Parfieu 297. Sometimes even the dates are different; for instance, the meeting of Thursday, October 7, in Gurdjieff (2017) 194–205 is the same meeting as Friday, October 8, in Gurdjieff (2009) 55–63. One wonders how the mistake could arise. Compare Needleman and George Baker (1996) 274 with Gurdjieff (2017) 147. Gurdjieff (2009) 2. Compare Gurdjieff (2009) 171 and 175. Gurdjieff (2009) 116 (January 18, 1944). It is a moot point whether Gurdjieff literally means that the exercises were fashioned before the settlement of Europe, or whether this simply invests the exercises with an allure to inspire the pupil to put more effort into them. Separate oral communications from Adie and Thring; as to Bennett, see note 9. Bennett (1962) 198–199. Gurdjieff (2017) 220–221 and 246. Gurdjieff (2017) 245. Gurdjieff (2017) 251. Gurdjieff (2009) 161 and (2017) 338–339. Gurdjieff (2009) 180. Gurdjieff (2009) 178. Gurdjieff (2014) 122. Gurdjieff (2014) 124. Gurdjieff (2014) 126. Gurdjieff (2014) 126–127. Gurdjieff (2017) 138–139. Gurdjieff (2009) 178 (December 9, 1946). Gurdjieff (2009) 67–68, preferring my own translation to the less accurate (2017) 222–223. Gurdjieff (2009) 95, 171, and 139, respectively; for December 9, 1943, also Gurdjieff (2017) 318. See the Atmosphere Exercise, below, plus Gurdjieff (2009) 100 (undated) and 177 and 178 (December 9, 1946). Gurdjieff (2009) 140. Yahne le Toumelin was born in 1923 and, according to the French Wikipedia site, became a Buddhist nun and is still alive and living in the Dordogne where she paints, having been a noted Surrealist: https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yahne_Le_Toumelin, accessed June 13, 2017, and again on January 17, 2019. Gurdjieff (2009) 141. Gurdjieff (2009) 141. Gurdjieff (2009) 141. A further question from le Toumelin on August 24, 1944, explains that her problem was her fear, timidity, and weakness. However, no further light is shed on this exercise: Gurdjieff (2009) 170. Gurdjieff (2017) 275. Gurdjieff (2009) 3. Gurdjieff (2009) 175. Gurdjieff (2017) 182, 243, 340, and 356 and (2009) 152. Gurdjieff (2017) 179–180. Gurdjieff (2009) 6. Gurdjieff (2017) 24. Gurdjieff (2009) 65. Gurdjieff (2009) 148–149. Gurdjieff (2009) 150. Gurdjieff (1963) 192. Gurdjieff (2009) 162–163. See also an undated transcript in similar terms except for the warning: Gurdjieff (2009) 109. Gurdjieff (2009) 118. Gurdjieff (2009) 150. Gurdjieff (2017) 39; see also 40, 46, 49, 81 (referring to “a higher state of ‘I am’ ”), 89, 92–94, 138, 161–162, 179, 289, 298. Dated July 22, 1943, in Gurdjieff (2009) 25–26 but July 15, in (2017) 74–75. Gurdjieff (2017) 198, with similar comments on 200. Opening page, Tracol (1994). Gurdjieff (2017) 172. Gurdjieff (2017) 173. Gurdjieff (2017) 173. Gurdjieff (2017) 317–318. Gurdjieff (2017) 86–87. Gurdjieff (2017) 235. Gurdjieff (2009) 125. More concisely, see the advice to make the affirmation at certain appointments (August 3, 1944), Gurdjieff (2009) 146. See Section 6.2, citing Gurdjieff (1975) 134. Gurdjieff (2009) 182–183. Gurdjieff (2009) 134 and 135. Gurdjieff (2009) 155. Gurdjieff (2009) 136. Gurdjieff (2009) 136–137. De Salzmann (2010) 43, see also 139 and 164. Gurdjieff (2009) 135. Gurdjieff (2009) 137–138. Gurdjieff (2017) 161–162. Ouspensky (1949) 233–235. Compare Ouspensky (1949) 50–51 with Gurdjieff (2017) 163. For other comments on the importance of breathing in “I am” and on acquiring new strength through the air, see (2017) 44, 75, 138–139, and 327. Gurdjieff (2017) 163. Gurdjieff (1963) 49. Gurdjieff (2017) 168. Gurdjieff (2017) 251–252, see also 211 where he refers to the possibility of such an exercise. Gurdjieff (2009) 103. On February 8, 1944, he said to one man that his father “is answerable for your life in another world”; Gurdjieff (2009) 121.

73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89. 90.

Gurdjieff (2009) 164. Gurdjieff (2009) 101–102. Needleman and Baker (1996) 279. This exchange is not otherwise published to my knowledge. Gurdjieff (2014) 240–241. Gurdjieff (2017) 315–316. Gurdjieff (2009) 105. Gurdjieff (2009) 105. Gurdjieff (2009) 171–172. See under “separation” in the index to Gurdjieff (2009). Gurdjieff (2009) 5. Gurdjieff (2017) 229. Gurdjieff (2009) 123. Ouspensky (1949) 103. Gurdjieff (2009) 2. It seems that this or a similar exercise is spoken of on September 25, 1943: Gurdjieff (2009) 49. Gurdjieff (2009) 110. Gurdjieff (2009) 124. Gurdjieff (2009) 181–182. De Val (1997) 77.

PART III EXERCISES FROM GURDJIEFF’S PUPILS

12 The Reality of Being

12.1 Introduction The most important book for Gurdjieff’s theoretical teaching is generally considered to be Ouspensky’s In Search of the Miraculous. However, the preeminent practical guide is probably now Jeanne de Salzmann’s The Reality of Being, published posthumously in 2010. De Salzmann (1889–1990) joined Gurdjieff in Tiflis in about 19191 and remained with or in contact with him until his death. The group she had built up from her late husband’s pupils, and presented to Gurdjieff in 1941, formed the basis of his Paris groups.2

12.2 The Reality of Being This book is a translation from French-language “notebooks” that were “kept . . . like diaries” by Jeanne de Salzmann, with a few additions from “other, recorded statements.”3 They were translated and edited by an anonymous “small group of Jeanne de Salzmann’s family and followers.”4 Although the entries that this volume comprises were written over a period of forty years,5 the book provides dates neither for them nor for the mysterious “other, recorded statements.” The pieces are edited and collated in such a way that, uninstructed by the editors’ foreword, one would think that the book had been written as a unified whole. The foreword states that de Salzmann declared that she was writing a book, although what she left was rather “notebooks . . . carefully preserved.” There is no indication as to who edited them, or their procedure. The editors disclose that “She often echoed, and sometimes repeated, his [i.e., Gurdjieff’s] exact words. . . . No attempt has been made to identify isolated excerpts taken by her from Gurdjieff or other writers.”6 De Salzmann’s approach to the contemplative work relates it to the social domain of life: The Fourth Way is to be lived. In the work to be present I need first to find each day a certain quality of coming back to myself. Then I must become able to observe my identification with the life force and find a place in myself in which at certain moments my attention can hold itself between the two.7

Here we come up against one of the problems with the writing in this volume: The poor editing of the notes has resulted in a certain vagueness. What is “identification with the life force”? I doubt anyone ever really has an experience of identifying with a “life force.” Are we to understand identifying with the energy in our bodies, or with life in general, or what? And then, when it is stated that the Fourth Way is to be lived, are we to compare it to something that is not to be lived? It is quite possible that the meaning is the idea de Salzmann expressed in Gurdjieff’s Paris groups, and that was quoted in Section 11.7, that the exercitants should work in a “special state,” and then test themselves in the social domain. A few pages later, de Salzmann alludes to “When I withdraw from life to open to what I am.”8 She may be referring to the morning Preparation, but this is not clear. Ironically, when the notes do treat of sensation exercises, the context is not given, so that when we read the following we do not know whether she means that she is walking down the street, whether she is sitting alone, or whether that does not matter at all: Now, for example, I turn to my body and sense that my body is here. I sense my left arm— that is, I have an impression of my left arm. As soon as this impression reaches me, it provokes my thought, which says, “arm . . . left arm.” And at the moment I say this to myself, I lose the impression. In thinking of the arm, I believe I know it. I have more trust in the thought than in the fact, the real existence of the arm.9

The result is that when we come to a reference to “work in the quiet” where “the position of the body is very important,”10 we have to guess what this “work in the quiet” is. On the next page, de Salzmann gives what must be intended as advice for the posture to be taken during an exercise, including what the Adies called the “Preparation”: My posture will be more stable if I am seated on the floor, on a cushion so that the knees are lower than the hips. One foot is placed, if possible, on the thigh or calf of the other leg. Crossing the legs checks the active impulse and allows the deepest level of quietude.11

The book is poorly edited and relies on the reader projecting a background to make sense of the text. For example, it might or might not be the Preparation that is referred to in this passage: Each day I have to give as much time as it takes—sometimes more, sometimes less—to come to a clear perception of an inner Presence, a life in me that is much higher than my body.12

De Salzmann writes: “What I exercise is not my body, not my functions. It is the whole being.”13 She advises that one should be “in a very relaxed body” so that the “sensation of another Presence” can

appear.14 But, she adds, the exercises should only be used when there is a need and an understanding: “This is why it is important never to experiment blindly with an exercise or to do an exercise that was given for others.”15 She then gives an exercise for the sensation of energy in the limbs, “alive and fluid,” together with a counting exercise.16 Although the language is of logical connection, the reason that one should not attempt an exercise given to others is unclear. Then, is all experimentation “blind”? While de Salzmann refers to a “science underlying the Fourth Way,”17 the tone is often not so much scientific as hieratic. Some of her original formulations seem to me complementary, rather than contradictory, of Gurdjieff’s approach: I hold myself in balance, feeling a depth of sensation that I do not ordinarily experience. My sensation is an obedience, obedience to the free vibration, the free action of the life force in me. Then I pass to the solar plexus. Here also the tensions let go. I obey. I do not direct the energy. It does not belong to me, it is free.18

Then, some of the contents seem incomplete: The experience of energy entering through the head and passing into the body19 omits the most important aspects, which do, however, appear in the Preparation as it was taught by the Adies (see Section 17.4). We now turn to some noteworthy exercises from de Salzmann.

12.3 An Exercise for Feeling Having spoken of the need to come to a state of silence so that “my feeling is no longer attached to my usual egoism,”20 de Salzmann states: Gurdjieff gave us the exercise “I am” to work on feeling. In a collected state I come to the feeling “I.” I direct it into my right arm—“I”—and then have a sensation in my right leg—“am.” Thereafter, I have a feeling, right leg; sensing, left leg; feeling, left leg; sensing left arm; feeling, left arm; sensing, right arm. I do this three times, each time feeling “I” and sensing “am.” Then when I have done it three times, I feel the whole body—“I”—and sense the whole body—“am.” I experience “I” always as feeling, “am” as sensing. Feeling is a more immediate quality of sensing. This exercise can also be practiced beginning successively with the right leg, left leg and so on. The words “I am” can be replaced by the words “Lord . . . have mercy.”21

I deal with a similar exercise, one of the “Lord have mercy” exercises, in Chapter 14.22 De Salzmann told Ravi Ravindra, who is of Indian background, about this exercise: “Maybe Mr. Gurdjieff brought it for the people in the West. You can say the words which touch you. This exercise can help.”23 Incidentally, this supports my thesis that Gurdjieff found, through trial and error, that he had to make more adaptations for people in the West than he had anticipated. Later in the volume, we find her explanation of what she means by the “collected state”—that is, the state of “collected attention,”24 an attention that, in one clear view, as it were, embraces being relaxed and aware of sensation, of feeling, and of one’s presence. Perhaps it is called “collected” not only because these faculties are brought into consciousness together, but also because one is collected, so to speak, within one’s atmosphere. The Atmosphere Exercise, which was dealt with in Section 11.6, is also set out here, albeit in a reduced form.25 De Salzmann also provides a shorter version of the Second Assisting Exercise,26 and just the barest indications of the Four Ideals Exercise, yet enough to show that she was aware of at least part of it.27

12.4 The “I, Me” Exercise I shall not set out all of this exercise. It suffices to say that it is not attributed to Gurdjieff, and I would query any such ascription. It mentions a “substance of I.” I am unaware that Gurdjieff ever did so. It is not necessarily inconsistent with his teaching, but Gurdjieff tended to speak more generally of the need for many substances and for their transformation and refinement into higher hydrogens. However, there were indications given from time to time that “I” was crystallized from a particularly high substance. This may be what is meant by “behind real ‘I’ lies God”—that is, that only the substance of God is finer, for Nicoll once taught: Mr. Gurdjieff said: “Behind Real I lies God.” Real I must be put somewhere at the level of the note Si in the Ray of Creation just below God as Absolute. To be conscious in Real I and conscious in three forces must be very closely related if not identical.28

Also, de Salzmann introduces another two new concepts here: that of “recapturing” this material of I, and that of allowing it to “melt and be dissolved in the whole organism, so that it is not fixed anywhere.”29 It is as if the substance was originally in one place but has since run loose, frozen into granular lumps in certain parts of the body, and must now be thawed and evenly spread. So much novelty warrants caution before attributing this to Gurdjieff. Further, speaking of a sense of “I” above the head is unknown to me in Gurdjieff, who on April 29, 1943, said: “Only he can be my real pupil who, every time he says, ‘I am,’ feels it resonate in the same place in himself—feels himself to be the same all these moments.”30 De Salzmann’s formula does not seem to be consistent with Gurdjieff’s. De Salzmann mentions the “pathways and centers of gravity particular to it [the astral body].”31 On

December 9, 1946, Pierre Schaeffer (1910–1995)32 asked about an exercise, something “turning up” in his limbs [probably with the breath], and being “exhausted.” Gurdjieff replied that the first thing was the sensation, and then, after that, the “way by which you pour out.”33 Gurdjieff spoke of a flowing through the lungs, on either side of the navel, then to “all the sphere of the sexual organs,” and back to the solar plexus. He also showed a pathway along the back to the head.34 This may well be what Schaeffer was referring to in his essay “The Old Man and his Movements” when he remembered “the spiral that he used to draw for us to show us where the straight lines of our evolution would begin to turn.”35 Gurdjieff later said: Tomorrow you shall do this exercise to the end. Gradually as you have need of it, you shall use this path. . . . It is important to know these paths. Later we shall speak of stations and of forks. From here to there, there are three stations. From each station, one must go in one direction and not in another. If you go to the left, instead of going to the right, you can crush a dog or breathe the stink of a sewer.36

This is reminiscent of the idea behind the Hindu nadīs, the 72,000 channels of breath and energy that are related to the subtle body.37 But even the most cursory glance at this material will show significant differences from Gurdjieff’s indications.38 There are indications that some such system was known at Mount Athos; Trompf states: At least we know, from the brilliantly colored manuscripts on the holy Mount Athos, that Eastern Orthodoxy worked with something closely related to the cakra system (in fact it is one of the mysteries of comparative religion as to who formulated this system first). . . . Here I rely on research by my doctoral student the late John Henshaw on Mss in the Greek Orthodox monasteries of the Holy Mount Athos.39

Professor Trompf generously assisted me with contacts in the Greek Orthodox Church, but attempts to obtain or even view the material have proved quite fruitless. Gurdjieff could have learned the Indian ideas directly, since he traveled there and somehow managed to negotiate the language barrier, or he could have learned them indirectly.40 However, the Indian system is very elaborate, and finds no other reflection in Gurdjieff. An Athonite source would be possible: Gurdjieff claimed to understand Athonite exercises, and as I have contended, almost certainly knew of and adapted to his own use the Prayer of the Heart and the Jesus Prayer. Were there an Athonite tradition about channels being followed by the air as it enters during the prayer, this would be a more likely origin. The problem with this theory is that apart from Mr. Hennessy’s research, which is known only at second hand, no evidence of such a tradition is available to me. This exercise is, so far as I can tell, unparalleled in Gurdjieff’s system. It is not impossible that it comes from Gurdjieff, either directly or adopted, but de Salzmann does not say this. Certainly, the entire intellectual context of a higher-being-body being formed from fine substances as the vehicle of real I is pure Gurdjieff. But did he teach that real I was present in knotty lumps that could be melted down, and that situating “I” above the head would help the process? If it is an authentic Gurdjieff exercise, it is the most unusual of those known. After I had written the first draft of this section and come to this conclusion, someone who had been a student of de Salzmann, and who wishes to remain anonymous, assured me that the published version is not an accurate version of what de Salzmann would say. He did not, however, feel at liberty to disclose the true exercise.

12.5 Continuity and Discontinuity It could be that the use of Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation has disappeared from most Gurdjieff groups, due to the influence of Jeanne de Salzmann, for her teaching was not in full continuity with Gurdjieff’s. There are at least three questions: her authority, the polarization to her, and her institution of the “New Work.” First, we have the question of her authority. Although there is a little controversy over it, the bulk of accounts by those with Gurdjieff in the last years was to the effect that he clearly enough indicated that de Salzmann was qualified to lead his work after his death, and had his confidence. When he told one person that God was too far away for them to have direct relations with him, Gurdjieff advised: “You will look for your God when you have felt yourself guided in the right direction . . . for instance by Mme. de Salzmann. Then she will be your God. She is not God, but she will be your first stage . . . make all your prayers and manifestations pass through her.”41 This is hardly endorsing her as a prima inter pares, and nothing more. Other people had other responsibilities, but none of them were associated in so senior a role with him in his apartment, at the meals, in the groups, and in the Movements.42 Whenever a leader is gone, the charge will inevitably be made that the successors have changed the teaching or the practices or both. Touching de Salzmann, this is sometimes said in criticism and sometimes in praise. There is no doubt both that she could be absolutely true to Gurdjieff’s tradition and that she did instigate changes, adding new practices and discarding established ones. The longer she continued, the less she used Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation, substituting her own “sittings” for it.43 This book is too short to attempt any evaluation of de Salzmann’s fidelity to her charge. This leads us to the second question: the polarization to her. Consider Tchechovitch’s memoir, Tu l’aimeras. The original French includes quite a ringing endorsement:

«Toute approche pour établir des relations plus étroites avec moi se fait par l’intermédiaire de Jeanne, je lui ai confié mes affaires» me dit un jour Monsieur Gurdjieff et, après une courte reflexion, il ajouta: «Jeanne ne m’a jamais trompé.»44 “Any approach to establish closer relations with me is made through the mediation of Jeanne. I have confided my affairs to her,” Mr. Gurdjieff said to me one day, and after brief consideration, he added: “Jeanne has never deceived me.” [Author’s translation]

However, this was not sufficient for the English translation by one of the Foundation groups (which purports to be a translation of what was published in French), under the direction of her son, Michel de Salzmann, for there we find this: He solemnly stated more than once: “Whoever seeks a relationship with me must come through Jeanna. I have entrusted the continuation of my work to her, and she has my complete confidence. She has never let me down.”45

What the original text reports Gurdjieff had said on one day to Tchechovitch is now solemnly asseverated “more than once.” From a statement that his affairs have been trusted to her because she is honest, it becomes the continuation of his work on account of her always rising to the occasion. There are more changes of a similar nature in this chapter, all tending to the building up of de Salzmann. One of these is quite remarkable. Speaking of how important it was that Gurdjieff should have met de Salzmann, Tchechovitch has: Mais, Monsieur Gurdjieff n’étant pas à la mesure ordinaire, cette rencontre DEVAIT avoir lieu. Et, à l’égard de Madame Jeanne de Salzmann, nous devons tous éprouver les sentiments dont l’ensemble exprime dans ce mot: RECONNAISSANCE.46 But Mr. Gurdjieff not being by any ordinary measure, this meeting HAD TO HAVE taken place. With regard to Mme. Jeanne de Salzmann, we must all experience the feelings, the totality of which is expressed in this word: GRATITUDE. [The author’s translation. The final word here is literally “recognition,” but it connotes “gratitude,” a meaning that is well attested in the dictionaries.]

The English translation has this: It is thanks to her, and to those around her, that I have been able to appreciate the profundity of the oral teaching he left. It is also thanks to her that the teaching has remained alive and has spread gradually throughout the world.47

It is interesting that in addition to praising her global triumph, the “improved” translation adds a pointed reference to the “oral teaching”: The inference is that one cannot set oneself up in this tradition unless one has that oral teaching. Further notes of this tendency to laud de Salzmann are that (1) the English adds this dedication, which is not in the French: “I dedicate these recollections to Jeanne de Salzmann, who has carried on Gurdjieff’s work” and (2) completely omits Tchechovitch’s expressions of gratitude at the end of his “prologue” to four people, among whom de Salzmann did not figure. One might smile at the promotion of de Salzmann, but to refuse others the modest credit the author had believed they merited is tendentious, if not mean.48 This is all significant because it indicates that the Foundation group was concerned to establish de Salzmann’s authority and credentials beyond even Tchechovitch’s own high praise, and to tie the stated success of the contemporary Gurdjieff tradition to her efforts. This is effectively an admission of how controversial her role has been, and a sign that it was thought necessary to affirm her exclusive authority, which effectively concedes that her exclusive authority is questionable. The third issue is the “New Work,” her alteration of the tradition (especially her “revision” of Beelzebub, and her thinning down of Gurdjieff’s tradition, including her forbidding anyone to use Gurdjieff’s exercises).49 Andrew Rawlinson writes: Those who knew Mme. de Salzmann well are agreed that she could deliver a formidable voltage. Its application, however, took a surprising turn in the last decade of her life, when, at the age of 90, she seems to have abandoned the strict orthodoxy of the previous 30 years. Senior pupils were convened in supplementary meetings or “sittings,” during which they sat in attentive silence with closed eyes, cultivating the sensation of a fine energy or “love from above” entering the subtle body through an aperture in the crown of the head, flowing down the spine and rising up again to leave at a point between the eyebrows. This practice is in striking contrast to Gurdjieff’s insistence on effort: a principle so crucial that it goes way beyond the confines of “personal” effort and takes on the nature of a cosmological principle. At the same time, Mme. de Salzmann was responsible for another departure from orthodoxy: Beelzebub’s Tales, which Gurdjieff had worked on for nearly 25 years and which he had expressly told Mme. de Salzmann to publish, was revised to make it “smoother . . . lighter . . . more approachable.”50 So we are faced with the possibility that Mme. de Salzmann, the truest of Gurdjieff’s disciples, and the one he manifestly most relied on, ended up by subverting two central elements in her master’s teaching: the necessity of effort and the deliberate “difficulty” and demandingness of Beelzebub’s Tales. Needless to say, “ultra-orthodox” back-to-Gurdjieff groups have already formed in reaction to Mme. de Salzmann’s innovations since her death in 1990. . . . Slowly, the main body of the Work is splitting up like a vast log jam, which, having left the confines of a river, floats out to sea and loses its cohesion.51

So far as I am aware, de Salzmann never acknowledged let alone addressed the issue, but reflecting on certain aspects of his time with de Salzmann, Ravindra, an apologist for her, wrote in diary notes that are dated to April–May 1983: I often feel that Madame de Salzmann is saying something new, other than what Gurdjieff brought, although there is a discernible continuity of the teaching. It seems that the emphasis now is not so much on “effort” as on “being available” to the higher energy entering at the top of the head. Perhaps now some people in the Work are ready for that. Also, it seems that she has been emphasizing the new aspect only in the last four or five years. . . . On the one hand, one constantly hears in the Work—especially in the writings and talks of Ouspensky and Gurdjieff—about will, effort, conscious labor, intentional undertaking and the like. On the other hand, Madame de Salzmann in particular is emphasizing being available, letting go.52

This passage summarizes the line of teaching that has become known as the “New Work.” According to Dushka Howarth, the type of “sitting” referred to by Ravindra finds its origins in de Salzmann’s visit to Japan with William Segal, whom Howarth describes as a “Zen enthusiast.”53 James Moore, who was present in the London group at the time, dates the change from the original Gurdjieff dispensation to the “New Work,” at least for London, to the very moment of the death of Henriette Lannes, his teacher, in 1980. He states: Fronting the new doctrine was an oligarchy-led modulation of idiom from active to passive voice: the pupil no longer “remembered himself” but “was remembered”; no longer “awoke” but “was awoken.” Pupils did not, need not, could not, work: they were “worked upon” (even while they literally slept!).54

Moore makes a vague reference to the replacement of the Preparation and Gurdjieff exercises with “sittings” of Asian inspiration,55 naming Krishnamurti, Roshi Kobori, and Dürckheim as influences.56 Wellbeloved, who was also present in the London group at the time, writes: “The teaching introduced by de Salzmann in Paris in the late 1960s or early 1970s . . . emphasized the notion of reception, of ‘being worked on,’ ‘being remembered’.”57 Under the heading “New Work Terminology,” she writes: The exercise of the attention, which used to be referred to in English as “morning preparation,” has been changed in process and aim, and is now referred to as “meditation” or “sitting” (terms probably taken from the Zen practice of zazen). Sitting is also used to refer to groups of pupils meditating together; in London this began in the 1960s and was known as “special work.” . . . This receptive mode may have been part of Gurdjieff’s late teaching in the 1940s, though there is no sign of it in the group meetings held during World War II. Receptivity is not referred to in beneficial terms in Gurdjieff’s writings, nor his pupils’ memoirs, all of which emphasize the necessity for struggle and effort.58

Moore records that Lannes had never accepted the “special work.”59 When, after her death, the new sittings were introduced into the London group, it was on the basis that they were for advanced pupils, but that later on all pupils were taught them to the exclusion of the original Preparation and Gurdjieff exercises.60 Amit’s recollection of a visit by de Salzmann to Israel is that she had thought he was studying the ideas and working alone, yet he was admitted to the exercise.61 While de Salzmann did not openly repudiate Gurdjieff’s ideas, there can be no doubt that a change was made, and that this represented a departure. Further, the new “receptive” practices did not merely supplement but replaced Gurdjieff’s own techniques. Attempts to deny the introduction of the New Work are futile: William Segal (1904–2000), a personal pupil of Ouspensky and Gurdjieff stated—his very word is that he confessed—to having been instrumental in the introduction of the New Work “sitting”: I must confess that I was a great proponent of meditation, which I felt was lacking in the Gurdjieff Work in the 1940s. I was in Japan in 1952. . . . I felt that the practice of formal sitting of Zazen was lacking in the Gurdjieff Work at the time. Then Madame de Salzmann did institute it. She probably had that practice going in its own way, but I felt it needed a more formal adherence. We needed more “sittings.” Trying to speak from the moment, as we do in our practice and in the groups, leads one to the same place.62

The practice of “trying to speak from the moment” is one of the New Work practices, but it is not from Gurdjieff. The exercises presented in the next five chapters are, however, from him, although the evidence for the Color Spectrum and Clear Impressions Exercises is indirect.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49.

50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62.

Taylor (2008) 67. Webb (1980) 433–437 and Moore (1991) 237. De Salzmann (2010) xvi and xviii. De Salzmann (2010) xviii. De Salzmann (2010) xvii. De Salzmann (2010) xvii. De Salzmann (2010) 23. De Salzmann (2010) 26. De Salzmann (2010) 34. De Salzmann (2010) 49. De Salzmann (2010) 50. See also 196 for comments of a similar nature. De Salzmann (2010) 82. De Salzmann (2010) 143. De Salzmann (2010) 85. De Salzmann (2010) 85. De Salzmann (2010) 86. De Salzmann (2010) 23. De Salzmann (2010) 150. These thoughts are part of a rather standard exercise involving awareness of sensation, feeling, breath and “I am.” De Salzmann (2010) 218. De Salzmann (2010) 72. De Salzmann (2010) 73. De Salzmann (2010) 236 provides an important example of the genre. Ravindra (1999) 23. De Salzmann (2010) 188, and also 189: “a state in which my centers try to be attuned in order to know this being, the being that I am.” De Salzmann (2010) 189. She makes more comments about the “waves” of thought that Gurdjieff had referred to in connection with this exercise, at 248. De Salzmann (2010) 196–197. De Salzmann (2010) 198–199. Nicoll (1997) 14. De Salzmann (2010) 237. Gurdjieff (2017) 40. De Salzmann (2010) 237. Schaeffer, a noted musicologist and author, was a personal pupil of Gurdjieff: Schaeffer (1964). Gurdjieff (2009) 177–179. Gurdjieff (2009) 179–180. Schaeffer (1964) 10. Gurdjieff (2009) 181. White (1996) 254. See for example, the elaborate development of the naḍīs found in White (1996) 252–254 and also 226–228. Trompf (2010) 1–2, and footnote 1, p. 2. Ouspensky (1949) 45. Gurdjieff (2009) 113. Taylor (2007) 197. Moore (1994) passim. Pauline de Dampierre, who had been a personal pupil of Gurdjieff, and was one of de Salzmann’s chief lieutenants in the post-Gurdjieff years, told someone, who reported it to me: “Madame de Salzmann introduced a more feminine influence into the Work.” Tchechovitch (2003) 214. Tchekhovitch (2006) 246. Tchechovitch (2003) 215. Tchekhovitch (2006) 246. I have been told in confidence that the published French text is the only one, there are no alternative drafts, and the changes were made at the insistence of Michel de Salzmann. Oral communications to the author from members of Foundation groups. The late Solange Claustres expressed to me very mixed feelings about de Salzmann: Sometimes she brought exactly what Gurdjieff had, and sometimes she changed or even reprobated it. We chiefly discussed the Preparation and the exercises. Claustres said of de Salzmann and those who had collaborated with her that while they had acted from the best of motives, “what they did was negative, although they were not negative in themselves,” or words to that effect. This is a quote from a book review: references are found in situ. Rawlinson (1997) 312–313. Ravindra (1999) 128–129. The dating is found at p. 130. Howarth (1998) 4. The relevant portions of the book were written by Dushka Howarth. Moore (1994) 4. Moore (1994) 5. Moore (2005) 242. Wellbeloved (2003) 154. Wellbeloved (2003) 156. Moore (2005) 242. Oral communication from Wellbeloved. Amit (2009) 157–159. Segal (2003) 196–197.

13 The Four Ideals Exercise

13.1 Introduction There is direct evidence that George and Helen Adie (1901–1989 and 1909–1996 respectively) learned exercises directly from Gurdjieff: George Adie said that they did, and some exercises are mentioned in the jottings he made when he calculated how often he had been with Gurdjieff, together with some miscellaneous details. When I published the Four Ideals Exercise I also published these notes, which relevantly read1:

From 7 June, there are no further references to exercises on these sheets. It could be that from that point they were in the notes he refers to. This page was probably written on or shortly after September 1, 1949, as it is dated then, and has no reference to anything after that, although Adie did visit Gurdjieff after that time. Adie stated in groups that Helen and he had traveled to Paris not long before Gurdjieff died. Gurdjieff had been so ill that he had had to lie on something, I think a couch. He had called them over to him, and said to them in a low voice: “Angel help you. Devil help you.”3 Also, Gurdjieff had taught them another exercise: the last exercise. On an occasion that must have been after September 1, 1948, but before the final meeting, Gurdjieff had transmitted it to Helen and she had been charged to pass it on to George by telephone. I return to that in Chapter 18. From this chapter through Chapter 18, I am bound to speak about my conversations and engagements with George and Helen Adie. The tone of the writing cannot therefore be as it has been, for so far I have been drawing almost entirely from published sources. A tone of witness and even of assertion must therefore enter. Perhaps the most important of the matters within my personal knowledge is that when I first visited Adie in 1981, he told me that all of the techniques and methods he used came from Gurdjieff. At one of our very first meetings, he said that there were some places where people called their groups Gurdjieff groups but had mixed Gurdjieff’s methods with others, and now people were becoming confused, thinking that foreign, even inimical techniques were from Gurdjieff. He did not, he stated, do that. He insisted,

rather, on the necessity to use “pure” Gurdjieff methods and to keep them unmixed. Adie was keenly aware that Gurdjieff’s authentic methods were being displaced by others and, what is worse, mixed. If a practice is simply replaced by another, it can be restored. But if has been adulterated in the memory of those who are passing it on, it is effectively lost, and Adie saw himself as being responsible for continuing a pure current in Australia. Adie (a distinguished architect) and his wife Helen (a worldrenowned pianist, one-time muse to John Ireland, and a very successful composer) ran their own Gurdjieff group in Sydney, as I have elsewhere written.4 Finally, since they are recorded on these notes, it is clear that Gurdjieff had something to do with the giving of pills, injections, and what was probably testosterone (I do not know whether the testosterone was administered by injection or not). The references to pounds sterling are probably to payments made to Gurdjieff.

13.2 The Four Ideals Exercise On October 1, 1948, Gurdjieff taught George Adie the Four Ideals Exercise, a “subjective exercise” (see Section 0.3). Adie worked with this exercise for five months, until some point in March 1949. In this exercise the exercitant attempts to make contact with four “ideals” (Christ, Buddha, Muhammad, and Lama) and introduce into the exercitant’s own body the “higher substances” that are produced when worshippers pray or address themselves to those “ideals,” concepts I deal with later in the chapter. Available for understanding this exercise are Adie’s written notes of the exercise; a diagram Adie made, almost certainly under Gurdjieff’s instructions in 1948 (annexures 3 and 4 of my 2013 article); and a short reference by John G. Bennett. The exercise comes with an introduction, as did the exercises in Life Is Real. The exercise reads (incorporating the Adies’ corrections and editing, and making insignificant changes to layout and punctuation):

On earth all people have an ideal which they situate far off in space, high above themselves. Towards this ideal they send their emanations. They pray to it, they stretch towards it, their emanations mount towards it. Their emanations do not all have the same force. Some of them can hardly rise at all, others go further, further even than the atmosphere of the earth, yet others mount almost to the very ideal. The emanations on leaving the earth are dispersed, then they mount, further on they collect together to form at a certain level above the atmosphere of the earth a sort of reservoir or foyer of substances. We represent to ourselves that this foyer of substances is situated midway between the earth and the point of concentration which represents the ideal of the believers. The ideal himself is too far for an unprepared man to be able to enter into contact with him, but the man can, if he tries with determination enter into contact with this foyer of substances formed from the concentration of the vibrations sent by the believers towards their ideal and the man can assimilate these substances and accumulate them in himself. He can do it by establishing through the concentration of his will a connection in the form of a line or thread between this foyer and some part or other of his own body. The exercise is given to achieve this aim. We choose four ideals: Muhammad, Christ, Buddha, Lama. We represent that their essence exists somewhere in space, in a place situated above the country where they lived: Muhammad Christ Buddha Lama

above Mecca and Medina above Jerusalem above India above Tibet

In representing to ourselves each of these ideals, the thought goes immediately in the direction in space where the ideal is situated. The exercise consists in establishing a contact between one of the limbs of the body and the foyer of substances formed by the vibrations of the faithful in the direction of the ideal. For this, each of the four limbs of the body represents one of the four ideals. The right arm represents Muhammad, the left arm Christ, the right leg Buddha, the left leg Lama. First, establish a contact between the right arm and that part of space in which Muhammad is situated, where are concentrated the vibrations sent by the faithful towards Muhammad. One must suck, attract to oneself; by means of a thread which serves to connect us; the substance concentrated at that place, and with this substance fill the right arm. Second do the same thing by means of a contact between Buddha and the right leg. Third the same between Christ and the left arm. Fourth the same between Lama and the left leg. At this stage the four limbs are like accumulators fully charged. Now follows the second part of the exercise: Breathe in air consciously while drawing into yourself the substances accumulated in the limbs so that it can flow to meet the air which you are breathing in. It mixes with the air by itself, at the level of the breast. Then pour it into the sex organs. I AM, in two parts. With “I” feel the sex organs, with “AM” fill up the seven parts of the body one after the other.

Then “I AM” several times. “I” am conscious of the whole of the body with a feeling centred in the solar plexus. “AM” again am conscious of the whole of the body, with a sensation centred in the vertebral column. After that, rest ten or fifteen minutes in a collected state, that is to say, do not allow thought or feeling or organic instinct to pass outside the limit of the atmosphere of the body. Rest contained so that your nature can assimilate in calmness the results deposited in you, which otherwise would be lost in vain.

At the time of publication, I referred to the fact that I had seen notes of it in French, but did not know where they were. Shortly afterwards, Kenneth Adie, Adie’s youngest son, gave me some documents of his father’s that included that text. It is clearly in Adie’s handwriting. I cannot find anything on it to indicate whether it was translated from or into English, or when the notes were made. It seems to me to that there is no significant difference between the two texts.

13.3 Commentary on the Four Ideals Exercise There are five essential theoretical elements to this exercise:

1. “Higher substances” form certain “reservoirs” above the earth. 2. These “higher substances” come from emanations and vibrations that arise when people pray to the “Ideal” who lived on the spot of the earth immediately below. 3. An exercitant can attract and ingest these materials by means of a connection. 4. The connection between the exercitant and the accumulations is made through the medium of a temporary thread formed by concentration. 5. Implicitly, it is an advantage for an exercitant to be able to ingest these substances.

I suggest that there are three secondary theoretical elements: 6. The “ideal” “himself” actually exists. 7. It is not enough to ingest the higher substances. If they are not calmly digested, the results of the exercise will be squandered. 8. The exercitant has an “atmosphere” around his or her body.

The idea of there being substances high off in space, almost like some hovering cloud, formed by the emanations of believers, is nothing if not unusual. But even this is not so original as the notion that the substances are available as a resource to us if we can enter into contact with them. There is nothing to like effect in Beelzebub, and Gurdjieff has not previously mentioned “reservoirs of substances,” let alone an ideal that is himself too far for us to reach. Neither am I aware of any suggestion that Jesus, Buddha, Muhammad, and Lama do in fact subsist somewhere in space. The unknown ideal here is “Lama.” In Gurdjieff: Making a New World, Bennett wrote that Gurdjieff certainly had a deep respect for Lamaism. In Beelzebub’s Tales, he asserts that a group of seven lamas possessed both knowledge and spiritual powers unparalleled elsewhere on earth, and that the accidental death of the chief of the group had destroyed one of the hopes of mankind. A further point is that in one of his most remarkable spiritual exercises Gurdjieff placed “Lama” on the same footing as Muhammad, Buddha and Christ, and asserted that there was a special concentration of spiritual power in a certain place between Tibet and Afghanistan.5

It is most significant that Gurdjieff ends this exercise with the advice to remain in a collected state for up to fifteen minutes “so that your nature can assimilate in calmness the results deposited in you, which otherwise would be lost in vain.” This shows that Gurdjieff has come so far as to now be saying that it is necessary for his pupils to remain secluded in the collected state. That is, contemplation without distraction is now taught to be essential if the results of the efforts are not to be lost in the stream of life. Further, when he says not to allow thought or feeling “to pass outside the limit of the atmosphere of the body,” he probably means not to think of or allow any feelings respecting what is outside that atmosphere. But the reference to “organic instinct” is not so clear. I suggest that it means not to allow one’s body to itch to get up and move. This formed a feature of one of Adie’s most important lectures.6

13.4 Development of the Exercise This exercise provides a clear and remarkably well-documented case of Gurdjieff’s development of a doctrine with some practical application. It is the most fully realized of all the Gurdjieff exercises known to me, exceeding even those in Life Is Real for completion and attention to detail. It shows that Gurdjieff kept developing and refining his art of Transformed-contemplation. We have seen that Benson was taught the basic principles of the exercise while he was a student at the Prieuré (see Section 4.6). However, as Adie had it and as it was given in the United States, the exercise could be done anywhere: Benson, on the other hand, was told to go to a church. According to the transcript of a Paris meeting on December 7, 1941, someone asked Gurdjieff how he should pray. Gurdjieff replied, inter alia, that certain substances emanate from the sun and planets. These emanations, he said, make contact at certain points in our solar system, and can reflect in materialized images that are themselves images of the All Highest. There are always, he averred, materialized images in the atmosphere, and if only we could sufficiently concentrate, we could enter into contact with the image and receive the substances. There is a significant difference between this and the Four Ideals Exercise, for in 1941 Gurdjieff was referring to emanations from the bodies of the solar system. The Four Ideals Exercise, on the other hand, refers to emanations sourced from the faithful. However, what was said in this December 7, 1941, meeting is of interest in that it suggests a basis, in Gurdjieff’s thought, for asserting the objective reality of “ideals” that exist somewhere above the surface of the earth. Gurdjieff advised his students to have an ideal: For example, in the January 16, 1944, meeting he stated that if one does not have an ideal, if one does not believe in God, then one’s parent or teacher can serve as an ideal. On December 9, 1946, Gurdjieff advised that when finishing an exercise one could make a prayer to one’s ideal to help guard what one has received or attracted until the next exercise. It is possible that Gurdjieff’s theory can be accommodated within the framework of traditional Christianity (e.g., the receipt of the “higher substances” may correspond to the receipt of divine grace, as de Salzmann suggested).7 However, the significant point is that as the exercises are aimed at conscious development, they will—or should—make possible a connection between higher and lower centers, and thus for the states that are experienced as “mystical” to become “natural” for the exercitant. This is further reason to see Gurdjieff’s system as fundamentally mystical. As we saw in Section 8.1, in his exercises Gurdjieff made use of imagination, but it is an intentional and controlled imagination. That is, the exercitant is to consciously form the image, whereas in sleep images are automatically formed by association and invade one’s psyche. The Four Ideals Exercise is a major instance of where Gurdjieff recommended the use of intentional

image forming. Another example, which takes us into the area of magic, is found in Hulme’s Undiscovered Country. Reporting meetings with Gurdjieff in 1949, Hulme speaks of Gurdjieff’s references to “conjury” as being something that one does for one’s own benefit, and that has that effect not because it is magic but because one does it oneself. However, the exercise Gurdjieff gave her later that year when her mother had started to suffer from dementia was intended to work for the benefit of her mother as well. Hulme states: He went to his trunk, took from it a postcard-sized photograph of a strong-faced old lady in a black head shawl and cape . . . “My mother,” he said. He then gave me an exercise, totally different from any previous instruction yet including steps from many of the earlier “spiritual” disciplines. I must always be alone in a room when I performed it, alone with two empty chairs before me, on which I was to see “with inner eye” his mother and my mother sitting side by side. Step by step, he went through the instruction which, I gathered, might enable me to draw into myself a force to send to them—a kind of “help” for his mother and mine. Then he called Madame S., his oldest and most trusted Russian assistant, told her to go over it once again, step by step with me, and abruptly left the room. It was the last exercise he was ever to give to me.8

The parallel to the Four Ideals Exercise consists in the fact that Hulme would draw into herself “a force.” But then, this exercise goes beyond the Four Ideals Exercise in that she would send this force on to both her mother and Gurdjieff’s. At this point, we are looking at something most scholars would probably consider to be magic or at least akin to it: The hardest question is probably one of definition. An almost identical exercise, involving the photograph of his mother, was apparently given to Bennett, although Bennett did not pass on the details.9 Further, in the posthumously published Sacred Influences, edited from miscellaneous materials by A. G. E. Blake, is the transcript of a talk given by Bennett on May 14, 1974, titled “Sacred Images.” There, Bennett, speaking of Thérèse of Lisieux’s (1873–1897) intense faith, love, and conviction of her relationship with Jesus, said: Gurdjieff explains this to some extent in Beelzebub’s Tales, but he did it in much more detail when he was introducing an exercise that he called “conscious stealing,” which involved sacred images. He said that from time to time from another world —“from Above”—a Sacred Individual is incarnated in human form with a very high and special mission, the working out of which is not visible in this world and which can only be perceived by the disciples or companions who are specially prepared. . . . We see that sacred image as the founder of a religion, as a prophet or as an incarnation of God.10

Once more, it is striking that Gurdjieff is teaching that these Sacred Individuals really exist, and can even be understood as incarnations of God. Dr. John Lester (1919–1999), a personal pupil of Gurdjieff and Jane Heap, also advised me, sometime between 1996 and 1998, that he had never heard of the Four Ideals Exercise, but that it resembled the Conscious Stealing Exercise that Bennett had taught, presumably having learned it from Gurdjieff. Bennett did not teach it to Lester, but he had learned it from pupils of Bennett’s. According to Dr. Lester, the exercise involved picturing to oneself four places of pilgrimage where the pilgrims’ prayers produce higher substances that accumulate over these sites (Jerusalem, Mecca, Benares on the Ganges, and the Potala). The exercitant then ingests those substances by fabricating a connection between the exercitant’s own body and the gathered substances, as in the Four Ideals Exercise. The Conscious Stealing Exercise is the closest parallel to the Four Ideals Exercise known to me. Dr. Lester added that whereas the Four Ideals Exercise employs constructive imagination to provide threads to each limb, the Conscious Stealing Exercise uses one thread only. Major differences between the two exercises include the Four Ideals Exercise’s relatively lengthy explanations at the beginning (concerning the theoretical foundation of the exercise) and at the end (concerning the proper digestion and assimilation of the substances sucked into the body). Some more recently published material indirectly bears on the Four Ideals Exercise. The first of these is found in The Reality of Being. De Salzmann writes: Each person has an ideal, an aspiration for something higher. It takes one form or another, but what matters is the call to this ideal, the call of his being. Listening to the call is the state of prayer. While in this state, a man produces an energy, a special emanation, which religious feeling alone can bring. These emanations concentrate in the atmosphere just above the place where they are produced. The air everywhere contains them. The question is how to enter into contact with these emanations. By our call we can create a connection, like a telegraph wire, which links us, and take in this material in order to let it accumulate and crystallize in us. We then have the possibility to manifest its quality and help others understand—that is, to give it back. True prayer is establishing this contact and being nourished by it, nourished by this special material, which is called Grace. As an exercise for this, we breathe in air, thinking of Christ or Buddha or Mohammed, and keep the active elements that have been accumulated.11

This lacks the significant instructions about the blending of the substances received in the breast with the incoming air, the “pouring” into the sex organs, then filling the body, and the period of calm that is needed to assimilate and retain the results of the exercise. Other material in the book expresses similar ideas: When I turn the attention of my thought to enter into contact with my body, my mind opens. The cells that vibrate are not the same as those engaged in my usual thinking. It is a part of the mind that can have a relation with a more subtle, pure energy. This is the energy of a higher level, which, Gurdjieff explained, is constituted by the real thought, the prayer, of certain beings. In order to have a connection with this level, I need a conduit, like a wire that reaches as high as my thinking allows. I can then take in, or rather suck in, the energy and let it pass through the connection.12

The overlap between de Salzmann’s statements, taken together, and the Four Ideals Exercise is substantial. De Salzmann’s accounts contain each of the essential five elements identified above: concept 1 (that higher substances form reservoirs above the earth), concepts 3 and 4 (that the exercitant can

absorb them by means of a connection), and, even more explicitly than Adie, concept 5 (that it is desirable to ingest these substances). In respect of concept 2 (that the substances are the products of prayer), de Salzmann states that while in a state of prayer, and only while experiencing a “religious feeling,” extraordinary emanations are produced and gather above the prayer site. Some higher substances, she asserts, are made by the “real thought” of “certain beings.” Gurdjieff also gave a much shorter version of this exercise, limited to Christ, during the Christmas season of 1948, while he was in New York. Louise March (see Section 4.7) states: After the dinner, around midnight, Gurdjieff gives advice. “I wish give real Christmas present. Imagine Christ. Somewhere in space is.” Mr Gurdjieff forms an oval with both his hands. “Make contact, but to outside, periphery. Draw from there, draw in, I. Settle in you, Am. Do every day. Wish to become Christ. Become. Be.”13

This account emphatically affirms element 6 above, that the Ideal itself actually does exist, thus confirming that Gurdjieff was serious in asserting the existence of a series of sacred persons and a reservoir of higher substances formed from prayer, in space, together with the possibility that a “prepared” person can enter into contact with the Ideal. However, it goes much further, for it suggests that one can become the same as Christ, if it is not actually saying that one becomes Christ. It is intriguing that March specifically recalls that Gurdjieff formed an oval with both his hands, while Adie’s diagram also depicts an oval, although Adie wrote nothing of this in his text. If it is not purely coincidental, this feature almost prompts one to speculate whether that Gurdjieff believed the oval shape to be objective. Frank R. Sinclair (co-president of the Gurdjieff Foundation of New York from April 2000, president from 2005, and now president emeritus), who studied with many of Gurdjieff’s pupils, especially Jeanne de Salzmann, Lord Pentland, and Martin Benson (d. 1971), refers to the edited memoirs of Beatrice Rego, his wife, who was utterly faithful to Gurdjieff and his teaching. There she states of Gurdjieff’s 1948 visit to the United States: At another time, at the end of movements, Gurdjieff said to the class, “At this time [around Christmas], many people pray. Their prayers go only so far up in the atmosphere. You can suck these into yourself; this force.”14

Sinclair also passes on a similar recollection from Martin Benson, and after referring to March’s recollection, concludes: [I]t would appear that Gurdjieff counselled his listeners to turn towards a point “somewhere in space”—someone even said he had referred to a planet, but clearly then, “above the head,” even perhaps “a higher part of the mind”—and consciously draw in a fine energy.15

Sinclair goes on to say that in that session, Gurdjieff claimed to speak “as a Christ” and told people “to undertake this exercise because only through it would they ‘understand reason to live’.”16 In his later work, Of the Life Aligned, Sinclair again referred to this incident, recalling that while Gurdjieff did “urge people to ‘steal’ the energies that people were pouring towards Jesus Christ on that day[,] Gurdjieff nevertheless referred to his exercise as ‘honest’ stealing because, he said, the debt would have to be repaid ‘with something else’.”17 He added these informative notes: [T]hose privileged to have listened to the tape could hear Gurdjieff say very clearly that one should actively “suck in” some of the “active element” being directed to where Christ was imagined to be—“somewhere in space”—and that from this element one could build one’s astral body. “With this active element you will grow your being.” What’s more, he declared that nothing could be more useful for one’s future than this exercise. I should add that giving such an exercise was perhaps just a little odd for a man who had warned his students not to tamper with the breath, not that “sucking in” is tampering, but it does have an effect on the breathing. But then Gurdjieff defied all norms, including his own.18

But the most significant aspect of the exercise as given to Adie is that Gurdjieff affirmed that it is necessary to rest secluded in the collected state for ten to fifteen minutes so that the results of one’s efforts do not evaporate. This supports the comment in Herald and Beelzebub about the critical role played by Transformed-contemplation in the formation of the soul (see Section 4.2), but whereas that remark does not make explicit that it is to be done seated and without distractions, that detail is now either added or articulated, depending on Gurdjieff’s initial intention.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18.

Azize (2013). The symbol Adie drew is similar to a circle with two vertical lines within it, crossing from top to bottom. I do not understand its meaning. As we saw in Section 1.7, Gurdjieff would sometimes add to this formula “between the two may God keep you.” Adie and Azize (2015), where all references to their careers are also gathered. See the very many references to “Helen Perkin” in The John Ireland Companion, Foreman (2011). Bennett (1973) 96. Adie and Azize (2015) 319–323. De Salzmann (2010) 198–199. Hulme (1997) 223. Bennett (1962) 201. Bennett (1989) 42–43. De Salzmann (2010) 198–199. De Salzmann (2010) 196. March (2012) 107. Sinclair (2005) 125. Sinclair (2005) 230–231. Sinclair (2005) 230–232. Sinclair (2009) 48. Sinclair (2009) 49.

14 The “Lord Have Mercy” Exercises

14.1 Introduction The prayer “Lord have mercy” might, on one plausible reading, be entirely out of place in Gurdjieff’s teaching. In his teaching on prayer Gurdjieff attributed the power of prayer not to any deity who would respond, but to the effect of the prayer on the supplicant (see Section 1.7). Prayer is, on this view, effectively a form of “active reasoning” (see Section 11.1). Further, given his comments on the inaccessibility of God, it might be thought inconsistent that Gurdjieff should teach pupils to make a prayer that was, in its precise terms, something of a nonsense. Yet, it is not controversial to suggest that Gurdjieff was neither always consistent nor always so absolute. As we saw in Section 8.1, he felt he had to justify the use of imagination in his exercises when he was otherwise warning against that faculty, and even his Transformed-contemplation itself existed in a sort of tension with the balance of his system, which was to be more aware in the social domain (what he called “life”). I shall contend in Section 18.4 that this tendency to inconsistency is due to a tension inherent in his very program: the presentation of a mystical system in a secular guise. In the 1950 edition of Beelzebub, but not the 1931 one, Gurdjieff effectively endorsed this prayer, saying that before people’s psyches had deteriorated to their present low pitch, they were aware of the “three holy forces of the Sacred-Triamazikamno”: “God the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.” 1 He went on to say that they would sometimes express: the hidden meaning . . . and also their longing to have a beneficent effect on them by the following prayers: Sources of Divine rejoicings, revolts and sufferings, direct your actions upon us. or Holy-Affirming, Holy-Denying, Holy-Reconciling, transubstantiate in me for my Being. or Holy God, Holy Firm, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us.2

The last prayer is a celebrated portion of the Divine Liturgy of the Eastern Churches, Catholic and Orthodox alike, and even made its way into some Latin liturgies.3 Dix records: This hymn is said to have been divinely revealed . . . at Constantinople in the time of the patriarch S. Proclus (A.D. 434–446) as the authentic text of the hymn sung by the angels in heaven. . . . we have the contemporary testimony of Proclus’ banished predecessor . . . Nestorius, that it was inserted into the liturgy at Constantinople between A.D. 430 and 450.4

On May 27, 1943, in an answer to “L,” who complained of “the sensation of . . . inner emptiness,” Gurdjieff said: You must relax. Relax especially the part that is tense, and everything around it. You are not in contact. Say, “Lord, have mercy.” Pray with these words. Your wife must give you a reminder by saying for you, “Lord, have mercy,” when she comes into the room or when you leave it. . . . You have a God? l: Yes. gurdjieff: And you have a prayer? l: Yes. Gurdjieff: Then say: “I am, I wish to be, I have the sensation of myself. I do not emanate.” And then say your prayer. And at the end, say again, “I am.”5

The next week, on June 3, 1943, “L” said that he did not know what to picture when he says “Lord.” Gurdjieff replied: “Picture to yourself better minds, non-commissioned officers, because there are many ranks. Say, ‘have mercy,’ with conviction.”6 Four matters emerge from these two exchanges: Gurdjieff’s reference (1) to God and (2) to prayer (and his acceptance that his pupil had a god and a prayer); (3) the linkage of the evocations “Lord have mercy” and “I am”; and (4) the melding of this evocation with Gurdjieff’s ideas of being, relaxation, sensation, and restraining emanations (see Section 11.6). The prayer “Lord Have Mercy” had meaning for Gurdjieff, and by 1943 his teaching was taking a more religious turn just at the time when he was using contemplative exercises. Further, he used these words in some of his movements.7

14.2 “Lord Have Mercy” in The Reality of Being De Salzmann says a significant amount about this prayer and how to relate it to Gurdjieff’s ideas. In The Reality of Being, de Salzmann seems to make the prayer central to the desire to attain being, for she relates human possibilities to the being of God:

Everything that exists is constituted of three forces. They can be represented as the Father, the active force; the Son, the passive force; and the Holy Spirit, the neutralizing force. The Father creates the Son. The Son returns to the Father. The force that descends is the one that wishes to return, to go back up. In man it is the mind that is opposed to the body. The neutralizing force is the wish that unites them, connects them. Everything comes from the wish, the will. To represent God, it is necessary to represent these three forces. Where the three forces are reunited, God is. Where our attention is, God is. When two forces are opposed and a third unites them, God is here. We can say, “Lord have mercy on me.” We can ask for help, to come to this in ourselves. The only help is this. Our aim is this, to contain, to unite these three forces in us . . . to Be.8 I have access to myself only through sensation. But there are different kinds of sensation. . . . I need to open and receive the impression of a finer vibration. For this a new feeling needs to appear that allows the vibration to spread. This is why Gurdjieff had us say, “Lord, have mercy,” which opens us to a feeling of our nothingness and awakens a deeper energy.9

This conception of God is consistent with Christianity, among other faiths (although the idea of the Father creating the Son would be controversial). De Salzmann explains the prayer’s use in the exercise not only as a way of touching the feeling, but also as expressing something of the action of the Law of Three in one’s internal work, and this tallies with Gurdjieff’s three versions of the prayer in Beelzebub. However, I am not certain that Gurdjieff used it to help in “acknowledging one’s nothingness.” From the meetings of May 27 and June 3, 1943, it seems more likely that he used it to provide a sense of presence and relation to higher cosmic forces. In Section 8.3, another passage from The Reality of Being was set out wherein de Salzmann states that the affirmation “I am” can be replaced with “Lord . . . have mercy.”10 She also records an exercise from Gurdjieff that blends both affirmations: There is an exercise that Gurdjieff considered most important for opening to a different state of being. . . . This exercise begins with the consciousness that I am here. I say to myself, “Lord have mercy,” each time with a sensation in the four limbs, successively—right arm, right leg, left leg, left arm. I do this three times, and rest for one or two breaths. Then I breathe consciously, saying “I Am”: with “I,” I take in the active elements of the air and mix them with the result obtained in the four limbs, and with “Am,” I exhale and distribute this into the sexual region. I repeat this second step three times. I then recover the result from the sexual region and send it to the spine, exhaling with “Am.” I begin again the filling of the four limbs, remix with the active elements of the air, recharge the sexual region, recover from the sexual region and send it to fill the solar plexus. And I do the same to fill the head. Then I feel the whole Presence “I Am” throughout the body. I nourish this Presence by taking the active elements from inhaling and sending them into the legs and the abdomen, then in succession the chest, the right arm, the left arm and the head. I make an inner act of engagement, saying to myself, “I wish to be. I wish and I can be. I will do everything to make this last for a specific time. I will take all necessary measures to crystallize in myself this result for being. I will do everything to be.”11

This has some of the blending instructions found in the Four Ideals Exercise, including the directing of the exercitant’s attention to the sex organs as a sort of reservoir, and for the pouring of the results into other parts of the body. However, another passage from the same volume takes us even further into the realm of traditional spirituality: My deep wish is to submit entirely to an inner voice, the feeling of the divine, of the sacred in me. I know that a higher energy —what religions call God or Lord—is within me. It will appear if the mind and the body are truly related. God is here when two forces are opposed and a third unites them. We can ask for help in order to unite these forces in us. We can say, “Lord have mercy,” in order to Be.12

The meetings of 1943 and the exercise given to Adie later in the chapter show that Gurdjieff did in fact go in the direction indicated by de Salzmann. However, to assert that “God is here” whenever the Law of Three operates is bold, and does not sit easily with Gurdjieff’s teaching that God is distant (see Section 2.11). As we saw in Section 14.1, Gurdjieff redefined or redescribed “Lord” in terms of “noncommissioned officers,” intelligences higher than our own yet not at the level of God. One is reminded not only of the higher beings in the “Diagram of Everything Living” but also the angels, archangels, cherubim, and seraphim of Beelzebub, and even (Pseudo) Dionysius’s ranks of angels. He told Benson: “The angels are pure, and there is no place for them to go. We on this earth are fallen angels, but we have a place to strive for, objectively and actively to come to.”13 Gurdjieff does seem to have literally believed in the existence of a ladder of cosmic intelligences; this helps make sense of his “Lord Have Mercy” exercises.14

14.3 The “Lord Have Mercy” Exercises A “Lord Have Mercy” exercise was given by George Adie on February 20, 1980. The entire instruction took approximately twenty minutes. I present the transcript in numbered paragraphs. First, there was a prologue: 1. We have to move. It’s like the practice of the presence of God. 2. We have to move to the fact of the awareness of higher forces, the awareness of what is going on outside without leaving the place. 3. I am here with you, you’re with each other, everybody together. But there is also something else. 4. I don’t think about it, but still I am aware of it; it’s a possibility. And as I move toward that possibility, that expansion of consciousness, of course I begin to get all that I need. Let us take the exercise.

Adie then spent some time speaking about the proper physical posture to be taken for the exercise. The principles of the proper type of posture (there is no one correct posture, only correct principles) are dealt with in Chapter 17, for the same basic posture is taken for all these exercises.

5. That wants to be done very frequently, because all life is producing other tense postures. 6. Now the exercise, the sitting, the preparation. I need to understand how essential preparation is. Preparation is the determiner of the moment that follows, which determines the future. If there is any possibility, it cannot take place without preparation. If I am not conscious now, then I have much less chance of receiving any impulses later, or of noticing them. 7. I wish to prepare. 8. One of the main interferences, in fact one of the key interferences: the words in the head. The head is not related to the body, the head is separate, turning in dreams and imagination . . . and identification. Quite unaware of the body, even though I was putting it in posture. 9. So now I try and have an all-over sense in myself, an all-over sense of myself without any words. I want to free my head. Free it from words. Connect it to the body. 10. And now I keep part of the attention, not all of it, on this awareness, my total awareness, and my total freedom from words. I remain, and I place the other half of my attention on my right arm. And I sense my right arm: I sense it. I have no words, and I sense the arm. 11. I start maybe at the top, and go down to the bottom, but . . . if I have done a lot of sensing and exercise in the past, I find that the arm is there rather readily. What I need is a finer sensation, not just peripheral, I need a total sensation of the arm, the fineness, the life flowing in that arm. 12. And as I sense the arm, I have the concept, as if I said to myself: “Lord have mercy.” 13. Perhaps I must start innerly. It’s as if I innerly said: “Lord have mercy.” But you see, it’s still there. I don’t have to repeat, I don’t even have to repeat the thought of the words “Lord have mercy.” 14. They echo in me without repeating them. I sense my arm. In me is the echo: “Lord have mercy.” 15. Now with that sensation, which I don’t leave, I then pass to the right leg, and again: “Lord have mercy.” I experience, I sense the life force in that limb, and in the body . . . my central presence free from any words, and the right arm . . . and the right leg. 16. And now I sense the left leg. Again: “Lord have mercy.” Again it echoes there. 17. When I have established a really fine sensation in that leg, I pass to the left arm. Again: “Lord have mercy.” I. Central. Free from thought. All limbs with the force in them, sensed. And this wordless echo: “Lord have mercy.” I experience the influence of the words. 18. Now, in my own time, I repeat that series of four movements again. And then a third time, each time getting finer. 19. When I have finished that series, I have a total experience of myself. Total. The whole. The presence of the whole, the reality of my conscious being, and in me: “Lord have mercy.” 20. I remember that. I have no words, no thoughts.

After this, there followed about five minutes of silence. Adie then asked: 21. When I open my eyes, can I receive the impressions without words?

After another minute, he said: 22. Enough. 23. For this maximum withdrawal, for this maximum protection of this effort, one should close the eyes. Several people are inclined not to. 24. That preparation should rightfully take about fifteen minutes, about five or seven minutes to really have that experience, and then you remain quite free from words of any sort. 25. After that, you can’t leap from your chair. You then have a moment or two, at least, to put your mind on your intention for the day. You may have thought about it previously, and have it there. And then you go. You have to plunge into life after that. 26. There would be no virtue in this exercise, and you shouldn’t receive very much from it, unless it’s going to be aimed at a purpose. The whole is that I shall have the power to do, the power to discriminate, the power to act even, with intention. For this which we have been practicing is an act, an inner act. Now I wish to be able to have something related to that in my life. 27. And now, as we listen to the music, let us listen again, without words.

14.4 Commentary on the “Lord Have Mercy” Exercise As usual, there was a prologue or introduction to prepare the exercitants, so that they are “receptive,” as Martin Benson would have it (see Section 12.4). 1. When Adie says “We have to move,” he is alluding to a statement of Ouspensky’s that Adie often quoted: “We have to move from this dead spot.” His reference to the “practice of the presence of God” is drawn from the small book by Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, a seventeenth-century Carmelite monk. It is an appropriate note to strike before commencing this exercise and shows that Adie contextualized it within a religious tradition. 2. Like de Salzmann, Adie relates this exercise to “the awareness of higher forces.” 3. As this exercise is being given in a group, the fact of the interrelationship helps to provide mutual assistance, and, in Gurdjieff’s theory, to localize more higher hydrogens. 4 and 8. Adie’s comments are predicated on the belief that a consciousness behind thought can be experienced. 9. It is understood that all of Gurdjieff’s contemplative exercises commence with relaxation and sensation of the body. 10. The attention must be divided. This is of the essence for self- remembering.15 12–14. Adie does not insist on saying the prayer, whether aloud or inside. For him, it was enough that “I have the concept, as if I said to myself: ‘Lord have mercy’.” An “echo” is preferable to getting lost in the words. 15. The sensation of the limbs is cumulative. 18. As with de Salzmann’s version, the exercise is said thrice, but Adie states that it should “each time [be] getting finer.” That is, the attention has to be concentrated more and more as the exercise proceeds. 24 and 25. Adie instructs the exercitants to remain in that state for five to seven minutes, collecting themselves before making a plan for the day, but then plunging into life. This is not quite the ten to fifteen minutes afterwards enjoined in the Four Ideals Exercise, but Adie adds the necessity of making decisions about the exercitant’s internal work during the day, and that could easily take up to ten minutes or more. This daily plan is returned to in Chapter 17. 26. The aim of the exercise is paramount: It has been mentioned at the start and again at the end. 27. As with the Preparation when given to a group, Helen Adie would play some of Gurdjieff’s music before the meeting proceeded further. This provided the exercitants with conditions more open than the purely secluded.

14.5 Helen Adie’s Version This transcript is taken directly from a handwritten draft of Helen Adie’s. It is a not unimportant supplement to the above as it records what she evidently considered to be a reliable and full, if concise,

text of the exercise. When such exercises are given extempore, there is both a risk of something being overlooked and the possibility that a fresh aspect will be discovered and brought. After establishing sensation, concentrate on feeling (as in I Am). Then connect that feeling with feeling in the arms and especially with the words Lord Have Mercy. Order for limbs which are in canon— 1 2 3

right arm, right leg, left leg, left arm right leg, left leg, left arm, right arm left leg, left arm, right arm, right leg.

Then with the reverberation I Am. Finally, remain within own atmosphere, keeping emanations within that limit—watching the breathing—taking in the higher hydrogens with the in-breath, and retaining them with the out-breath for at least five minutes. Note: The finger exercise can be done after the Lord Have Mercy.

The main difference between this and the exercise given by her husband is that in this exercise the entire round of the four limbs is gone through four times, in canon. Also of significance is the remaining for five minutes or more after the exercise, continuing the breathing exercise, because it shows that the exercise is valued partly because of the state it produces. Once more, it makes a connection between this prayer and Gurdjieff’s own invocation: “I am.” The “finger exercise” is the Soil Preparing Exercise of Chapter 7. The combination of these exercises indicates the value of thinking in terms of an “alphabet” that was used to make larger wholes.

14.6 “Lord Have Mercy” and Gurdjieff’s Sources I suggest that Gurdjieff took this prayer from the Athonite tradition. The thesis is more plausible because the prayer “Lord Have Mercy” is, at first blush, an anomalous addition to Gurdjieff’s system, and he made most use of the prayer in the exercises, the chief of which, I have suggested, came, directly or indirectly, from Mount Athos. However, the very paradox points to the underlying reality: Gurdjieff was fundamentally a mystic, even if he fashioned for himself a secular mask. As he found he needed to introduce not only tasks and disciplines, but especially contemplation-like exercises, he became more overtly religious: After all, these exercises, now central to his system, ultimately hailed from the home of Orthodox spirituality. I have elsewhere addressed the methodological question of assessing the use of sources.16 I concluded there that while borrowing and originality can coincide, an item found in two different places can be so strikingly similar in both contexts as to make borrowing very plausible; and the claim will be more plausible as there are more similarities and fewer differences between the conjectured borrower and the source. Further, the possibility of borrowing increases where the conjectured borrower is familiar with the source or motifs, and can be shown to have elsewhere borrowed from that conjectured source; and the presence of a “blind motif,” an anomalous item that can be explained by that borrowing, makes the claim more plausible. These considerations apply to my thesis of an Athonite origin of Gurdjieff’s “Lord Have Mercy” Exercises. The relevant factors are these: 1. The Jesus Prayer in the texts of Nicephorus is similar to Gurdjieff’s two Assisting Exercises from the Third Series. 2. The Jesus Prayer is counted with beads in Way of a Pilgrim, while Gurdjieff used counting on chaplets with some of his pupils, and employed a counting exercise (the Soil Preparing Exercise) prior to the Assisting Exercises. 3. Gurdjieff claimed to be aware of arcane traditions on Athos that used the word “Ego” (I am). 4. His exercises are even closer to those of Nicephorus the Solitary if one substitutes “Lord have mercy” for “I am,” exactly the substitution that Jeanne de Salzmann said could be made, and that is related to Gurdjieff’s linking of the two evocations in 1943. If Gurdjieff’s comments about an “Ego” exercise on Mount Athos were correct, then this connection was probably first made within the Athonite tradition. 5. The Dobrotolubiye and Way of a Pilgrim were both not only available but celebrated throughout Russia, in a language Gurdjieff could read. 6. Gurdjieff taught contemplative exercises based around the prayer “Lord Have Mercy” and also at least one movement of that name. 7. This prayer seems inconsistent with his teaching as first delivered.

The possibility that Gurdjieff adapted the “Lord Have Mercy” Exercises from the Jesus Prayer both explains the anomaly at point 7 and shows that his system was becoming more overtly religious as he aged. My hypothesis has some basis, and accurately describes and explains developments in Gurdjieff’s teaching, even if conclusive proof is lacking. But there is another matter of some importance for a consideration of Gurdjieff’s sources. Having outlined the Ray of Creation, Gurdjieff said to his Russian pupils: You know the prayer “Holy God, Holy the Firm, Holy the Immortal”? This prayer comes from ancient knowledge. Holy God means the Absolute or All. Holy the Firm also means the Absolute or Nothing. Holy the Immortal signifies that which is between them, that is, the six notes of the ray of creation, with organic life. All three taken together make one. This is the coexistent and indivisible Trinity.17

Later, and after his exposition of Gurdjieff’s consideration of the prayer “Lord Have Mercy,” Ouspensky adds that Gurdjieff explained the Orthodox liturgy, astonishing him at how pure the recording of the creation and all its stages and transitions were in the liturgy, and how it should be taken far more simply than it is.18 If the ancient knowledge of the Ray of Creation is preserved in the Orthodox liturgy, it does

not necessarily mean that Gurdjieff considered Orthodox Christianity to be the source, but it does mean that Orthodox Christianity was intimately acquainted with the source, and was influenced by it. And it suggests that his source was at the least also sufficiently well acquainted with the Orthodox liturgy to be able to identify the teaching of Ray of Creation in it. This of course suggests a monastery on Mount Athos rather than in Central Asia.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18.

Gurdjieff (1950) 751–752. Gurdjieff (1950) 752. “Trisagion,” New Catholic Encyclopedia (Vol. 14, 2nd ed. Detroit: Gale, 2003), 209. Dix (1945) 451. Gurdjieff (2017) 48–49. Gurdjieff (2017) 51. Schaeffer (1964) 8. De Salzmann (2010) 27. De Salzmann (2010) 64. De Salzmann (2010) 73. De Salzmann (2010) 255–256. De Salzmann (2010) 260. Benson (2011) 138. This also allows a different perspective on Gurdjieff’s assuming the voice of Beelzebub, a fallen angel: see footnote 26 to Section 6.3. Ouspensky (1949) 322–324. Ouspensky (1949) 119. Azize (forthcoming). Ouspensky (1949) 132. Ouspensky (1949) 303.

15 The Color Spectrum Exercise

15.1 Introduction In my judgment, this is likely to be an authentic Gurdjieff exercise because, as mentioned in Section 13.1, George Adie told me that all the methods he used came from Gurdjieff. Further, in the Third Series, Gurdjieff treats of color in a way that can readily be related to this exercise. As with the Clear Impressions Exercise (see Chapter 16), no other pupil of Gurdjieff had this exercise, so far as I am aware. My own conjecture is that this exercise is referred to in Adie’s notes, set out in Section 13.1, on May 17, 1949, where he writes what appears to me to be “strengthened (+ esoteric).” This is based on his statements, in groups where questions were asked about this exercise, that the purpose of this exercise was to “give strength.” “Strengthened” is unlikely to be a mere diary-like comment about feeling more robust; that would have been out of place.

15.2 Gurdjieff on Color in Life Is Real In that part of Life Is Real Only Then, When “I Am” that was only in the second expanded edition, Gurdjieff wrote about how in man there are three kinds of vibrations having their origins in active thought (and sometimes in passive thought), in feeling, and in the functioning of all the body’s organs. He adds that: The vibrations given off by the whole presence of man in a state of complete relaxation constitute in themselves an atmosphere analogous to the spectrum of colors, having a known limit to its expansion. And as soon as a man begins to think, to feel or to move, this spectrum-like atmosphere changes, both as to the volume of its expansion and as to the quality of its presence. The greater the intensity of manifestation of one or another of the separate functions of the general psyche of a man, the more the spectrum of his atmosphere is differentiated.1

Gurdjieff is not saying that we objectively have colors in our atmosphere, like some sort of Kirlian photography. But rather, the concept (and, in the exercise discussed later in this chapter, the representation of colors) can be useful in understanding how man’s atmosphere works, and even in concentrating one’s attention within it. Incidentally, Gurdjieff is not known to have ever spoken of human “auras” or “thought forms” visible to “clairvoyant investigators.” The “combination of heterogeneous vibrations” was represented by Gurdjieff in the following picture: On a dark night, during a violent storm over the ocean, some people on shore observe the oscillations of a floating collection of many colored electric lamps, connected with each other at longs intervals and at the ends with two wires.2

Every element of this metaphor has some significance. In my interpretation, we are the storm-tossed and night-bound ocean, and the lamps are our centers. It is dark night because the ocean as a whole (that is, our state in its entirety) cannot be seen. All that is visible are the lights from the lamps, which are displays of our centers; being unable to perceive ourselves as a whole, we see only flashes of various and diverse color. Then, it is stormy because we are often in a state of excessive tension (Gurdjieff has just said that it is different when we are in a state of “complete relaxation”). The depths of the ocean are our subconscious, which is vast and supports the entire spectacle, but cannot itself be seen. The lights are “electric” because they represent the radiations given off by our bodies. The lamps, as stated, represent the centers, while the connections between the lamps are parallel to the connections between the centers (the quality of the connections is variable).3 Gurdjieff continued: Although these colored lamps draw their current from one and the same source, yet since their rays pass through changing conditions of various kinds, some shine out to a distance, others affect each other as they interpenetrate, still others are completely swallowed up either mid-way or at the very place of their arising.4

The “source” is, of course, the body and its accumulators, which elaborate energies.5 Some centers are stronger than others and some do not work properly but use the energies of other centers.6

15.3 The Color Spectrum Exercise George Adie taught this exercise over two sessions. In the first session, that of October 17, 1979, Adie taught the first, second, and fourth parts. The third part was added on November 14, 1979, on which occasion all four parts were taught in their proper order. The fourth part was always an essential part of the exercise, but the third part could be withheld, at least for a period, until the other sections were learned.

The first part consisted of sensing the body in a particular order. The second part was to sense the body again, in that order, while adding a representation of colors. The third part combined sensing and the representation of colors with an exercise for the breath. The fourth part was to collect oneself and to affirm “I am.” The transcripts are not very easy to follow, and as it was given in two parts it may be easier to set out the skeleton of the exercise. In the first part, the exercitant is to sense: a) b) c) d) e) f) g) h) i)

all of the body as a whole (with a “strong” sensation) the head, face, and neck both arms the breast and the solar plexus the belly the spine as a whole, from the very bottom to the very top both legs the area of the sex organs (including the buttocks) all of the body as a whole.

If it is possible, one adds the sensing of each part to the part or parts before, but the emphasis or greater focus is on the part added. So, when one is due to sense the arms, for example, one does not become negligent of the sensing of the head, but allows it only a lower place in one’s consciousness. After this, one reverses the process, so that one senses the area of the sex organs (including the buttocks), both legs, the spine as a whole, the belly, the breast and the solar plexus, both arms, the head, face and neck, and, once more, all of the body. That is the first series. The exercitant is, however, to repeat it twice if possible (that is, to go through the sensing series thrice in all). However, if time does not permit, the exercitant does one or two series. With the last series of sensing, when sensing the body as a whole for the last time, one represents to oneself that it is suffused with white light. In the recordings of group meetings after the exercise had been given, many people were confused about the suffusion of light, trying to sense or even see the different colors. Both George and Helen Adie explained that the exercise involves representing to oneself that the requisite limb or the entire body, as the case may be, is suffused: One does not imagine that one senses or feels the color. I set out the second part in skeleton format: In the second part, the exercitant is to sense and represent: a) b) c) d) e) f) g) h) i)

all of the body as a whole suffused with white light the head, face and neck suffused with violet light both arms suffused with indigo (dark blue) light the breast and the solar plexus suffused with light blue (sky blue) light the belly suffused with green (emerald green) light the spine as a whole, suffused with yellow light both legs suffused with orange light the area of the sex organs, including the buttocks, suffused with red light all of the body as a whole suffused with white light.

As with the first part, one then reverses the order, beginning with the area of the sex organs and buttocks, suffused with red light, and so on through to the end, when one is once more to sense all of the body suffused with white light. With this part, again, if one can add the representation of the earlier members to the representation of the latest member, that is good, although it is much harder. This is done once, but can be attempted twice if time allows. In the third part, one senses and represent to oneself, with an attention that is directed not just from the head but from the whole of the exercitant: a) all of the body as a whole suffused with white light for three breaths; b) over three breaths, as I inhale, the whole suffused with white light, and as I exhale, the head and face and neck with violet light c) over three breaths, as I inhale, the whole with white light, and as I exhale, both arms suffused with indigo light d) over three breaths, as I inhale, the whole suffused with white light, and as I exhale, the breast and solar plexus with light blue light e) over three breaths, as I inhale, the whole suffused with white light, and as I exhale, the belly with green light f) over three breaths, as I inhale, the whole suffused with white light, and as I exhale, the spine with yellow light g) over three breaths, as I inhale, the whole suffused with white light, and as I exhale, both legs with orange light h) over three breaths, as I inhale, the whole suffused with white light, and as I exhale, the area of the sex organs and buttocks with red light i) over three breaths, all of the body as a whole suffused with white light.

The exercise is then reversed, exactly the same as the reversal in the other parts of the exercise, until one arrives back at the sensation of all of the body suffused with white light for three breaths. The fourth part is to remain collected for several minutes, and then to affirm “I am,” thrice. This part is considered to be very important as allowing the results of the effort to be retained. On November 14, 1979, George Adie added at the end of the exercise this instruction: I wish this force to become mine for my being. I accept all shocks. I represent to myself what I shall be doing in the day, and make my plan, appointing moments to come to myself. I aim to connect my state at the appointed moments with my state as I experience it now.

In the exchanges that followed in small groups, the Adies made clear that part of the aim of this

exercise was to give one access to a certain strengthening force, and that one did not try to feel the color but rather to represent it to oneself as suffusing the pertinent part of the body.

15.4 Commentary on the Color Spectrum Exercise In my opinion, the picture Gurdjieff drew in Life Is Real explains a good deal about how this exercise operates. The first essential point is calm and relaxation. That is clear from Life Is Real and relates to the addition of the significance of the disharmonized fifth point in the octave in the 1950 edition of Beelzebub (see Section 2.2). The next aspect is coming to some awareness of the vibrations given off by the human body. This was the very rationale behind the Atmosphere Exercise (see Section 11.6). Whether Gurdjieff understood the colors to somehow objectively relate to the parts of the body, I do not know, but at least the color red for the sexual organs might suggest that. What is beyond doubt, however, is that the exercise links the awareness of the body to consciousness of the breath, and uses the medium of representing a sort of cloud of color in order to link them together. That the white light should cover the whole of the body is consistent with Gurdjieff’s other exercises, which always work toward a unified and integrated “collected state.” In Life Is Real, Gurdjieff says that the “spectrum-like atmosphere changes” as soon as one begins thinking and moving. So, in this exercise, there is no movement, and the thinking is strictly directed to conscious control of those changes in atmosphere. In other words, while I can see why the Adies would say that the purpose of the exercise was to acquire force, I would fill in the thought, as it were, by suggesting that perhaps it is intended to allow one to acquire force by consciously retaining it within one’s atmosphere: a goal we have seen in other exercises, not least the Atmosphere and the Four Ideals Exercises. By limiting the colors to suffusing specific parts of the body, the “volume of [the] expansion [of the atmosphere]” is brought under control. Further, the “quality of its presence” is addressed by the relaxed and collected state, with awareness of the breath. As stated, it is impossible to say whether the colors chosen are meant to also have some effect on that quality. While some of this exercise relates not to centers as such, but to limbs, the head, the solar plexus, the spine, and the sex organs were considered to be focuses for the centers. Indeed, the centers are distributed throughout all the body,7 but they have different “command posts,” as it were. Also, conscious awareness of the limbs is said to have the effect of increasing the flow of blood into them, even if subtly, and this increase allows for a more even tempo of the functioning of the entire body. Ouspensky mentions how, in the Russian years, he came to realize the significance of the pulse, what he called “the big heart,” because the work of the heart is affected not by directly doing something to the heart muscles, but indirectly, by physical efforts that naturally and harmlessly affect the pulse.8 My penultimate comment is that Gurdjieff refers to the “spectrum of [the exercitant’s] atmosphere [being] differentiated.” The greater the differentiation, he avers, the “greater the intensity of manifestation of one or another of the separate functions of the general psyche of a man.” This exercise should produce quite definite differentiation, so on Gurdjieff’s principles, it should also allow for the stronger manifestation of one’s functions, which would relate to Adie’s understanding that the purpose of the exercise was to provide strength. Related to this, it is a feature of Gurdjieff’s teaching that he states both that the centers should work harmoniously, and that we should become aware of them separately. There is no paradox. Unless they are each clearly raised to consciousness, they cannot work properly, and thus cannot work in tandem. As an analogy, one might take writing: If the letters of a word are not sufficiently distinct, the word cannot be read. Finally, the aim of this exercise, returning to Gurdjieff’s picture, might be expressed as this: The storm over the ocean is to be calmed, and night to be dispelled. The observer on the shore can then see, if not the connections between the lamps, at least that the lamps are connected. When they are, they will work in a harmonious and regular order, coming on one by one and then all together, at which point their specific colors are all taken up into one radiance that expresses the whole under conscious direction.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

Gurdjieff (1975) 176–177. Gurdjieff (1975) 177. Gurdjieff (2014) 45. Gurdjieff (1975) 177. Ouspensky (1949) 233–235. Ouspensky (1949) 109–110. Ouspensky (1957) 59. Ouspensky (1949) 351.

16 The Clear Impressions Exercise

16.1 Introduction As noted, Gurdjieff wanted his exercises, even the contemplative ones, to be related to and have an effect on life in the social domain. This would, of course, be easier with tasks and disciplines, as defined in Section 0.2. Also to this end, some of his contemplative exercises were to be practiced with open eyes. Thus the Second Assisting Exercise, one of the most important of all, specifically requires the exercitant to look at a particular object; as the exercise proceeds, it could be said that the gaze rests on that object, rather than that one looks. In 1980, George Adie gave several variations of a contemplative exercise with open eyes. In addition, I have heard of an exercise allegedly given by Jeanne de Salzmann where one looks at an object until the difference between object and subject disappears. I do not have details of it, and I could not find it in The Reality of Being. For those reasons, in addition to what was written in Section 13.1, I am of the opinion that, more likely than not, this is an exercise Adie learned from Gurdjieff. I suspect that this is the exercise Adie refers to as “Complete surrender” on May 6, 1949 (see Section 13.3), because one “surrenders,” so to speak, going out to our impressions, allowing them to enter the mind, without comment.

16.2 The Clear Impressions Exercise When Adie gave the exercise in 1980, he omitted to provide any name for it. However, he did, on several occasions, speak of the importance of receiving clear impressions by medium of this exercise. I have omitted most of the preamble. In numbered paragraphs, the transcript reads:

1. The exercise is for a period of fifteen minutes. As you already know, the best time is first thing in the morning. . . . This fifteen minutes is divided into three parts, and it makes very definite use of a clock. I want everybody to have a clock or a watch at hand. Not right in front of them, but at hand. And it’s divided into three parts, that’s five minutes each part. 2. And the first part is concerned with the outer impressions. And so, the first part, the eyes are open. In the second part it’s concerned with the inner impressions, and the eyes are closed. And the third part, again, I am concerned with going back to the outer with as much realization as I can of myself, and also taking note of the outer, my obligations and plans for the day. And that’s the third five minutes. 3. And the crux, the key difficulty, and also the maximum experience, the maximum new realization, comes exactly in the experience of taking in the visual surroundings. As I regard outside, I don’t look in one spot. I take in everything that is in front of me, all my surroundings, and everything in the surroundings, I take in. 4. But at the same time, I work on my sensation in rotation. A very extraordinary experience is possible there. I look, I take in the visual impressions. Of course, I also take in any sounds. But I take in the visual impression, but I do not stop this sensing in rotation. 5. The rotation order is one we’re very familiar with: it’s the right arm, the right leg, the left leg, the left arm, the area of the sex organs and spine, the solar plexus, and finally, the head. I sense in that order, one after another. 6. And I verify I have that sensation before I pass onto the next, which is added, so that I finally finish up with a total sensation. 7. In the meantime, I have an unbroken regard for the externals. And I look. Now what is going to take place there? I am not going to try and describe it now, but this is a very critical thing. You will be related to the outside world through your eyes. And yet, what will it mean? 8. I cannot lose any element of it. I am aware, I am working with my attention, and I am relaxing, and I am keeping my posture. Of course, I have to prepare before the fifteen minutes. I have to free myself, raise my arms, drop the belly, have a good posture. And then start. I maintain that posture, and I look around. 9. You will be in your own room. Your own room is full of objects: desirable, undesirable, tidy, untidy. And there you are. And your eye is going to see all of them, but you don’t cease this effort. Now there is a very definite kind of effort which you never ordinarily make. And somewhere between that are you. 10. And for the second five minutes, you close your eyes, and you relate to the inner scene. But you continue the sensing, you keep that. And you will see how the thoughts and associations of the inner country cannot proceed as usual. You have to judge that five minutes. You can become quite accurate about it, without having to look up every half a minute. 11. And then the third five minutes: again, there’s this outer contact, with visual impressions coming in. Once more, I keep sensing myself, coming to the sensation of myself as a whole. Then I get up and go to the day. It is finished. 12. What we need more than anything is to understand what we are about, so that all the moments of waking which we do have are not wasted. Many people have said that they have a moment of remembering, but they are in the void. And this is what I want you to experience: to be in the void. 13. See, when you are here with your sensation, and you have an impression, there’s a confrontation. If you are present at the moment of confrontation, to that extent you are conscious. 14. The wrong kind of effort appears in the observations and reports . . . Forcing is quite wrong: and yet we have to make effort. But what kind of an effort? This exercise is to help us learn this effort. 15. Here’s a note: “The essence of the exercise is to divide one’s attention, to balance it, and to avoid tension and effort. This subtle effort is totally different from any ordinary idea of effort. The exercise is a very advanced and a very difficult one.” 16. It is very simple, it’s too simple for us. “If we try our best, we are certain this effort will not be wasted. Just as all reality is one, so our subjective outer and inner fantastic worlds are one, and it is between the reality and the fantasy of both our inner and outer worlds that our possibility of conscious development lies, and where also lies the field of our work of becoming. Actually in that between-situation.” 17. That’s where we want to come, and with the exercise, if you fulfil it properly, you get the chance to experience that betweencondition. 18. Now in the experience of the exercise, in the first five minutes, our eyes continually move and receive impressions of things external to us. As this continues, we maintain our body sensing in rotation [Adie sets the order out again], but we do not cease from regarding our surroundings and all objects around us. However we do not think about what we see, but try and keep our recognition of what we see, in a way, in the background, very different from normal. Perhaps there will seem to be no thoughts. The things we see seem to have no significance. We do not possess them. We do not understand them. 19. . . . and from this we could understand that always we are caught and held, identified with what we see, and that we project what we see. We project what we see, creating for ourselves an unreal, fantastic world of possessions, demands, hates, lusts, irritability, and endless appraisal and criticism. 20. And now, looking at these surroundings, they seem to be different from usual, separated from us, we do not understand them, and only with a special kind of felt effort can we continue to sense ourselves and at the same time receive these impressions external to us: receive them without identification. This is a confrontation, leading perhaps to a moment of selfawareness, a moment of consciousness . . . not seeing, but of consciousness. 21. And don’t forget that in the last five minutes, we try and sense ourselves, inner and outer, simultaneously. And we continue to sense ourselves. So let us try now . . . 22. . . . The movement of the sensing can be regular. The taking in of impressions can be irregular. Perhaps you find a cessation of words . . . and yet I couldn’t say that I am less aware of where I am. 23. Some people tend to have a fixed stare. Don’t do that. Move your eyes. More difficult, but it will stop you getting tense. Don’t fear to take in everything. 24. Now the second five minutes. . . . I am present to my body and my sensation. Comments are very faint, they’re in the background. This guarding, and the sensing of the limbs in this order, this isn’t thought, this isn’t like any other thoughts. I am able to do that without thinking. See, there’s some element in me, my higher mind—it can function without all those words. I can know if I slow down. 25. I am also aware of feeling, my feeling. I also maintain my posture. . . . 26. Before I open my eyes, I listen to the reverberation. “I” . . . “Am.” [Those present repeat “I” . . . “Am.”] 27. The third period starts. I retain this rotation of sensation. I retain the feeling. 28. . . . I am in this position, being present to the visual and audible impressions: what are my plans for the day? I haven’t lost my sensation. I know I am here. What is left for me but some flashing idea of the kind of day, the kind of trap; what I may need; that to which I have to return, but not as I was, not a slave. 29. I can have inner presence and speak and look. Why should I not? This is to experience that. 30. Again, with the eyes open, I experience that vibration: “I” . . . “Am.” [They respond again.] It is freer, the “I” . . . “Am” is freer.

On October 29 or 30, 1980, Adie gave the exercise again, but this time he reversed the order of the first two parts, commencing with the eyes closed. I shall set out only those parts of the instructions that complement what was said previously. I shall continue the numbering, although these comments are from a different meeting.

31. Of course the eyes are relaxed. They are not strained at all. The face is relaxed in all parts. I visit everything. I am busy. I begin to get a sense of another point from which I am working. Something central. 32. As I pass from point to point, I begin to establish awareness of the relativity within me, which leads to a beginning of the sense of the wholeness, the oneness. 33. This is a very relaxed position. For me, perhaps, I had the idea that with my eyes open it would be tense. Not at all. It’s just a window open, nothing more. I work here, and I am open to that level. 34. Because if I begin to experience or relate to that level at all, I realize that that level must be in me. I can only recognize it, respond to it from an equal level. Not to think too much about that . . . 35. When the visual impressions, the forces enter, I receive these without words. I freely turn my head from one side to the other, up and down . . . I may receive impressions which I haven’t had since I was a young child. But I don’t think about anything. I am free from thought, and to ensure this, as I turn my head with the windows of my eyes open, receiving impressions without words or explanations . . . I maintain a series of sensations of my limbs . . .

Afterwards, he added this note: 36. Like this, one may experience real struggle to retain an inner balance. It is like being in a whirling machine. They have such machines in the training of pilots and astronauts, simulators, going into a vehicle free of gravity. In this situation, one tries to establish an inner center of gravity, which affects the blood flow, and it directs the consciousness away from the head towards the compelling reactions and even the visceral sensations of the bowels. 37. This is such a definite, and at the same such a demanding exercise, like creating your own center of gravity, the sense of level and direction, while all these coordinates are moving, in this one may have a very brief moment of effort with actually no attention left for normal thought. From such an experience, a self-awareness is possible, and the cutting of the momentum of ordinary dreams and associations. 38. From this one can face a clean, new, strange unknown day, of more conscious life, from which the possibility of some kind of will-action involved in purpose, choice, will and fulfilment becomes possible; and the fulfilment is always more and different than one can imagine in the planning.

16.3 Commentary on the Clear Impressions Exercise

1. When Adie gave the exercise he said that, for the period it was used, it would replace the usual Preparation, and hence it was to be done “first thing in the morning.” 2. It falls into three parts, taking in external impressions, then internal, then both. In the final period, one assesses one’s obligations and makes plans for the day, meaning plans to remember oneself during the day. The very form of the exercise speaks of Gurdjieff: During the first part the exercitants conduct the active force (they look); in the second part they conduct the passive force (they close their eyes); and in the third part, the harmonizing force, they perform both actions together, with a plan for the day. But note that the second time Adie gives the exercise, he reverses the order of the first two sections, so that the exercitants are active, then passive, then reconciling. 3. The conscious receipt of visual impressions is a specific way of bringing the “first conscious shock,” which, according to the Food Diagram, is necessary to produce the higher hydrogens needed for self-remembering (see Section 2.7). 4. No impression is to be excluded; after all, the exercitant needs to be able to hear and follow Adie’s instructions, but the effort is more geared to the conscious receipt of visual impressions while sensing the body. 6. Although there is a rotation, it is a rotation of focus. As always, the sensation of the body is cumulative “so that I finally finish up with a total sensation.” 8. Adie here refers to the manner in which he taught his pupils to adopt a good posture before any Preparation or seated exercise. 9 and 12. When Adie says “somewhere between that are you,” he means, I suggest, that one is aware of both the external world and the internal, and struggles to remain present to both. In paragraph 12 he puts the same thought by saying “this is what I want you to experience: to be in the void.” 13. The appearance of a normal human, and not merely a mechanical consciousness, requires three forces: sensation, an impression, and presence. 14 and 15. One formulation of the purpose of the exercise is given: to be able to receive impressions without trying to force them in, as it were. That is, one only needs to be present to receive the impressions that are always available. There is no straining, no ordinary effort. 16 and 17. Adie now introduces a piece he had written before the meeting. He often said that the effort required to be present was “too simple for us,” and that “no effort is ever wasted.” In the balance of the piece, he is saying that both aspects of our present world, the outer and the inner, are fantasies. However, our situation does not have to remain like that: There is a reality, and “our possibility of conscious development lies” in simultaneously confronting our subjective fantasies while perceiving reality. It is this which he calls the “between-situation.” And now, in a different formulation of the purpose of the exercise, he states that it is to provide “the chance to experience that between-condition.” 18. Adie then extemporizes again. He stresses that the exercitants should not “think about what we see.” There will be a certain association, which he terms a “recognition,” but this is to be kept “in a way, in the background, very different from normal.” This is a little vague, but the effort cannot really be defined, only described. Similarly, he suggests that as the exercitants look about, objects appear to “have no significance. We do not possess them. We do not understand them.” In terms of Gurdjieff’s teaching, when we no longer identify, our perception of reality is fresh and immediate. 19. Adie describes the way we receive impressions when identified as the projection of an unreality that takes the form of “possessions, demands, hates, lusts, irritability, and endless appraisal and criticism.” 20. In continuing to describe our perceptions when free from identification, Adie states that our surroundings are “different . . . separated from us.” These perceptions are not even properly called “seeing,” but simply consciousness. 22. Adie states that the movement of the sensing should be regular because that rotation is the metronome, as it were, of the exercise. He acknowledges that the receipt of impressions will be irregular. He reiterates here, and in other comments I have omitted from the transcript lest it become unnecessarily repetitive, that as words (internal thoughts) cease, one’s awareness is by no means diminished. 23. Of a piece with Gurdjieff’s warning against unnecessary tension, Adie advises some present not to allow their eyes to become fixed into a stare. Interestingly, he briefly suggests that perhaps some are failing to receive the impressions they could because of fear. 24. Adie now explicitly states the key to the paradoxical situation that one must be able to follow his instructions and direct the effort, yet without thinking: The mind used in this exercise is the higher mind (emotional and intellectual part of the intellectual center), not the formatory apparatus (moving part of the intellect), as to which see Section 2.4. 25 and 27. Note the importance of awareness of some feeling of one’s own self, and maintaining the posture. In answers to groups around this time, Adie said that the number of clear impressions is in direct proportion to the presence of feeling, and in inverse proportion to negative emotion (that is, the clearer our impressions, the better the quality of our emotions.) 26. At this point, the exercise calls for the affirmation “I am,” perhaps because in Gurdjieff’s theory a representative of “I” is needed for the effort of harmonizing. 28. Adie advises the exercitants to try and plan for the day while retaining some sensation of themselves, and still not thinking, but rather having “some flashing idea of the kind of day . . . [and] what I may need.” This instruction is, of course, for the morning. 29. Another formulation of the aim of the exercise is offered: to experience having inner presence while speaking and looking. 31. In all these exercises, the exercitant should attempt them from a collected state—that is, “another point from which I am working. Something central.” 32. Adie states that one’s sense of wholeness will arise from relating or connecting the different parts, not only of the body, but also “within.” 33 and 34. This is an interesting expression: One does not look so much as open “a window” while being open to another level, which is within. 36 and 37. Probably after having heard observations from his pupils over about four weeks, Adie now offers another way of describing the effort that he thinks may help: struggling to retain an inner balance or center of gravity while in an astronaut’s simulator (a modern example of which is the “enhanced Zero-gravity Locomotion Simulator”).1 Adie states that the effort “affects the blood flow, and it directs the consciousness away from the head towards the compelling reactions and even the visceral sensations of the bowels.” This was stated on rare occasions in Gurdjieff groups, so that people would not think that they had to do something to change the flow of blood in their bodies (e.g., by hanging upside down). All that one needs to do, according to Gurdjieff’s theory, was work at the exercise, and these changes would occur by themselves to the degree they were necessary, as they are regulated by instinctive center, which knows (with the knowledge proper to it) what it must do to maintain physical safety.2 But being aware that this was what was happening can give confidence. 37. This is the final formulation of the purpose of the exercise: “creating your own center of gravity . . . while all these coordinates are moving . . . cutting of the momentum of ordinary dreams and associations.” In Gurdjieff’s system, it is axiomatic that while one is in dreams, and one’s thought never proceeds beyond the purely associative, one is at the mercy of negative emotions, and “while we are governed by negative emotions, the influences coming from Higher Centers cannot reach us.”3 According to Gurdjieff’s theories, then, this exercise has the virtue of cutting down mechanical thoughts and the negative emotions that flourish amidst those thoughts, and thus clearing the field of consciousness for higher influences.

Notes 1. 2. 3.

https://www.nasa.gov/centers/glenn/events/tour_ezls.html, accessed July 6, 2017. Vaysse (1979) 88. Nicoll (1998) 29.

17 The Preparation

17.1 Introduction Gurdjieff is known to have been teaching his “Preparation” in 1946, for the late Dr. John Lester told me that they were taught it from their first meetings, which were in that year. At this stage, no evidence of Gurdjieff teaching it any earlier is available. It is absent from the published transcripts of the Paris groups. However, the idea of daily Preparation, and also of a daily review, had been in Gurdjieff’s mind for several years, even if one discounts the Genuine Being Duty Exercise from Beelzebub. In a transcript of a group meeting of September 9, 1943, in answer to a question about nightly rest, Gurdjieff gave this advice: It is not the quantity [of sleep], it is the quality that matters. When you sleep seven and a half hours and you need two hours to relax in the evening and two hours to tense up in the evening, that leaves you three and a half hours of sleep. You don’t relax yourself consciously and this takes time. Everything takes place mathematically, but it is automatic and this takes time. To start with, you can relax consciously up until the moment of sleep. On the one hand, you relax and this rapidly allows you to fall asleep. On the other hand, you begin to establish a discipline between your consciousness and our body. . . . In the morning when you wake up, do the same thing: immediately make a program, think, suggest to yourself how you will spend your day; do the same work as when you relax yourself. Your activity will double. . . . make a program. Not a fantasy, but a real program.1

This is significant not only for linking the program to a relaxed state in the morning, but also because a mutually supporting cycle is established: preparing each night and each morning for the next phase of the day. The most important comments on the program, connecting it to a form of the Preparation, seem to be these of December 9, 1943: [Y]ou will find a quiet place. You will sit down very quietly; you will become calm in a good state. Do this for one or two weeks or a month, and you will no longer believe anything or anyone. Make a program. If you don’t have a program, anything—any idiot, any nonentity or shit—can order you around. Trust only this program you have decided on while in a special state. The main thing is to decide how you want to behave, what you want to do, the relationship you want to establish with each person; that is what a program is. And you believe only in this. And even if God comes to disturb you and tells you to do something else, you must not do it. Maybe he has just come to trip you up. You do only what you have decided to do in your special state.2

Even during the year 1943, there seems to be a development, as Gurdjieff more explicitly relates the program to a form of what will be the Preparation. By the next year, the practice of daily appointments, a usage the Adies intimately associated with the Preparation, was also being taught, so that on August 3, 1944, Gurdjieff refers to a task of selecting three times during the day to come to oneself: Do not consider the conditions; consider the moment of decision. At each of the three hours, you absolutely must remember yourself. You enter into yourself; you feel that you exist with all your presence and this—this is your task.3

Gurdjieff went on to link that task and its successful completion to the preparation for it. When Mme. D said she had tried but could neither remember herself nor achieve a strong sensation of herself, Gurdjieff replied: Your decision is not strong. . . . You must put yourself in a quiet state—relaxed—and in this state settle your task. You try it. Ten times, a hundred times, you fail. You continue. You take trouble. Little by little you train yourself and you achieve it. . . . Remember yourself consciously. Consciously. That is to say, by your own decision.4

Solange Claustres told me, in 2007, in Paris, after I had described the Preparation as the Adies taught it, that it was exactly as Gurdjieff had taught them. This is not proof that Gurdjieff was teaching the whole of the Preparation in 1941, but the basic elements were there by that time, and it had been put together by the time of his death. Touching the transcripts of the Preparation that are set out below, both Annie-Lou Staveley and Dr. Lester informed me that the outline of the Preparation I sketched for them was authentically from Gurdjieff. One particularly helpful published source is the chapter “Collection” in Questions and Answers Along the Way, by Hugh Brockwill Ripman (d. 1980), posthumously published in 2009. Brockman, like Adie, had been a pupil of Ouspensky, Gurdjieff, and Jeanne de Salzmann (1889–1990).5 The practice described there is not called the “Preparation,” yet it is the same. Other materials are available in Jean Vaysse’s Toward Awakening. Vaysse (c. 1917–1975) apparently met Gurdjieff in 1947. A prominent Paris cardiologist, he played a leading role in the groups. The evidence that in the 1940s Gurdjieff taught the Preparation to a number of his pupils is overwhelming. It is not so well known today, partly because of the discipline of secrecy, but also, I suggest, because so few of Gurdjieff’s students recorded it. As has been mentioned, what is not recorded is lost. The authentic Gurdjieff techniques for Transformed-contemplation suffered this fate in an extreme form because, from the 1960s on, they were increasingly displaced by de Salzmann’s “New Work” (see Section 12.5).

17.2 A Preparation by Helen Adie George Adie said that the Preparation can never be repeated: It must always be fresh.6 Yet, at the same time, he had many of his Preparations recorded so that the principles would not be lost. The clue to the paradox is, perhaps, that, from the perspective of the exercitant, the inner state required to practice the Preparation must always be found anew: The effort must always be fresh. There follows a transcript of a Preparation given by Helen Adie on August 23, 1978, to the group in Newport. After that, I shall set out the transcript of one taken by George Adie. The comparison of the two should allow the skeleton beneath them both to emerge. I have left in most of the false starts and unfinished sentences. Apart from attesting to the manner in which they were given, it provides a taste of the extempore nature of the delivery. I have numbered each paragraph.

1. I want to make a certain kind of effort, I need to know what I want. What do I want to find? What am I looking for? What is there now? What is the state of my being? I begin with what I find. I want to change the level of my being. But how is it? What is taking place? 2. I come here with, I have something here which wishes for something. But—I also bring with me some of my enemies. I need to know what I have to struggle with. I try to put away my worries, my interests. I have only one interest—one interest, to come to something more real in myself, something I can trust. 3. I am helped when I am here: working with others I am helped, but something must be active. I must find some activity in me. I can’t just wait passively: I have to make efforts. I have to find some control: control my attention. 4. How are my feelings? Always there is something going on in my feeling. I don’t know. I don’t know how to experience my feelings. 5. First, I have to be sure that my posture is right, that my back is straight, that my head is set on my shoulders in a relaxed way, and my chin not stuck out, or too much tucked in. I have to make sure that my body is relaxed. My body is relaxed, my feelings are quiet, there may be silence in my head. 6. To make sure that my body is relaxed, in my own time, I quickly go around the limbs and the parts of the body in the order that we know, just to check that there are no tensions. In my own time. But first, with my face, because there are always tensions there. First, I make sure that my face is relaxed, that my stomach is dropped, that it’s not pulled in . . . and now I go round my limbs and the parts of the body . . . but not in detail, just to check. Now I have a general sensation of myself, it is not deep, but a general impression of my sensation. 7. I try now to get a deeper impression, part by part, beginning with my right arm, the shoulder, try to sense more deeply . . . my upper arm, feel the life come into it, inside the elbow, the outside of the elbow and down the back of the forearm, the front of the forearm, back of the hand, the palm. 8. Then try to feel that sensation in my fingers, separately. Beginning with the thumb, the nail, even of the thumb . . . then the first finger, the whole of the finger, its backside and its underside. The point of the finger, its nail, the little finger. I don’t lose the sensation in the rest of the arm and the shoulder, and the third finger the same. I travel along the finger, and try to deepen my sensation of that finger. In the same way the middle finger. 9. I find I can always deepen the relaxation, there’s always some tension . . . try to . . . find a much finer sensation. I follow my arm and right hand, were it touches the left hand—it’s all taken into my experience. 10. I continue with the left leg, the thigh and the buttock, where it rests on the chair, travel down to the knee. Feel the solidity of my knee. Completely relaxed. The calf, the bone in the leg, travel right down to the ankles, the instep of my foot. Try to sense the toes, separately, each toe. The sole of the foot, and the heel. Try to feel the life now in my right leg and my right arm. They stand out. I try not to lose that. I pass on to the left foot. The sole of my left foot. The underneath part of the toes. Each toe separately. Continue within the instep . . . to the ankles. Up to the shin, the calf of my leg. Feel the life coming into it. And by itself, I find it waiting for me along the thigh, the upper part of the thigh, the back of the thigh, where I sit on the chair, feel the contact with the chair. I have two limbs which are alive. 11. I feel the life in them. I continue with my left arm, my left hand to begin with, the thumb, first finger, middle finger, the third finger, the little finger. All my fingers. Feel the way they grow from my palm. I sense the palm of my hand, through the back of my hand. 12. I still have not lost the sensation of the other limbs. I return to it. I don’t need to come back, and traveling up my wrist, the inside to the forearm, the other side, to the elbow . . . and now the upper arm, the inside of my upper arm. Feel the roundness of my arm. The back of the upper arm to the shoulder. I am aware of my four limbs full of sensation. 13. I wish to hold that in my attention, not to lose it. I need to be very active inside. And the shoulder, I can feel across the back, I feel I have an area of my back with sensation, including the spine, from the base of the spine, vertebra by vertebra, the spine. 14. I make sure that my face is still relaxed. No tension has come back. 15. Now I turn to the front of my trunk, beginning with the sex organs, the pit of the stomach, the lower part of the stomach, make sure that it is completely relaxed. It’s very difficult to maintain relaxation there. Continue up to the solar plexus, and the chest. The neck, front of the neck, collarbone. The back of the neck, collarbone, the back of the neck, where it meets with the sensation of the spine. 16. Up the back of my head. The ears. The right ear. My left ear. Travel now up the back of the head, over the top of the head, and the forehead. 17. My eyes. My eyes. Are they really relaxed? The bridge of my nose. Each side of my nose. The nostrils. The whole of my nose. The right cheek. My left cheek. My mouth. My lips: my upper lip and my lower lip. My chin. I find my tongue lying relaxed. 18. And now the whole of my body is lit: lit up with sensation. 19. I try and hold that for a moment or two. I know my attention must be disciplined: I must exercise my will, because something is always waiting to take me. 20. Try to find that experience, to get away from the head. 21. Where do I experience it? 22. Where does the impulse come from? 23. Now perhaps, the state of my physical body is different from what it was from when I started. I am aware of this active— something—which is in control. 24. Now I want to become aware of my feeling. How do I experience my feeling? I need to know my feeling, very definitely. 25. I try to experience my feeling without formulating words about it, or without query. My feeling. 26. I try, in the same way, to connect that feeling to my four limbs, in my own time, not in the same detail. I try to feel, and I connect that feeling with my right arm, and then with the other limbs, the other parts of the body in turn. I am very vigilant. 27. I try to add one to the other, in the same way as I did with the sensation. 28. It doesn’t have to take long. 29. Now my body feels full, with something that is different from the sensation. Put more attention on the breathing, without changing it in any way. I try to get a conscious impression of myself breathing. I take in the air more consciously. 30. I am aware as I take it in that I take in special elements from the air, higher . . . hydrogens. Higher energy. 31. I realize it is possible for me now to have more conscious impressions of myself. I need to maintain that, so that some of the force may remain with me. They leave a trace. 32. I try to experience my state now. Is it the same? Has it changed? Is it more conscious? It is more alive? 33. Do I feel now, do I feel the central point that I can call “I”? 34. Am I able to say the words . . . I . . . am . . . without losing—it’s fugitive—without losing the impression? I want to maintain this impression of myself and to make this statement, because it must be true. 35. I try. Three times I try. “I” . . . “am.” [The exercitants also “I” . . . “am” three times.] 36. I know that I can’t maintain this state exactly like this. It’s not possible. I have to go into life. With my wish to keep my attention. To have some sensation of myself. Try not to lose anything. I try not to go into dreams. I try to listen in a different way. I don’t forget, it is not easy. Try not to miss my chance, to remember what I am here for. And now I will play some Sayyid music.

The entire Preparation took about 35 minutes. Where there were pauses in the delivery, I have started a new paragraph. There were more and longer pauses from paragraph 20, and especially from paragraph 30.

17.3 Commentary on the Preparation by Helen Adie 1. This sort of introduction, asking questions to prepare the exercitants for the effort, was typical. The chief thing is to prod the exercitants to examine their own state at the present moment. 2. At this point, Adie acknowledges that the exercitant has both desires and resistance. They can be reconciled by an impartial commitment to coming to: “something more real in myself,” alluding to Gurdjieff’s overriding search for reality. 3. It was axiomatic in Gurdjieff groups that by coming together, an atmosphere could be formed, which helped all the group, and that one person alone could not do this. But far from meaning that one could be passive, each person’s effort was needed. It was described as independent participation in an interdependent process. The exercitant’s tool is the control of attention, as Adie states. 4. Adie passed from placing in question the exercitant’s general state, and focused on the feeling. It would be futile to “decide,” as it were, what my feeling is: One must actually experience it. 5. After introductory remarks, Adie attends to posture, and then to relaxation, which for her comprise a relaxed body, quiet feelings, and a silent head. Sometimes she would speak of relaxing the feelings and the thoughts. 6. Note that Adie here begins bodily relaxation with the face and then passes to the stomach, the two parts of the body that she stressed. But this was a preliminary exercise; she will return to relaxation at a deeper level. 7. Adie takes the exercitants through the body, in some detail, commencing with the right arm. 8. The very fine sensation of the fingers of the right hand will not be repeated for every part of the body, but the theory was that having gone so deeply at the start, the attention would by itself proceed just as subtly, elsewhere, and even more quickly, and less would need to be said. 9. The aim is not to completely abolish, as it were, tension and become utterly relaxed: Tension and relaxation are to be calibrated so that one can retain the most beneficial posture. 10. When Adie states, “by itself, I find it waiting for me along the thigh, the upper part of the thigh,” she is referring to the phenomenon referred to two paragraphs above: Once the attention has been set on its course, it proceeds by the light of its own intelligence, so to speak. Speaking of feeling “life” in the limbs is not simply poetical: The attention is active with an initiative that is surer than that of the intellectual mind. As Gurdjieff said to Hulme about an exercise: “not with knowing . . . but with sure-ing.”7 12. Adie here gives the essential instruction that one does not sense each part of the body, seriatim, and then move to the next. Rather, one adds the sensation of each part to the sensation of the one before, so that at the end of the cycle, the entire body is sensed. 13. As stated, there must be a wish to hold the sensation of the whole in the exercitant’s attention, and this requires an inner activity. 14. Adie now returns to the relaxation of the face. Gurdjieff sometimes said to commence with relaxing the face and head, and sometimes to end with it. He changed his advice depending on the proclivity of the person he was speaking to: If engaged with someone who found it hard to relax the face, he would suggest ending with it, presumably on the basis that having relaxed other parts, the face might follow suit.8 19. Once the whole body has been “lit up with sensation,” it is maintained for a little before moving on to the next aspect of the exercise. As Adie states, the attention must be disciplined because distractions are always available. 20. Another reason for remaining with the sensation is “to get away from the head”—that is, to have the experience of the sensation rather than the thought of it. 22. The impulse she is asking about is the impulse to be conscious of one’s own reality. 23. Before adding the experience of feeling to the experience of sensation, it is desirable to be able to sense that an active impulse “is in control.” 24 and 25. As noted above, the feeling cannot be approached as directly as the sensation: It was usual to ask about the experience of the feeling, yet Adie instructs that it be experienced “very definitely” and wordlessly. 26. Adie directs the exercitant to connect the feeling to the sensation of the four limbs, thus effectively blending feeling and sensation. As the head is directing, the three “centers” that Gurdjieff considered the most important in daily life are now working together. 27. Adie insists that as the limbs are filled with the force of feeling, one after the other, the experience of the limbs is accumulated, as it were. 29. It is perhaps paradoxical, but George Adie would say that when the feeling was strong and the attention good, the feeling could be sensed, even if it was usually the sensation that, by definition, one sensed. But the sensation of the bodily sensation is a different one from that of the force of feeling, which is more subtle. 30. Adie specifically states that higher hydrogens and energy enter with the breath. 31. Again, it is axiomatic in Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation that when one has been more conscious, a trace is left by that experience. 33. As this implies, the purpose of the entire Preparation can be understood as coming to experience: “the central point that I can call ‘I’.” It is not necessarily meant that this is “I” in the highest form possible: There can be intimations of its presence, and, additionally, Gurdjieff said that before the Master (real I) comes, a more responsible “I,” or “Deputy Steward,” can appear. The Deputy Steward prepares the way for the Steward, and he for the Master.9 34. Adie says that the affirmation “I am” must be true, because in this sphere, imagination is dangerous: One will not proceed if one believes that one has attained the final goal. 35. Here, Adie gives the affirmation “I am” only three times, aloud. On other occasions it will also be given silently, but more often, three times three: three times silently, three times “breathed” with barely a murmur, and three times very softly voiced. Not all of Gurdjieff’s pupils used the affirmation “I am” at the end of the Preparation, although Claustres knew of it (oral communication). Willem Nyland (1890–1975), a personal pupil of Gurdjieff, knew of its use at the end of the relaxation exercise he taught.10 36. Adie would then play music as a sort of intermediate state between the full collected state and the conditions of the social domain. She emphasizes that one cannot maintain the state of the Preparation in life but can have the influence of it, with more sensation of myself and fewer dreams. After the Preparation, the state is continued wordlessly, as an influence. The Sayyid music is from Gurdjieff’s oeuvre.

17.4 A Preparation by George Adie This Preparation was taken by George Adie on June 9, 1982, again at Newport in Sydney. After some introductory comments, he said:

1. How do we understand this event, this beginning of a new session? . . . What is the purpose of this work about? 2. It’s an expansion of consciousness, and in that consciousness has to be an understanding, eventually, of all the necessary elements, of all the aspects. How could it afford to omit any? And then some aspects are more important than others, they have a degree of importance. 3. We have this as the aim, but it depends upon work. Do we realize that we actually come to work together? . . . How am I going to work? How are you going to work? . . . How? (Pause) 4. How? There’s the question. . . . Before it was mentioned, it was hardly there like it is now. “How” is the question for me; how, how do I work? 5. Our whole chance arises because we work together. For a moment perhaps, I remember myself. Then conditions inwardly change, then finer material is received, it’s transformed, and emanated. And then I forget, I go to sleep, but someone else is working. We have eighty here, so there is all that more possibility of a sum of consciousness between us. This isn’t a fantasy, this is a fact, much more factual than all our thoughts of the day. 6. So, we are engaged on work. How? What is our tool? Our tool is our attention. We work with that. And we work to expand our attention. It’s an expansion of consciousness, it’s an expansion of our attention. We have very little chance unless we gradually acquire the capacity to have attention in our three bodies, in our mind, in our feeling, and in our sensation. 7. Remember how it is said that everything has to have those three elements: the affirming, the denying and the reconciling; otherwise—nothing. So, for my consciousness there has to be that: that awareness in my mind, my body, and my feeling. So this is a tremendous event. In a moment we will sit for a little while together, working inwardly, and then perhaps we will find the usefulness of these thoughts.

Adie then began the Preparation proper. 8. When we prepare, we represent our envelope for a meter around. This is the actual circle of our radiation. We represent that, and we go inside that. And we go inside that with the intention of working. We close the eyes, and the first thing is not to let our thought go outside that envelope. We are now in it. It is our inner, it is our holy of holies, it is our oratory, it’s our . . . our inner place. 9. We don’t let our thoughts go outside that. Many thoughts can be there, dreams, but I am all inside now, I am working inside. And immediately something occurs which would take my mind out, I don’t go out. I wish that my thoughts would stop, that they would die down. If I try and resist them direct, they only increase. 10. So how do I work? I work through beginning to divide my attention, to direct it. I begin by directing my attention, with the aid of my head, onto my body . . . not just generally on my body, but very specifically on the parts of my body. I start, in this case, with the right arm, with the right hand. The hand is resting on my thigh; the right hand is resting inside the left hand, with the thumbs touching, and I can feel on the gaps between the fingers, the backs of the fingers of the right hand, I can feel the pads of the finger of the left hand. I sense them, I have the sensation. Immediately, I begin to see the fact of that sensation which previously I was unaware of. 11. Now I let my attention, I direct it upwards, travel upwards, into the palm of the hand, into the wrist, up into the forearm. I trace the consciousness of sensation, up into the triceps, the bicep, the hollow underneath the arm, the shoulder. There’s the peripheral sensation of the right arm. Definite. Consciousness beginning in that arm. Because this is a peripheral sensation, there are sensations much deeper inside. There is the sensation in the bones, in the veins, in the nerves, very fine inner sensation. 12. Well, there is the sensation of that right arm. Before I pass to the right leg, I just check on my posture, the posture, the spine quite erect, and the head not thrust forward, not tilted upwards, but as perfectly balanced as I can on the spine, easily, so that the head can turn to the right, or to the left, so that it is not poked forward, because it’s a very heavy member, and if it is poked forward, a lot of unnecessary work is being done, and the apertures through which the impressions and the material has to flow become closed. 13. This is the vertical line of the chakras right there. They have to be open, and they have to be erect for that purpose. Not tensely rigid, but perfectly balanced, like the body of a serpent. 14. Now I return to that arm, but I see that I have already acquired some sensation in the spine. I don’t let that go. To the spine, which runs right up to the base of the crown of the head, and to the right arm, now I add the right leg. I pass on with my attention to the right leg; I start with the hipbone, right down, over the thigh and the knee; feel the sensation, as it were, flowing down into the shin and the calf of the leg, into the instep, the ankle. Sole of the foot. Toes. And return upwards. 15. While I do this, I haven’t left the arm behind, I still sense that. I still sense the spine. Now I have the right half of the members of the body there unquestionably. 16. Now I pass on, adding each limb as I come to it. And I find perhaps, when I come to the left leg, it’s already waiting for me, the sensation, it almost springs at me. There it is, the left foot, the ankle, the shin, the knee. 17. As I follow up, I still maintain this posture, but now I am dividing my attention. I am expanding my attention. And there is the left leg added right up to the spine, right up to the hip, so that I have my spine, the right arm, the right leg, the left leg, and now the left arm. 18. I have not time for thoughts and wandering thoughts. I just follow carefully these factual parts of the body. 19. Now I add the area of the sex organs, sensation, the very base, the adhara lotus, and then into the pot-shaped, the bottom of the stomach, the pit of the stomach: what in Zen Buddhism is the tan-dien. 20. The diaphragm, I let it fall down. I don’t push the belly out but nevertheless it isn’t drawn in and up; it’s allowed to round itself out. 21. Now the solar plexus, the breast. And now again the head, balanced, finely balanced. 22. Now with that balance, I begin to notice my breath. I never interfere with my breathing, but I turn some on it. I don’t leave the sensation of my body, but I divide my attention. I leave enough attention on the body to be aware of all those parts separately and together, and I begin to notice the entry of the air as it comes in, and the impact of that air in the breast. And I may or may not notice a force rising from the pit of the stomach to meet it, to meet the incoming air which creates this impact which I sense in the breast, in the solar plexus. But that is not all: There is another thing, there is something of feeling there, which is quite different from the sensation. It is another experience, it is the experience of the body of feeling. 23. Without losing this overall sensation, which can even increase now, I begin to have this different experience of the rhythm of the breath, and the force of that mingling of two energies in the breast, the solar plexus, and the rhythm of it as it flows down into the pit of the stomach, is also the upward movement of the part that is not used. 24. And then the rising from the stomach again to meet the incoming next breath. Now I begin to really feel the force of that, not only in the pit of the stomach, but flying into the rest of the body. Into the arms, and again, this is a proof to me, because previously I had a sensation in the arms, I have it now, but there is also this added force of the breath coming in, and I see also, the sensation is more marked peripherally, and that this other force of the mingling of the air is more centrally placed. 25. If I am very well balanced, I might be able to perceive something of great fineness entering in through the center of the cranium; there is an aperture there, in the center of the skull, at the top of the skull, something of incredible fineness, which mingles with the air as it comes in. 26. This is a sort of triple-feeding, a feeding of this “I,” a very fine high element in through the head, this breath of life, this sensation of the body, the spine erect, everything relaxed within its right place. The tongue very limp, not tense, lying in the mouth, the sides of the tongue touching the insides of the teeth. The mouth not drawn down at the corners. The eyes very relaxed in the sockets. I feel the sensation: the skull, right over the top of the skull. 27. I begin to have the whole of experience, the sensation definite and separate, the feeling, the feeling, the force, and this

added something, altogether, as one whole of experience. Now I seek to interfere with nothing. I seek . . . My thought is entirely inside. 28. I work. How economical is this work! My thought passes, my attention passes, to one limb, or simultaneously to all limbs, connected, and yet also present clearly. The rhythm of the breath. 29. Now my body begins to awaken me, and help to maintain this balance because immediately attention is lost in that part, it begins to even call me, and my attention is even helped back to that part. There is the consciousness of the body, the bodily consciousness. I don’t have to be persuaded, it’s a fact for me. There is this unquestionable sensation: a fact. And there is no doubt, there is this other kind of experience, maybe I can’t describe it, but I don’t need to describe this force of air which I take in, which I feel in the solar plexus, and this finer reality. 30. In my possibility of refraining from tension, refraining from any doing in the ordinary sense. My first doing is to refrain from doing. I interfere with nothing. I work with my attention. Within this envelope, my effort is doing for being. I now have conscious, relatively conscious being. I cannot sustain it for an indefinite period. It is possible for a limited period, and before it starts to degenerate, I terminate it. 31. And I wish to test my state. Perhaps I test it in this way. With three breaths, three times, silently, on the in breath, silently I say “I” . . . and on the out breath “am.” Three times. I experience “I” connected with all my feeling, in the solar plexus, and “am” silently, connected with my spine and all my sensation . . . with the rhythm of the breath. 32. I test it three times with my breath. I breathe, for this I have to have my mouth open. “I am.” I feel, I experience the opening of this duct right down through my breast, right down into the pit of my stomach, with all my feeling, with all my sensing. 33. I force nothing, it’s very quiet, but I don’t make the mistake of doing it with my mouth closed. “I” . . . “am.” And now three times I murmur, and this is audible, I wish to experience that vibration, and it has to be as quiet as possible, not forced. 34. “I am” with all my feeling. “I” with all my sensation, the spine. “I am.” “I am.” “I am.” 35. Presently I open my eyes, but I don’t lose this state when I open my eyes. The state has to change, but I try not to lose it all. I force nothing. When I open my eyes I have to allow impressions to enter, but I do not have to sacrifice all of this; something can be retained, the balance, the awareness. The impact of the impression coming in will certainly affect it. Enough.

17.5 Commentary on the Preparation by George Adie I shall not deal with matters that have been adequately addressed when commenting on the Preparation by Helen Adie. 1– As with Helen Adie’s Preparation, initial animation by a question is considered important. Adie here refers to the integrated 4. unity of all Gurdjieff’s ideas and methods but states that there is, nonetheless, a hierarchy of importance. 5. Adie explains why it is that “our whole chance arises because we work together.” There being eighty people together, some at least will remember themselves, even if only briefly. But that is sufficient to receive, transform, and, most significantly, to emanate finer material. Even if those who have made that effort lose their way, they have helped others present, whose own work will help the others. 6 and 7. It is critical in Gurdjieff’s method to understand that “our tool is our attention . . . and we work to expand our attention.” One of the specificities of the Gurdjieff method is that one strives to have an active attention simultaneously in mind, feeling, and sensation. Adie means that in any effort to have this simultaneous attention of the three, one of these impulses will enter the exercitant’s presence as the affirming, denying, and reconciling forces of Gurdjieff’s Law of Three. He then states that in their common work they may “find the usefulness of these thoughts.” 8 and 9. The coming inside an “envelope” was seen in Section 11.6, Gurdjieff’s Atmosphere Exercise. Adie says that one meter is the extent of our radiations, these being the substances automatically produced by the organism, while the emanations of paragraph 5 are produced by a conscious effort and so disclose the nature of one’s individuality, not only one’s mass. Adie does not say that the envelope can be directly sensed, but rather that it is represented. To “go inside” it is to not allow thought to stray to anything outside that sphere. In Gurdjieff’s system, thought is quite literally material and can be restrained. Interestingly, Adie uses religious language to describe the atmosphere in which one makes this effort: “holy of holies” and “oratory.” 10. Here Adie began with the sensation of the right hand. In her Preparation, Helen Adie commenced with the face, and in the Preparation of August 14, 1985, Adie commenced with the feet.11 One could say that it does not matter where one starts, only provided that one starts. I suspect that Adie began with the feet more and more because, the feet resting on the ground, their sensation is clearer. In the Second Assisting Exercise, Gurdjieff had his pupils sense the right foot before adding awareness of the breath, etc. This goes to show how the Preparation was given as a flexible template, and one could improvise. 11. Here Adie speaks both of directing the attention and of tracing it. Both active direction and passive following of the sensation are appropriate—first to start the process, and then to observe it. It is also typical of Adie to speak of a sensation deeper than the skin, in the bones, veins, nerves, and, he would sometimes say, the atoms. 12. Although a good, meaning a serviceable, posture is basic, Adie often came to it only after the sensation had been aroused. This makes taking a conscious posture easier. The balancing of the head on the spine is critical, partly because, as Adie says here, it was his experience that unless the head is upright and even on the neck and shoulders, those areas could not be fully sensed: Perhaps the resulting tensions would make it harder to sense them. The apertures referred to are first of all the throat and the eyes, but also the mouth, internal passages, and the sutures on the top of the head. 13. This is the only occasion I know of when Adie referred to the “chakras.” It is more usual, in Gurdjieff circles, to speak of the “centers.” Adie would have had in mind the seven centers of Gurdjieff’s system, but White states: “The number [of chakras] is variable: certain systems describe a system of nine, twelve, or even twenty-seven cakras.”12 Adie says that while the line of the chakras must be erect so that they may be open, they are not to be “tensely rigid,” but rather “perfectly balanced, like the body of a serpent.” Adie spoke more often of the spine being balanced and without unnecessary tension than of its being erect. 14 and 15. Adie mentions several times that the sensation of each part is included in the exercitant’s consciousness with the sensation already there. 18. Adie does not advise that one should oppose one’s thoughts, but one should be so busy with the exercise that they do not distract. The head is acting to keep the exercise going, and if that is all the thought one has, that is no problem. Adie would often advise that one work at this practice with a thoughtless awareness. 19. Just as important as the adhara or muladhara chakra (the sex center, in Gurdjieff’s terms) is the “pot-shaped,” the tan-dien. Adie, like many in the Gurdjieff groups, was impressed by the writings of Karlfried Graf Dürckheim, who mentioned the concepts of tan-dien and hara (belly).13 So important was he to the Gurdjieff groups that de Salzmann visited him.14 However, Adie could also have been singling out the belly because, as de Salzmann stated, Gurdjieff had “always pointed to this place as the center of gravity of the being, the point where the second body is attached to the first.”15 Adie certainly stated that that area was or could be a center of gravity (whether he thought it was always the center is another question), but I have no other authority for the idea of it as the site of connection of two bodies. I have not come across that statement elsewhere. 20. If a part of the body was tense, Adie would allow one to touch or even slap it in order to better sense it, and so be able to relax it. But more often he preferred, as here, to observe the part and let it take a more relaxed position simply by virtue of the attention releasing the holding.

Once the body has been raised to conscious sensation, one adds observation of the breath, and especially of its impact in the 22. breast. Adie would often speak of two meeting forces: one descending through sutures at the crown of the skull, and the other ascending from the sex organs and pit of the stomach. These forces then mingle, and the result of that blending is often noticeable in the region of the solar plexus. Rarely, as he does here, Adie mentioned the experience of the body of feeling. But the formation of the astral body, which is the body of feeling, is crucial in the Gurdjieff system. 23. As the two energies blend, part of the breath is exhaled, while part of it is retained. 24 and 25. In Gurdjieff’s thought, because the force that attends on the blending of the subtle energies is so fine, it spreads throughout the body almost at once—far more quickly than the sensation, and more quickly than the force that accompanies the breath. Hence Adie speaks of that energy “flying into the rest of the body.” As that energy works in the body, the exercitant’s awareness of the sensation is said to become even stronger. The force of the “mingling of the air is more centrally placed,” partly because it takes place in and around the solar plexus, and partly because it brings with it a sense of presence wherein the consciousness is experienced not so much in the head but along a central line, focused at certain key points. 26. Although Adie is coming to the end of the Preparation, a finer posture is demanded by the effort, including a deeper relaxation of the tongue, mouth, and eyes. 29. The Preparation comes to an experience of “this finer reality.” 30. Adie often spoke of the ability to refrain from acting as being the mark of the master. Here he enjoins the exercitant to refrain from tension, and also “from any doing in the ordinary sense.” 31 and 32. In giving the “I am” thrice three times, Adie follows the more usual custom. It was critical for him to be able to sense the duct, what he often called the “organ pipe,” from the crown of the head down to the base of the sex organs. Adie sometimes improvised by ending the Preparation by sounding the word “Aieioiuoa,” from Beelzebub. In that book, this word is said to be the name of a “fundamental cosmic second-degree law,” or “Remorse.”16 Of it, Gurdjieff says: [T]his cosmic law is, that there proceeds within every arising large and small, when in direct touch with the emanations either of the Sun Absolute itself or of any other sun, what is called “Remorse,” that is a process when every part that has arisen from the results of any one Holy Source of the Sacred Triamazikamno, as it were, “revolts” and “criticizes” the former unbecoming perceptions and the manifestations at the moment.17 I interpret this to mean that when one comes into contact with a higher reality (the emanations of a sun), one sees where one has fallen short, and feels remorse. I once asked Adie why he used this word there, and he replied: “Perhaps it corresponds to the feeling of genuine remorse.” This was connected with how the Preparation was meant to be, quite literally, a Preparation for life in the social domain: Thus, one could go into that life having seen how one has been, regretted it, and changed. Adie also told me that he had always felt that the spelling of the word Aieioiuoa did not quite correspond to the sound he felt it should have. He had amended it in his book. When the French translation was published, it was exactly the same: “Aïeïoïouoa.” That is, there was an additional “o” before the “u,” and it is clear that the three “i”s are each separately and distinctly pronounced.18 Adie also believed that this word, Aïeïoïouoa, was ideal for the “final straightening” of what he called “the organ pipe.” On some occasions, Adie would even pronounce it thrice. Whether he used Aïeïoïouoa or not, Adie would often end the Preparation with a word he pronounced “Ah-mon.” I once asked him what it was, and he replied that it was “Amen.” I asked him why he pronounced it that way, and he responded that he did so because that was how Gurdjieff had pronounced it. Adie had retained Gurdjieff’s pronunciation perhaps because of Gurdjieff’s view that the pronunciation of certain words had a virtue if sounded in a particular way. 35. The Preparation should be given a definite and clean end, rather than being allowed to meander along. On March 30, 1982, Adie said: I should go from it willingly . . . I cannot stay seated in my room, and catch the bus, and get paid for my day’s work at the same time. It doesn’t follow. If I sit for a quarter of an hour that is mine, then I am a person who has sat, who has made an effort. There is an record of effort inside of me that tends to make me more aware of impressions. . . . you could say that every morning’s Preparation is the creation of facts. Creation of reality for the day. I begin to create facts. . . . Then it is not a question of “seems”; the fact is it was. I was there. There’s no doubt about it. And I can remember the state.19

Adie stressed that if one got up from the Preparation in a hurry, returning too quickly to “life” (the social domain), and allowed any random manifestation, it not only accelerated the dissipation of the collected state, but the beneficial effects of the entire Preparation could be lost. Compare, in this respect, Gurdjieff’s words at the close of the Four Ideals Exercise about the need to “rest contained” so that the “results” could be “assimilated.”

17.6 The Purpose of the Preparation The purpose of the Preparation can be stated in many complementary ways. However, perhaps the most important aspect of all is that it is intended to commence a line of activity, employing an esoteric understanding of the Law of Seven, as outlined in Section 2.2. That is, the exercitants strike the note “DO” at the start of their day, and bringing to their mind the likely events of the next sixteen hours or so, make a plan so that their conscious aim can continue to influence the entire day, rather than fading out when the octave comes to one of the lawful intervals. On October 7, 1986, Adie stated: I go from a full night’s sleep to a waking sleep. That is the ordinary course: from sleep to waking sleep. But in that passage is the best time to try and go from sleep to awakening, to really awake, when my consciousness is working. I’ve got a little while there, it’s the best time. It’s not the only time. Any time I remember is a good time. But that time is a special time when I have a little, a little good clean energy left from the night, a certain amount, and in a jiffy it’s going to go there and there, and there, and I’m just an automaton again. If I can take the first ten or fifteen minutes, and really work to become balanced and erect, and breathing, and know it, and with regard to people and my life, acknowledging the gift of my life, and then, as a result of that, trying to think: “Now what can I do today that will not just let all that go by the board?” And you choose a certain number of specific things, or one specific thing, and try and work on that.

In other words, Adie was suggesting that when we are awake we are already on a trajectory from sleep to waking, and that “wave,” as it were, can be used to pass from “waking sleep” to “clear awareness” or “self-consciousness,” the third level of consciousness in Gurdjieff’s schema.20

Henriette Lannes (1899–1980), a personal pupil of Gurdjieff, wrote of the Preparation: During this attempt at calm work, we draw nearer to the possibility of knowing a state of being where it is not a question of doing something but of silently experiencing impressions connected to our internal reality. This state is a state of non-doing.21 [The author’s translation] The notes of Jane Heap (1887–1964), a personal pupil of Gurdjieff, record: In morning when doing preparation my aim is to keep myself separate from all these things: All cares of the day— All tiny things that have to be decided— All little grievances— All that I have to fight that pulls me away from the state that I want to be in—in my preparation. But when I come into life my effort is to be somewhere where I can observe myself at certain moments—without losing all memory of my preparation when there is a struggle.22

We possess few of Gurdjieff’s own words on this, but these, the statements of his students, point to the common source.

17.7 The Details of the Preparation: Time and Posture Vaysse states that the amount of time required in the Preparation is variable, and that each person must decide, but equally, that we need to “promise ourselves” to come to “complete relaxation” at least once or twice a day.23 Demonstrating that the time to be spent depends on the person and the person’s situation, Ripman variously limits the Preparation (which he called the “Collection”) to five minutes, ten minutes, and also thirty minutes, in the latter case to obtain a deeper sense of relaxation.24 George Adie considered that (1) unbending rules were not possible, and (2) one always had to be practical. However, he did state that anything less than seven minutes for the main Preparation of the day was the absolute minimum, and he preferred somewhere between ten and twenty minutes. However, on occasions, much longer might be needed, and the time to be spent quietly afterwards “digesting” the results was to be between ten and twenty minutes itself. This totals twenty to forty minutes. Vaysse provides a rather detailed treatment of the necessary posture, relevantly stating: [F]irst of all, we have to take a position suitable to work of this kind. Any such posture must be stable in itself, comfortable, and without strain of any kind. For us, the one which is probably the best is simply sitting in a straight-backed chair . . . with the lower back supported or not, but with the pelvis well-balanced, the body erect and the head straight, that is, neither too low (which is a sign of inertia and even sleep) nor too high (a sign of running away into the intellect and ideas and even imagination). . . . The knees should be at right angles and the feet close together or only slightly apart, flat on the ground.25

Referring to circuits of energy that move through the body, Vaysse asserts that this posture allows “a free flow everywhere within us for all these circuits of energy.”26 He makes a number of other comments about the correct posture or placing of the various parts of the body, especially the hands, spine, neck, and head, concluding that the ideal posture, if possible, is the “lotus position,” taken on the floor, with slightly raised buttocks, using a cushion of a height appropriate to each individual.27 The late Dr. John Lester, who often visited Gurdjieff between 1946 and 1949, told me that Gurdjieff himself always sat on the floor when showing them the Preparation and various exercises. Rather typical of statements about the posture of the head is Ripman’s advice to “try to balance your head so that it rests lightly on your spine. Feel as though it were being supported by a thread going up from the crown of your head.”28 Touching the “posture,” so to speak, of the eyes, Adie would say that the eyes should not be tightly shut, lest that induce tension not only in the eyes but elsewhere as well. Rather, he would say, the eyelids were to be gently lowered not so much to shut out visual impressions as to turn inside. Conversely, he also paid significant attention to the way in which the eyes were opened at the end of the Preparation. Helen Adie would often advise that when they had been opened, to slowly close them, and then re-open them, and then to close and re-open them. The idea was to make the return from the special state of the Preparation to that of activity a deliberate one, and especially not to reintroduce tensions.

17.8 Willpower and Transformation Adie often recommended, especially in one-on-one meetings, that persons faced with a particular knotty problem should sit alone, quietly, without distractions, and ponder. That meant that they were to collect themselves, as in the Preparation, and then, when they were present and their associations were relatively quiet, to bring the problem before them. The difference between thinking and pondering was, for Adie, that thinking was a one-centered activity: It was the activity of the intellectual brain, and could be done better or worse, with the lower or the higher parts of the intellect. Pondering, on the other hand, was a three-centered work: One would raise sensation to consciousness, then feeling, and then call up the problem, rejecting bad ideas, and awaiting a good quality of thought. A real idea, Adie would say, brings with it a powerful feeling of myself present to it: I remember myself at that moment. Related to this was the development of willpower. The secret here, according to Adie, was again to come

to the collected state, to free oneself from any purely selfish desires, and in that state to consider the occasion for which one needed that willpower. It was axiomatic in Gurdjieff that one could not develop will unless and until one was relatively free from negative emotion, and had a need for it. Perhaps one could say that one had to have a good reason for requiring willpower; otherwise, persons with negative emotions and willpower would be a danger to everyone else and to themselves. Adie gave as an example how he had to have a meeting with his father, who had been refusing to speak with him for a while. He made a Preparation beforehand. Then, when he had collected himself, he came to his aim in attending the meeting, and how he had to allow his parents some satisfaction. When the confrontation came, he was ready. It was not so much that he had prepared what to say as that he had prepared his being-state (i.e., the state he would be in). He heard his father out, chose one small point to dispute so that his father did not imagine that he was remaining calm because he was indifferent, and the hoped-for reconciliation was achieved. As noted, one was to end the Preparation by making a plan for the day. For example, one might make a plan that one would come to oneself at 9 a.m., noon, 3 p.m., 6 p.m., and 9 p.m., and internally or out loud make an affirmation such as “I am,” trying to sense one’s presence. In addition, one might know that one was to meet a certain individual at 11 a.m. for an important meeting, and would plan to retain some sensation in, say, the right foot during that meeting. The idea was that these appointments and this small task would mean that one would not be taken by events as customary: The practice would make a connection with the morning work. However, in addition, Adie recommended that a short Preparation be made before going to bed. On March 30, 1982, he said: I should do some Preparation at night, not a long, long one, but something to give myself a chance of being there in the morning, to have some continuity. . . . It’s a question of stretching our total experience if we can. Am I prepared to try and make continuity with my life: night, morning? Otherwise what am I trying for? I am trying to be a sort of god, permanent I, with all sorts of powers yet I can barely stand the thought of connecting the night and the morning.29

There is an idea, related to concepts in Beelzebub called “Djartklom,”30 that by separately and simultaneously raising to consciousness each of the three main faculties (intellect, feelings, and sensation), they can be combined in the course of the Preparation so that one can exercise a truly human willpower during the day. I have set out the details elsewhere, but my conclusion is that by remaining within calmly the crucible of one’s atmosphere, the three internal forces can be separated out and their operation consciously directed. . . . This also has the corollary that the negative force, the resistance, is an integral part of the entire operation: it is not to be excluded but rather to be employed in the transformation of forces. The resistance is as essential to the Preparation as it is to a carpenter when hammering in a nail, for the resistance provides a definite object for the application of the positive force, and the entering in of the neutralizing. The three forces are always present in us, on this theory, but only by not identifying with the negative or denying force, can it be seen with any objectivity.31

The Preparation became the pillar of Gurdjieff’s practical methods.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31.

Gurdjieff (2017) 151. Similar advice was given throughout 1943: Gurdjieff (2017) 66–67, 230, and 256. Gurdjieff (2017) 317–318. Gurdjieff (2009) 147. Gurdjieff (2009) 147. Ripman (2009) v–viii. Cited in Azize (2017) 42. Hulme (1997) 71–72. Oral communication from a source who wishes to remain anonymous. Ouspensky (1949) 60–61. Azize (2017) 50. Azize (2017) 44. White (1996) 367, n.95. Adie often referred to Dürckheim (1962). http://www.gurdjiefflegacy.org/40articles/realityofbeing.htm, accessed June 26, 2017, but the fact was reasonably well known in the Gurdjieff groups. De Salzmann (2010) 139–140. This is surprising: If Gurdjieff mentioned it so often, why is it not found in records either of his writings or of what he said? It is, however, stated in the sayings of Master Okada found at the back of Dürckheim (1956) 195, “Tanden ist der Schrien des Göttlichen,” translated in (1962) 176. Gurdjieff (1950) 140–141. Gurdjieff (1950) 141. Gurdjieff (1983) 140. Unpublished transcript. Ouspensky (1949) 141–142. Lannes (2003) 17. Heap (1994) 21. Vaysse (1979) 162–163 and 165–166. Ripman (1999) 68, 81–82. Vaysse (1979) 163. Vaysse (1979) 164. Vaysse (1979) 163–164. Ripman (1999) 68. Unpublished transcript. Gurdjieff (1950) 140. Azize (2017) 56–57.

18 Gurdjieff’s Last Exercises

18.1 Introduction We have now examined Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation in the context of his teaching and his life. In doing so, I have placed him both within the current known as “Western esotericism” and within the spiritual traditions of Athonite monasticism. The evidence shows that when Gurdjieff slowly began introducing those practices in or after 1930, he had already worked out a coherent and integrated system of ideas and practices. The contemplative exercises fit into his system, even extending it in somewhat paradoxical directions (the Four Ideals and “Lord Have Mercy” Exercises). In particular, Gurdjieff’s idea of man as a station for the transformation of energies, schematically set out in the Food Diagram, provides a basis for the understanding of all of his exercises, especially when it is taken with his cosmology, anthropology, and psychological ideas (see especially Section 2.7). This chapter will commence with Gurdjieff’s “last exercises.” There are two “last exercises” known to me: the final exercises he gave to Solange Claustres and to the Adies respectively. They naturally lead into my summary and conclusions.

18.2 The Last Exercise Given to Claustres This exercise is not an example of Transformed-contemplation; that is, it is what I have defined as a “discipline” rather than a contemplative exercise (see Section 0.2), but it shows the place of contemplation in Gurdjieff’s system. Claustres states that she wrote this exercise out at Gurdjieff’s request, and that both de Salzmann and he confirmed its fidelity to his instruction. Claustres states: The principle of this last exercise was the basis for a way of conducting oneself in all aspects of one’s life, guiding it always. This final exercise marked the end of the series [of exercises]. Briefly described, the exercise was to divide one’s life into four parts: 1. 2. 3. 4.

to earn one’s living for oneself and one’s family. to allow the mechanicalness of one’s functions in life. to eat, sleep, and perform vital functions in a healthy and correct manner. to work towards developing an inner consciousness of self, and little by little, to enable this consciousness to penetrate the other three parts. That is to say: to become conscious and present to oneself in all the moments of one’s life.1

That is, one is to discharge one’s duty in life, gradually doing so more and more consciously. The final sentence, italicized in the original, is significant not only because it clearly summarizes the whole, but because it also reminds one of the biblical injunction of the very first page of The Way of a Pilgrim: “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17).2 The pilgrim’s desire to live by this exhortation led him to the Jesus Prayer. What is meant in Claustres’ point 4 is to “work towards developing an inner consciousness of self [by coming to a three-centered sense of ‘I am’ in the special state], and little by little [with the help of a daily program], to enable this consciousness [of my own presence] to penetrate the other three parts.”

18.3 The Last Exercise Given to the Adies George Adie stated in groups that the last exercise Gurdjieff gave them was given to his wife, Helen, and that Gurdjieff instructed her to telephone Adie to pass it on to him. That exercise was this: to affirm “I” with all my feeling centered in my solar plexus, and then “am” with all my sensation centered in my spine. And that was all. It had been integrated into the Preparation but was now given as an exercise by itself. This must have been after September 1, 1949, for it is not on the list made up on that day. This exercise is almost the same as the First Assisting Exercise (see Section 8.2), but it adds the sensation centered in the spine. That is, the reverberation of the feeling in the solar plexus alternates now with that of the sensation. Once more, this exercise does not have to be undertaken in a contemplative manner, but it could. It was made part of many exercises, not least the Four Ideals Exercise and the Preparation. It is not coincidental, perhaps, that both of these “final” exercises were so simple. At the end, Gurdjieff brought all the rich and diverse content of his system back to basics, relating the inner to the outer lives. This accords with some recollections of Gurdjieff in his last years. Hands recalls that several times Gurdjieff gave an “I Am” exercise,3 of which this is perhaps the most striking example: One night Mr. Gurdjieff was talking about self-awareness—how, in whatever we were doing, we should pause from time to time to say “I,” to say “I” not with the head alone but with one’s whole mass. He lifted up his hand and said, “It is like this, even my thumbnail say “I”.” The extraordinary thing was that you could almost hear it doing so.4

To the end of their lives, the Adies taught the Preparation and exercises as they had had them from Gurdjieff. For the reasons presented in Section 9.4, the “I Am” exercise seems to me to have been adapted from the Jesus Prayer. If I am correct, and if this was the last exercise he gave, then it is fitting that Gurdjieff’s last exercise should have been the simplest, and the closest to the point from which he began. I will close this section with one thought, prompted by the reflection that George Adie was taught exercises that Claustres did not know of, and vice versa. We have had to consider a rather wide range of sources, even to analyze those exercises that hailed from Gurdjieff and de Salzmann’s books, and transcripts of the Adies. Gurdjieff certainly did not leave all the relevant information in one place. It seems that he gave exercises like Conscious Stealing and the Four Ideals to Bennett, but not to very many others. To be more precise, it seems to me that the general nature of the instruction was fairly widely circulated, but the technical details concerning attracting the higher substances, then ingesting and assimilating them, were passed on to very few. This seems to me to be deliberate. It is as if his book Meeting with Remarkable Men was a template for what his pupils were to do, meeting with one another. If I am correct, then Gurdjieff was effectively obliging them to communicate and exchange in order to complete their own education. His contemplative exercises were to be a discovery, or else were to disappear—and there is no doubt that some of them have indeed disappeared. We now come to the summary and conclusion: What were Gurdjieff’s contemplative exercises? That can be considered under three heads: What was their form and purpose? What was their source? What was their nature? Finally, I ask the question: What does the product tells us of the maker? That is, what do the exercises tell us of Gurdjieff?

18.4 The Form and Purpose of Gurdjieff’s Contemplative Exercises We have now considered many diverse exercises, beginning from my distinction among tasks, disciplines, and Transformed-contemplation (see Section 0.2). By “Transformed-contemplation,” the phrase in Herald of Coming Good, and “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation,” a term introduced in Beelzebub, I understood those exercises that are practiced with the informed intention of all the exercitant’s relevant faculties, to assimilate, transform, and coat in the exercitant’s body what Gurdjieff calls “the sacred cosmic substances required for the coating of the highest-being-body, which sacred being-part of theirs . . . they call soul.”5 Although Gurdjieff did not always articulate the last element, the crystallization of the soul, he said sufficient to show that it was the ultimate goal. More frequently, however, he spoke of the need to come to one’s own presence, a collected state, what he called the sense of “I am.” These exercises did not always need to be attempted in a secluded manner: They could, like the Soil Preparing and the First Assisting Exercises, be worked at in the social domain of life (e.g., walking down the street). But some of his exercises had to be done in quiet withdrawal, the first of these being the 1930 exercise for aim and energy (see Section 10.2). The Genuine Being Duty Exercise from Beelzebub would also be best done in a “special state.” Further, Gurdjieff came to require more and more of his exercises to be done sitting and without distractions. While in Beelzebub he had said that Aiëssirittoorassniancontemplation was necessary to coat the higher-being-bodies, it was only in the Four Ideals Exercise from 1948 that he told George Adie that at the conclusion of the exercise he was to remain for ten or fifteen minutes, within his atmosphere, to “assimilate in calmness the results deposited in you, which otherwise would be lost in vain” (see Section 13.2). I have outlined my view of the historical dimension of Gurdjieff’s initial reluctance to use, and finally his embrace of, contemplation-like exercises (see Section 10.8). Thematically, Gurdjieff coined them on a wide, if not a large, scale, extemporizing to meet the needs of his students. But they were always unfolded from a limited series of principles, which I would typify as: 1. The need to consciously sense one’s body in a relaxed state; 2. while having some awareness of one’s feeling (chiefly a feeling of presence); 3. with all this being directed by an undistracted intellect.

If this was maintained, three happy results could flow: 4. a unified calm in one’s common presence; 5. higher hydrogens could be received and digested; 6. and the higher being bodies coated, which allow the higher and the lower centers to work together in unison.

Eventually, this would achieve the grand aim of: 7. Exercitants’ achieving their own real “I,” with powers of consciousness, will, expressive of their own individuality, and able to hear and support their conscience.

If the results of Transformed-contemplation were so desirable, why did Gurdjieff not introduce it earlier into his system?I suggest that the deepest answer is that contemplation represents a method taken from the monasteries and so was in tensions with Gurdjieff’s Fourth Way precisely because contemplation takes one out of the daily life of the social domain, and he wanted his pupils engaged with their ordinary activities. To that extent, although Gurdjieff’s principles offer a deep explanation of what contemplation is and why it can work, it is, nonetheless, inconsistent with Gurdjieff’s ideal system. This was not arbitrary:

To Gurdjieff, the monastery left a person weak and unable to deal with the exigencies of life.6 To put it another way: Contemplation represents, for Gurdjieff, a compromise. It was a compromise he wanted to avoid, but finally concluded he could not. That he began using inner exercises in his movements or “Sacred Dances” only in 19377 supports my conjecture that he avoided introducing contemplation-like exercises. Further, I suggest that Gurdjieff took the view that the related phenomena of hypnotism, suggestibility, imagination, self-deception, and meditation were double-edged swords that were perilous but also had constructive possibilities.8 None of Gurdjieff’s techniques at all lent themselves to trance (hence Ouspensky’s explicit disavowal of trances as “higher sleep”). Further, the student was not only to become more alert in and through the exercises, but to explicitly make a link between the pupil’s state at the end of the exercise or Preparation and moments chosen in advance during the day. For Gurdjieff, contemplation would never be the sole method; rather, it would be an aid to making the other methods more effective. Gurdjieff would give exercises to be done alone and undisturbed: He sometimes specifically counseled exercitants not to let anyone disturb them (e.g., Section 11.7). Such conditions were necessary at the beginning so that one could come to something under optimal conditions and then test oneself in harder ones (see Section 11.5). Yet, it remained true that an exercise that could only be attempted when one was quiet was, as he said on April 20, 1944, “less useful.”9 On the same occasion, he told a person who was practicing two exercises—one in quiet conditions, the other in the social domain—to reverse the conditions in which they were done.10 By this he meant, I suggest, that it more useful if one could summon a directing presence and attention in what he called “life,” but that practically, one would have to practice in both calm and more active conditions. It also seems to me more than probable that Gurdjieff’s exercises were developed under the influence of Orage, who elaborated the practical exercises Gurdjieff employed at the Prieuré into the range of mental and visual exercises that he published in 1930. Gurdjieff was angry at Orage’s publication, and within fifteen years he was teaching a series of exercises that surpassed Orage’s work. But that corpus had been developed from Gurdjieff’s methods. It may even have been written and published with Gurdjieff’s permission: In Sections 1.5, 5.2, and 5.3, I set out my reasons for this view of the signal importance of Orage to Gurdjieff’s Transformed-contemplation. In speaking of what Gurdjieff intended to achieve, one must bear in mind that he often told his pupils not to work for results. On January 18, 1944, Gurdjieff told someone who could not do the exercises because he had been intoxicated by the results he had attained: “You cannot expect results yet. You can only do the exercise. To be able to play tunes takes a long time. . . . Think only of the future, when your playing may acquire a different quality and you may become a pianist.”11 Yet, when Gurdjieff had given an exercise, but no one had mentioned it, and it “led to no results,” this was bad, and he repeated it.12 So the injunction not to work for results probably means not to insist on definite results within a given time—that is, not to attempt to force the inner processes. However, if one did not obtain some results at some point, there would be no point in undertaking the exercise at all. Hence, on December 7, 1941, Gurdjieff instructed someone to do the exercises as a service or an obligation, not for results: They, he said, would come later.13 This is analogous to Gurdjieff’s statement about groups, which he had often said were necessary: You take it all too theoretically . . . There is no particular benefit in the existence of groups in themselves, and there is no particular merit in belonging to groups. The benefit or usefulness of groups is determined by their results.14 [My italics]

This brings me to my last suggestion: It could well be that Gurdjieff simply did not know what to do in the 1930s, once he had lost Orage’s services. Gurdjieff had brought so much, and yet, as he conceded, little seemed to work. Applying his methods in the world seemed too hard for people; perhaps it was indeed necessary to seclude them from the world in what he called a “special state,” at least for a time, so that the inner development he promoted could take place. If they could not row in rough water, let them start in smooth. It may be that Gurdjieff found it hard to adapt methods learned in Eastern monasteries to Western urban life, but he did not cease trying. By the time of his death, he felt that he had achieved his goal.

18.5 Gurdjieff’s Sources for His Contemplative Exercises The chief reason to discuss Gurdjieff’s sources for his Transformed-contemplation is because they may shed a light on his background, his career, his aim, and his hopes. If I am correct in my thesis about the origin of his contemplative and internal exercises in Chapter 9, then he not only studied the hesychast tradition of Christianity but returned to it to supply a perceived lacuna in his system. I have dealt with the methodological issues in a forthcoming study.15 There is no need to repeat them here. Gurdjieff wanted to make people struggle to understand him. Here, he quite arguably succeeded beyond his dreams. One of the major difficulties was that there was, I suggest, a tension between his fundamental mysticism and his desire to present if not a secular teaching, at least one that would be palatable to the secularizing world of twentieth-century Europe. The more Gurdjieff used Transformed-contemplation, the more overtly religious he became. I contend that this is entirely understandable: The source of these exercises was Mount Athos. But this development was at variance with the earlier teaching, and it has caused confusion ever since. I

will take but one example of such misconceptions, because it is recent, scholarly, and found in a work that is otherwise authoritative, even magisterial. I refer to Sedgwick’s Western Sufism: From the Abbasids to the New Age. Together with some splendid insights, Sedgwick’s approach to Gurdjieff is, pace Sedgwick, flawed. First, there are some simple errors of fact: Gurdjieff did not establish himself “in Russian Theosophical and Spiritualist circles between 1899 and 1903,” and neither does the text he references, Gurdjieff’s Herald, say so.16 The earliest possible date for Gurdjieff’s appearance in Russia as a teacher was 1911 (see Section 1.2). To say that “the so-called ‘Gurdjieff teaching’ is probably at least as much Ouspensky’s as Gurdjieff’s”17 misreads Ouspensky; for example, how Gurdjieff’s teaching of selfremembering was a “miracle” that meant that now “work on oneself was not only empty words but a real fact full of significance thanks to which psychology becomes an exact and at the same time a practical science.”18 Examples of how Gurdjieff corrected and often astonished Ouspensky could be much multiplied.19 But perhaps the most radical misunderstanding of all is the one due to the tension between Gurdjieff’s mystic heart and secular front. Sedgwick has the notion that only consciousness, not the soul, is important to Gurdjieff. He states: “By the second half of the twentieth century, ‘the expansion of consciousness’ would be the new standard, and the union of the soul with the One would become marginal. Gurdjieff was pioneer in this transformation.”20 This would not even be true of Gurdjieff’s teaching in Russia, but is far more evidently untrue to the later dispensation. Beelzebub, which Sedgwick has read, is replete with references to the soul and the spirit, the Body Kesdjan, and the higher-being-bodies. What Gurdjieff did was to bring a teaching according to which thinking of the expansion of consciousness as anything but another aspect of union with the One (a dialogical unity in Gurdjieff) was a false dichotomy (see Sections 2.2 and 8.3).21 As was stated at the outset, Gurdjieff intended to be difficult to understand. It is not easy to sift through the evidence, but after we have done so, certain conclusions can be briefly stated. First, I do not allege that all of Gurdjieff’s system was taken from the hesychasts, only that he adapted the Jesus Prayer and the use of beads that was associated with that Prayer for his internal exercises. I have mentioned not only the similarities but also the differences between Gurdjieff’s ideas and Hesychasm. I have noted that Gurdjieff could have read the material in question in either Greek or Russian (or both). I have shown that the material was popular in the Russia of Gurdjieff’s day through both translations of the Philokalia and through the resoundingly popular Russian book The Way of a Pilgrim. We have seen that both the Philokalia and The Way were known to Ouspensky, and probably to Gurdjieff, and that Gurdjieff referred to Mount Athos as the home of an “I Am” Exercise, and as possessing knowledge of the movement of effort in one center to another center (from intellect to moving center to emotional center), a technique he used in his own exercises. The other body of literature that I have suggested Gurdjieff read, the Neoplatonic, was available to him in Greek, and we saw two passages in Beelzebub that are so similar to ideas in Iamblichus, and the Dying Daily Exercise, that it is barely conceivable that Gurdjieff did not know Iamblichus (and Julian’s report of Iamblichus) either directly or indirectly. There is reason to accept that Gurdjieff traveled in the Near and Middle East, in Central Asia, and across to Tibet and India, and also visited Mount Athos. But he almost certainly also studied medicine at the University of Athens, which was established in 1837, and he retained his textbooks. His possible sources were extensive. He doubtless acquired something from most places he visited. Especially as he grew older, an Eastern Orthodox religiosity started to come out in him. His interpretation of the Orthodox liturgy so that the Trisagion expresses the Ray of Creation strongly suggests, even demands, a close connection between the “ancient knowledge” he was teaching and an esoteric Orthodox tradition (see Sections 14.1 and 14.6). Ultimately, I suggest, his Transformed-contemplation was a means of bridging the understanding of the monasteries of Mount Athos and the conditions of contemporary European life. A very different picture of Gurdjieff has emerged from any known to me, at least in the public arena. The Gurdjieff of these pages had many faults, and miscalculated often. He found some very interesting ideas in Asia and Mount Athos, and seems to have ripened or developed a rather remarkable being during his travels. But he was bringing Eastern monastic techniques from a range of religious cultures, chiefly Orthodox Christian, Sufi, and Tibetan Buddhist, probably in that order, to very different urban and secular cultures. I have contended that Gurdjieff was basically a mystic, but the Europe and the United States of his mature career were far more secular than the Orient. A certain friction necessarily existed between his mystic aspirations and his need to speak to a secular humanity. He forswore the methods of the monastery but found that he had to compromise because humanity was too fast asleep to awaken, even with the shock tactics he employed. He had the merit of trying to adapt his methods as needed. It seems to me that not only did he become more religious as he aged, but that he placed more emphasis on his own ideas and techniques, and less on the teachings he had somehow and somewhere learned, such as the Ray of Creation. He did not disown them, but he had not found them as useful as he had thought they would be, so he had to change. Responding to his review of his position after the car accident of 1924, he resolved to write himself, having been disappointed in Ouspensky. He worked with Orage, but just when their collaboration seemed about to be crowned with success, a competed book and flourishing groups in the United States, Gurdjieff sabotaged his own endeavors. It may have been a mistake, pure and simple. But Orage did stimulate Gurdjieff to develop his contemplation-like exercises. These began from December 1930, it would seem, and featured the conscious ingestion of air, and coming to one’s own presence: the sense, feeling, and knowledge of “I am.” Traces of this development were found in Herald of

Coming Good and in Beelzebub, which obscurely mentioned “Transformed-contemplation” and “Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation,” respectively. Neither phrase has entered mainstream vocabulary. He elaborated these exercises through the 1930s, and by the time of his Paris groups during World War II, was almost a virtuoso at improvising original exercises, while generally but not always keeping to a few simple principles (see the more detailed summary in Section 10.8). The principles were implicitly included in the difficult third and fifth lectures of Life Is Real. They were brought to their final culture and expressed in artistic form in the exercises he taught de Salzmann and the Adies, not least the daily Preparation with its program, the Four Ideals, the “Lord Have Mercy,” the Color Spectrum, and the Clear Impressions Exercises.

18.6 Gurdjieff and Transformed-Contemplation To attempt to summarize it in one phrase, the purpose of Gurdjieff’s contemplative techniques was to help the exercitant approach reality. For this reason, the overview of his ideas and methods in Chapter 1 commenced with reality. That approach must, for Gurdjieff, combine the inner and the outer lives. In an undated transcript, Gurdjieff states: I will give you a sacred secret. You remember Beelzebub—there are two currents, two rivers. You have to cross from one to the other; you are like fish whose natural element is water and who are obliged to live in the air. You must now learn to live in both currents at once. There is the habitual current which is ordinary life in which you live, and then in you must exist the other current, the second current, which is your interior life. Up to now you have had contact with yourself only when you were alone, quiet, now you must learn with others. When you are with a person, remain in your own current, your interior current.22

Gurdjieff’s contemplation-like exercises were designed so that the outer life (life in the social domain) and the inner lives should be harmonized by the development of one’s individual reality, with consciousness, conscience, and will. Then, persons could project an aim and attain to it—that is, they could “do.” The longer Gurdjieff went, the more he came to believe that quiet time, undistracted, with the three main brains working together for an aim, what he called “a special state,” was necessary. Gurdjieff was a mystic. In the final analysis, Transformed-contemplation is, in Gurdjieff’s terms, I suggest, a method for mobilizing one’s willpower to change one’s own state in accordance with a wish for consciousness and conscience. To use more traditional terms, it is a contemplative method to align oneself with a spiritual aim, temporarily at first, but with the aim of achieving a relative permanence. It was a method for developing one’s own individual “I.” That does not mean that it was selfish; of course, there is something for oneself in it—for Gurdjieff it was the merest hypocrisy to pretend to absolute altruism. Even religious believers hope to achieve salvation, nirvana, fana’, or some other goal for themselves. But it turns on the question of “I.” As Gurdjieff said, behind real “I” lies God. The same, then, must be true for his system.

Notes 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21.

Claustres (2005) 91–92. Anonymous (1930) 1. Hands (1991) 41, 68, and 75. Hands (1991) 38. The original has the word “I” in bold lettering. Gurdjieff (1950) 569, with added italics. Gurdjieff (2017) 196. Van Dullemen (2014) 133. I am indebted to Carole Cusack for this suggestion. Gurdjieff (2009) 126. Gurdjieff (2009) 127. Gurdjieff (2009) 118. Gurdjieff (2009) 155. Gurdjieff (2009) 4. Ouspensky (1949) 232. Azize (forthcoming). Sedgwick (2016) 176. Sedgwick (2016) 177. Ouspensky (1949) 121. To take but seven examples, see Ouspensky (1949) 8, 18, 20, 28, 98, 100–101, and 250–251. Sedgwick (2016) 178. Sedgwick makes one rather odd mistake, stating that Ouspensky said “Gurdjieff would say one thing one day, and then say quite the opposite the next day.” He cites In Search, p. 36. Here is what Ouspensky actually says (1949) 36; it needs no further comment: “In all these stories about himself a great deal was contradictory and hardly credible. . . . He might say one thing today and something altogether different tomorrow, and yet, somehow, he could never be accused of contradictions; one had to understand and connect everything together.” 22. Gurdjieff (2009) 102.

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(1998) Shadows of Heaven: Gurdjieff and Toomer, Samuel Weiser, York Beach, ME (2001) Gurdjieff and Orage: Brothers in Elysium, Samuel Weiser, York Beach, ME (2004) “Gurdjieff and Prince Ozay,” http://www.gurdjieff-bibliography.com/Current/l_b_taylor_ozay3_2004-07-04.pdf accessed July 7, 2017 (2007a) The Philosophy of G.I. Gurdjieff, Eureka Editions, Utrecht (2007b) Gurdjieff’s Invention of America, Eureka Editions, Utrecht (2008) G.I. Gurdjieff: A New Life, Eureka Editions, Utrecht (2010) Gurdjieff in the Public Eye, Eureka Editions, Utrecht (2012) Real Worlds of G.I. Gurdjieff, Eureka Editions, Utrecht (2014) Gurdjieff’s Worlds of Words, Eureka Editions, Utrecht Tchechovitch, Tchesslav (2003) Tu L’Aimeras, Éditions Charles Antoni L’Originel, Paris Tchekhovitch, Tcheslaw (2006) Gurdjieff: A Master in Life, Dolmen Meadow Editions, Toronto Tracol, Henri (1994) The Taste for Things that Are True, Element, Shaftesbury, UK Trompf, Garry W. (2010) “On the Origins of the Western Meditation Movement,” in The Pathway to the Centre—Purity and the Mind, edited by Edward F. Crangle, Dhammachai International Research Institution, Sydney, 1–30 Trouillard, Jean (1955) La purification plotinienne, Presses Universitaires, Paris van Dullemen, Wim (2014) Gurdjieff’s Movements: The Pattern of All and Everything (no publisher or place of publication shown) van Egmond, Daniël (1998) “Western Esoteric Schools in the Late Nineteenth and Early Twentieth Centuries,” in Gnosis and Hermeticism from Antiquity to Modern Times, edited by Roelof can den Broek and Wouter J. Hanegraaff, State University of New York Press, Albany, 311–346 Vaysse, Jean (1979) Toward Awakening, Harper & Row, San Francisco Waldberg, Michel (1981) Gurdjieff: An Approach to His Ideas, Arkana, London Walker, Kenneth (1963) The Making of Man, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London Walker, Kenneth and Eric B. Strauss (1954) Sexual Disorders in the Male, 4th edition, Cassell, London (first edition 1939) Ware, Kallistos (1992) “Ways of Prayer and Contemplation: Eastern” in Christian Spirituality Origins to the Twelfth Century, edited by Bernard McGinn and John Meyendorff, Crossroad, New York (1996) “St. Athanasios the Athonite: Traditionalist or Innovator?” in Mount Athos and Byzantine Monasticism, edited by Anthony Bryer and Mary Cunningham, Variorum (Ashgate), Aldershot, UK, 3–16 (2000) The Inner Kingdom, St. Vladimir’s Seminary, Crestwood, NY Webb, James (1980) The Harmonious Circle: An Exploration of the Lives and Work of G.I. Gurdjieff, P.D. Ouspensky and Others, Thames and Hudson, London Welch, Louise (1982) Orage with Gurdjieff in America, Routledge & Kegan Paul, Boston (2003) Guide and Index to G.I. Gurdjieff’s Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson, 2nd edition, Traditional Studies Press, Toronto Wellbeloved, Sophia (2002) Gurdjieff, Astrology & Beelzebub’s Tales, 2nd revised edition, Solar Bound, New Paltz, NY (first edition privately printed) (2003) Gurdjieff: The Key Concepts, Routledge, London and New York White, David Gordon (1996) The Alchemical Body: Siddha Traditions in Medieval India, University of Chicago, Chicago Williams, Paul (2009) Mahāyāna Buddhism: The Doctrinal Foundations, 2nd edition, Routledge, London (first edition 1989) Wilson, Colin (1993) The Strange Life of P.D. Ouspensky, Aquarian/Thorsons, London Zahler, Leah (2009) Study and Practices of Meditation: Tibetan Interpretations of the Concentrations & Formless Absorptions, Snow Lion, Ithaca, NY Zuber, René (1980) Who Are You, Monsieur Gurdjieff? Routledge & Kegan Paul, London

Index

For the benefit of digital users, indexed terms that span two pages (e.g., 52–53) may, on occasion, appear on only one of those pages. Aboulker, Dr., 206 Absolute, 12, 55, 57–58, 59–60, 64, 75–76, 86, 153, 181, 250, 286 Absolute Unitary Being, 12 “absorptions,” 108, 111 accumulator, 232 active force, 266 active life, 8, 9 active mentation, 107 The Active Mind, 117 active reasoning, 107, 204 “Active Reasoning” Exercise, 204–5 adhara lotus, 281, 285 Adie, George, xvi–xvii, 9, 14, 16, 17, 43–44, 52, 110, 111, 130–31, 134, 151, 161, 162, 187, 188, 189, 190, 192, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 216, 217, 229, 230, 231, 233, 234, 235, 238–39, 240, 244–45, 246, 247–49, 253, 254–55, 257, 258, 261, 263, 264, 265, 266– 67, 268, 272–73, 278, 279, 280, 283–86, 287–88, 289, 290–91, 295, 296, 297, 298, 303 Adie, George Jr, 44 Adie, Helen, xvi–xvii, 17, 151, 189, 197, 199, 216, 217, 229, 230, 231, 248–49, 255, 257, 272, 273, 276–79, 283, 284, 290, 295, 296, 297, 303 Adie, Kenneth, 233 Affirmations, 15, 154, 207, 243 Afghanistan, 234 “Against the Gnostics,” 84 Aïeïoïouoa, 287 Aiëskhaldan, 181 Aiëssirittoorassnian-contemplation, 3, 7, 10, 127, 128, 129, 131, 134, 183–84, 297–98, 303 Aim, 5, 7, 21, 30–31, 44, 52, 64, 66, 71, 92, 93, 127, 129, 133, 142, 144, 145, 153–54, 172, 173, 176, 177, 179, 183–84, 200, 201–2, 206–7, 224, 231, 235, 243, 247, 248, 257, 258, 268, 277, 279, 288, 290–91, 298, 300–1, 304 Aim and Decision Exercise, 206–7 Aim and Energy Exercise, 172–73, 183–84 alchemists, 4 alchemy, 4, 66 Alexandropol, 23 alpha rhythm, 11 altered state of consciousness, 12 Amis, Robin, 74 Anderson, Margaret, 30, 36 Armenia, 23, 24, 25, 146 Armenian language, 23, 24, 25–26, 29, 38–39 assimilation, 128, 129, 130, 153, 202, 237 assisting exercises, 7, 100, 131, 149–55, 157–68, 180, 196, 218, 249, 268, 284, 296, 298 astral body, 69, 219, 239, 286 astrology, 4 St Athanasius (c.925/30–c.1001), 88 Athens, 26–27, 302 Atis-The Bloodless Sacrifice, 34 atmosphere, 177, 194, 195, 218, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 237, 239, 248, 253–54, 276–77, 291–92, 298 Atmosphere Exercise, 194–96, 218, 257–32, 284 attention, 6–7, 9, 10, 12, 21, 65, 67, 85, 90, 93, 101, 104–5, 108, 110, 111, 115, 122, 123, 131, 133, 141, 142, 144, 146, 152, 154, 157–58, 159–60, 161–63, 165, 166 Aurobindo, 29 Babylon, 85–86 Beaumont, Winifred, 22–23 Beelzebub, 133 Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson, 7, 10, 17, 18, 24, 25, 38–39, 43, 55, 56, 61, 69, 70, 71, 74, 75, 85–86, 109, 119–20, 121, 127–34, 137, 138–16, 154, 162, 164, 165, 175, 177, 181, 183–84, 222–23, 234, 236, 240, 241, 243, 244, 257, 271, 286, 291, 297–98, 301, 302, 303–4 1931 edition, 38–39, 56, 119–20, 127, 128, 129–30, 132–33, 175–76, 183–84, 241 Beinecke Rare Manuscripts Library, 178–79 being, real, 52, 84 being-obligolnian-strivings, 54, 118 Benares, 237 Benham, Michael, 23, 27–28 Bennett, John Godolphin, 25–26, 28, 29, 30–31, 33–34, 69, 102–3, 106, 139, 182–83, 188, 231, 234, 236, 237, 297 Benson, Martin (d. 1971), 110–11, 152, 177, 184, 235, 239, 244, 247 Bestul, Thomas, 9–10 Betrachtung, 10 biofeedback principle, 11 Blake, A.G.E., 236 Blavatsky, Helena P. (1831–1891), 13–14, 16, 54 blind motif, 249 blood, 61, 86, 128, 179, 180, 181, 258, 265, 268 body, 6–7, 12, 25–26, 51, 54, 61–62, 84, 87, 93–94, 100, 103, 108, 109, 110, 118, 122, 129, 131, 134, 138–39, 143, 152, 179, 180, 184, 191–93, 195, 198–99, 200, 205, 208, 216–19, 231, 232, 233, 234, 237–38, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258, 263, 264, 266, 268, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278, 280, 281–82, 285, 286, 289–90, 297–98, See also astral body; higherbeing-body; Kesdjan body

Bogdan, Henrik, 13 Book of Degrees, 88–89 Boston Globe, 26 Boston Post, 38 Bowyer, E.C., 32, 37 brain waves, 11 breath, breathing, breathing exercises, 6–7, 15, 61, 68–69, 71, 92–94, 102, 106, 107–8, 123–24, 128, 130, 131, 134, 152, 159, 160, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166–68, 177, 179–82, 198, 200, 202–3, 219, 232, 237, 239–40, 243, 248–49, 255, 256, 257–58, 276, 278, 279, 281–82, 283, 284, 285, 286, 288 bricoleur, 16 Brook, Peter (1925–), 102 Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, 247 Brotherhoods, 25–26, 27, 154, 182–83, 201–2 Brunton, Paul (1898–1981), 105 Buddha, 74, 101, 231, 232, 234, 237 Buddhism, 3, 4, 10, 12, 16, 26, 27, 72, 73, 92–93, 101, 108, 281, 302 Butkovsky-Hewitt, Anna, 35 Cade, C. Maxwell, 11, 12 Callistus and Ignatius, 166–67 The Cambridge Companion to Christian Mysticism, 9–10 Cambyses, 85–86 Carnegie Hall, 38, 42 centers feeling center, 6–7, 51, 56, 62, 63–64, 67, 69, 72, 81–82, 118, 121–22, 141, 142, 143, 152, 177, 179, 180, 184, 189, 191, 200, 206, 264, 273, 278, 279–80, 281–82, 283, 284, 286, 291, 296, 298, 303 (see also emotion; feeling) higher centers, 63, 68, 69, 81–83, 84, 85, 87–88, 93, 106, 123, 144, 235, 268–69, 298 higher emotional center, 34, 63, 69, 81–83 higher intellectual center, 81–83 instinctive center, 61, 62–63, 87, 88–89, 93, 121–22, 123, 144, 268 intellectual center, 61–62, 63–64, 67, 81–82, 93, 103, 108, 121–22, 144, 267, 276 moving center, 61–62, 63–64, 67, 83, 87, 93–94, 103, 120, 121–22, 123, 141, 143, 301–2 sex center, 54, 62–63, 82–83, 87, 123 Central Asia, 27, 104, 171, 182–83, 250, 302 Chesterton, G.K. (1874–1936), 37 Chitral, 27 Christ, 74, 90–92, 165, 167–68, 229, 231–32, 234, 237, 238–39 Christian contemplative traditions, 3, 7, 8, 88–94, 105, 109, 165–68, 300–2 Christian Orthodox, 3, 4, 31, 71–72, 73–74, 88–94, 100, 106, 165–68, 177, 219–20, 241, 249, 250, 302 Christianity, 3, 4, 8, 10, 13, 31, 71–72, 73–74, 87–88, 205, 235, 243, 250, 300–1 Christmas, 73–74, 238 “The Circles,” 102 clairvoyants, 3–4, 253–54 Claustres, Solange (1920–2015), 4, 14–15, 43, 102, 272, 279, 295–96, 297 Clear Impressions Exercise, 16, 161, 225, 253–59, 303 Coates, John, 37 coating, 6–7, 54, 71, 87, 128, 129, 131, 179, 181, 184, 297–98 cognized intention, 128, 129, 130–31 collected state, 130–31, 194, 195, 196, 217–18, 233, 234, 240, 257–58, 268, 279, 287, 290–91, 297–98 Color Spectrum Exercise, 16, 137, 138, 225, 253–258, 303 Compromise Exercise, 158, 162–63 concentration, 102, 104–5, 107–8, 118, 123–24, 190, 191–92, 193, 231, 233 Conge, Michel (1912–1984), 72–73 conscience, 44, 70, 87, 143, 298, 304 conscious labor, 71, 87, 131, 179, 181, 223 conscious shock, 68, 162, 163, 266 Conscious Stealing, 177, 236, 237, 297 consciousness, 10, 12, 22–23, 30, 63, 65–66, 68, 70, 71, 72, 82–83, 92, 100, 118, 124, 132, 133, 142, 146, 150, 151, 157–58, 161, 162, 184, 192, 193, 196, 199, 205, 218, 243, 245, 247, 255, 257, 258, 263, 265, 266, 267, 268–69, 271, 279–80, 282, 285, 286, 288, 290, 291, 296, 298, 301, 304 objective consciousness, 82–83, 86, 123 self-consciousness, 72, 82–83, 86, 288, 296 waking consciousness, 82–83 considering, 64, 65, 202, 204 Constantinople, 30–31, 35–36, 52, 100, 104, 242 Constantinople Notes, 35, 75 contemplation, 3, 4, 6, 7–10, 17, 81, 84, 85, 90, 104, 105, 106, 109, 123–24, 128, 130–31, 134, 183, 187–88, 234, 295, 298, 299 defined, 6–7, 8, 9–10 contemplation-like exercises, 8, 43, 106–7, 131, 178, 183–84, 195, 197, 203, 205, 249, 298, 299, 303, 304 contemplative life, 8 contextualist, 11–13, 81–82 “The Control of Temper,” 117 Cornelius, George, 7 cosmic substances, 6–7, 60–61, 64, 69, 128–29, 130, 297–98 cosmic laws, 54, 55, 56, 58, 66, 70, 75, 87, 164. See also Heptaparaparshinokh; Law of Seven; Law of Three; Triamazikamno cosmology, 51, 59–61, 69, 70, 295 Counting Exercise, 91–92, 93, 102, 116–17, 119, 141, 142, 145–46, 166, 188–89, 200, 207, 249 Cousins, Ewert, 11–12 Coxhead, Nona, 11, 12 Crane, Hart (1899–1932), 38 Creator, 55, 56, 59, 61, 70, 71, 75, 132, 133, 134, 175 Crowley, Aleister (1875–1947), 16, 54, 149 crystallize, crystallization, 7, 54, 57, 58, 59, 60, 63, 64, 68, 69, 176, 218, 237, 244, 297–98 curiosity, 21, 52, 63, 192 Daily News, 32 Damascus, 72

d’Aquili, Eugene, 12 Davy, Marie-Madeleine (1903–1998), 44 daydreaming, 61–62, 64, 65 Dean Borsh, 71–72 Denikin’s Volunteer Army, 30–31 depression, 65–66 Deputy Steward, 278 dervishes, 4–5, 27, 72 “The Descent of the Soul into Bodies,” 84 de Val, Nicolas, 209 dhyanas, 108 Diaghilev, Sergei (1872–1929), 38 Diagram of Everything Living, 57–58, 59, 244 diaphragm, 281 Dix, Gregory, 241 Djamdjampal, 129, 162, 183–84 Djameechoonatra, 129, 162, 183–84 Djartklom, 291 Dobrotolubiye, 89, 92, 250 doing, 64, 66, 207, 283, 286, 288 Dooling, Dorothea, 5 Dukes, Paul (1889–1967), 99 Dürckheim, Karlfried Graf (1896–1988), 224, 285 duty, 71, 296 “Dying Daily” (daily review), 85–86, 118–19, 133, 172, 183, 302 Easter, 73–74 Eckhart, Meister (c.1260–c.1328), 16 van Egmond, Daniël, 13–14 “Ego” exercise, 88, 91–92, 99–100, 111, 154, 168, 249–50 Egypt, Egyptian, 3–4, 23, 26, 27, 85–86 Eifring, Halvor, 81 Eliot, T.S. (1888–1965), 57–58, 61 emanations, 86, 171–72, 181, 203, 231, 233, 234, 235, 237, 238, 242, 248, 284, 286–87 emotion, 56, 61–62, 63–64, 65–67, 68, 69, 70, 82–83, 87, 93, 103–4, 117, 119, 121–22, 123, 129, 143, 144, 182, 190, 198–99, 267, 301–2 energy, 15, 22–23, 36, 56, 58, 63, 68, 69, 70, 94, 100, 110, 133, 145, 150, 172–73, 180, 183–84, 190–96, 202–3, 206, 216, 217, 219, 222–23, 237, 238, 239, 243, 244, 254, 276, 278, 282, 286, 288, 290, 295, 298 England, 30–31, 33, 35, 36–38, 41, 106 English language, 21, 28–29, 31, 38–39, 67, 92, 104–5, 127, 161–62, 175, 179, 221, 222, 224, 233 Enneads, 84–85, 86, 87 Enneagram, 58–59, 87 envelope, 280, 283, 284 esoteric Christianity, 3, 74 esotericism, 13–14, 27–33, 138–39, 152 essence (as opposed to “personality”), 63–64, 71, 176 essentialist, 10–12 Essentuki, 52, 100, 102, 173 Etherokrilno, 58, 64 evolution, 63–64, 66, 68, 69, 73, 75, 123, 140, 204, 219 exercises for “Active Reasoning,” 204–5 concerning Aim and Decision, 206–7 concerning Aim and Energy, 172–73, 183–84 with Arms Outstretched, 192–93 Atmosphere Exercise, 194–96, 218, 257–32, 284 for the Body, 191–93 Clear Impressions, 16, 161, 225, 303 Color Spectrum, 16, 137, 138, 225, 253–59, 303 Compromise, 158, 162–63 Conscious Stealing, 177, 236, 237, 297 with counting, 91–92, 93, 102, 116–17, 119, 141, 142, 145–46, 166, 188–89, 200, 207, 249 “Dying Daily” (daily review), 85–86, 118–19, 133, 172, 183, 302 for Feeling, 217–18 Filling Up, 199–200 Finger (see Soil Preparing) First Assisting, 100, 131, 149–55, 162, 167, 196, 296, 298 Four Ideals, 7, 9, 16, 69, 111, 130–31, 152, 168, 184, 189, 195, 197, 198, 201–2, 218, 229–40, 244, 247–48, 257, 287, 295, 296, 297, 298, 303 Genuine Being Duty, 127, 132–34, 145, 157, 162, 164, 172, 173, 182, 183–84, 205, 271, 298 “I Am,” 9, 100, 104, 105, 131, 191–92, 193, 195, 196–99, 217–18, 296–97, 301–2 “I am,” Breathing, and External Considering, 202–4 “I,” “Me,” 218–20 “Lord Have Mercy,” 218, 241–50, 295 Make Strong! Not Easy Thing, 131, 133, 163, 178–82, 184 for Relaxation, 100–1, 104, 190–91, 199 Second Assisting, 154, 157–68, 218, 261, 284 for Sensing, 100–2, 110, 143, 146, 191–92 Soil Preparing, 137–47, 151, 154–55, 164, 168, 184, 200, 207, 248–49, 298 Stop, 99, 101, 102–4 for Three Centers, 122, 123, 127, 143, 154, 193, 199 Two Parts to Air, 173–77 Web, 200–2 Faivre, 13–14 fakir, 4–5, 51–52, 129 fana’, 304

feeling, 6–7, 51, 56, 62, 63–64, 67, 69, 70, 72, 81–82, 101, 102, 107, 108, 118, 121–22, 123, 127, 130, 131, 138, 141–43, 146, 151– 52, 154–55, 159, 162–63, 167, 173, 174, 176, 177, 179, 180, 182, 184, 189, 191, 192–93, 194, 195, 197, 200, 204, 206, 207, 217– 18, 222, 233, 234, 237, 238, 243, 248, 253, 264, 267, 273–74, 275, 277, 278, 279–80, 281–82, 283, 284, 286, 287, 290, 291, 296, 298, 303. See also emotion; feeling center Feeling Exercise, 217–18 Ferapontoff, Boris (1891–1930), 35, 51–52, 75, 100, 104 Filling Up Exercise, 217–18 Fine Arts Theatre, 38 finger exercise, see Soil Preparing First Assisting Exercise, 100, 131, 149–55, 162, 167, 196, 296, 298 Fontainebleau, 35, 38 food, 57, 58, 60–61, 68–54, 70, 122, 129, 144, 160, 162, 163–64, 177, 180–81, 205, 266, 295 Food Diagram, 60–61, 68, 162, 163, 164, 180–81, 266, 295 food factory, 68–69, 70, 163–64 formless realm, 108 formatory apparatus, 61–62, 75–76, 87, 93–94, 157–58, 173, 267 formatory thinking, 65 Four Ideals Exercise, 7, 9, 16, 69, 111, 130–31, 152, 168, 184, 189, 195, 197, 198, 201–2, 218, 229–40, 244, 247–48, 257, 287, 295, 296, 297, 298, 303 four ways, 4, 51–52 fourth dimension, 34 fourth way, 4–5, 7, 51–52, 92, 109, 129, 134, 175, 181, 202–3, 215–16, 217, 299 The Fourth Way, 144 Fragments of an Unknown Teaching, 51 France, 35–36, 37, 38, 44, 52, 110 Genuine Being Duty Exercise, 127, 132–34, 145, 157, 162, 164, 172, 173, 182, 183–84, 205, 271, 298 Georgia, 35–36, 52, 104 Germany, 35–36 “Glimpses of the Truth,” 99, 167 Gnosis, 13 Gobi Desert, 8 God, 54–61, 72–75, 85, 87, 88, 90, 110, 111, 140, 153, 165, 167–68, 172, 176, 198, 218, 220–21, 235, 236–37, 241, 242, 243, 244, 245, 247, 250, 271–72, 291, 304 Good Samaritan, 174 Gordon, Elizabeth, 25, 26–27 Gospel, 73–74, 206, 207 Great Lavra, 88 Greek language, 23, 26, 29, 53, 83–84, 89–91, 175, 301–2 Groups, 8, 9, 14–15, 16, 26–27, 30, 31, 32, 34, 35, 37, 38–39, 40–41, 42–44, 73, 92, 102–3, 107, 110, 116, 117–18, 120, 127, 133, 134, 138, 139, 140, 141, 149, 153–54, 158, 160, 173–74, 178–79, 181, 184, 187–209, 215, 216, 220–21, 222, 223, 224, 225, 230, 234, 247, 248, 253, 255, 257, 267, 268, 271, 272–73, 276–77, 285, 296, 300, 302–3 Grunwald, François, 73–74 Gumri, 23 Gurdjieff and the Women of the Rope, 178 Gurdjieff: Making a New World, 234 Gurdjieff, George Ivanovitch, (more significant references only) car accidents, 31–32, 38–39, 73–74, 139–40, 182–83, 302–3 on Mysticism, 81–83 and Neoplatonism, 83–88 and Orage, 22–23, 30–31, 33, 37–43, 115, 117, 118, 119, 120, 122 and Ouspensky, 28–34, 92–94, 99–111 and de Salzmann, 42–44, 220–24 sources of his exercises, 83–94, 118, 134, 145–47, 154–55, 165–68, 249–50, 295–304 studied medicine, 26–27, 302 Gurdjieff, Vasily, 23 Gurdjieff Institute (Institut Gurdjieff), 197 Gurdjieff’s grandmother, Sophia Padji, 25 Gurdjieff’s Early Talks, 35 hallucination, 66 Hammond, Honour, 33 hanbledzoin, 181 Hands, Rina, 43, 177, 296 Hanegraaff, Wouter, 13–14 hara, 285 Hartmann, Olga de, 22, 35, 40, 74, 172 Hartmann, Thomas de, 15, 16, 35, 36, 39, 40, 71–72, 73–74, 102, 110 Harvard Crimson, 26 Hassein, 132, 175 Hausherr, Irénée, 88–89 healer, healing, 3–4, 22–23, 25 Heap, Jane (1887–1964), 4, 36, 40, 43, 117, 119, 237, 288 Hebraic, 3–4 Henshaw, John, 219 Heptaparaparshinokh, 56. See also Law of Seven Herald of Coming Good, 17, 35, 38–39, 52, 88, 107–8, 119–24, 127, 130, 182–84, 297–98, 301, 303 Heropass, 55 Hesychasm, 3, 88, 168, 301–2 hesychast, 3, 7, 31, 88, 89, 109, 167, 300–2 higher-being-body, 6–7, 51, 68, 128, 220, 297–98 higher centers, 63, 68, 69, 81–83, 84, 85, 87–88, 93, 106, 123, 144, 235, 268–69, 298 higher emotional center, 34, 63, 69, 81–83 higher hydrogens, 68–69, 123, 130, 163–64, 184, 200, 218, 247, 248, 266, 276, 278, 298 higher intellectual center, 81–83 Hindu, 3–4, 11, 13, 16, 219 Hindu, Buddhist and Daoist Meditation, 81

HIS ENDLESSNESS, 55, 61, 75, 175 Hollywood, Amy, 4 Holy Ghost, 57, 73–74, 241 householders, 73 “How to Think,” 117 Howarth, Dushka, 223 Hulme, Kathryn, 30, 74, 119, 130, 146–47, 162–63, 173, 177, 178, 188, 235–36, 277 Hunter, Robert, 34 hydrogen, 61, 68–69, 123, 130, 163–64, 184, 200, 218, 247, 248, 266, 276, 278, 298 hypnosis, 22–23, 72 I, see “permanent I,” 66, 197, 291, real I, 74, 149, 150, 151, 153–54, 164, 176–77, 218, 220, 278 “I Am,” 9, 100, 104, 105, 131, 191–92, 193, 195, 196–99, 217–18, 296–97, 301–2 “I am,” Breathing, and External Considering Exercise, 202–4 “I,” “Me” Exercise, 218–20 Iamblichus (c.245–325), 83–84, 85–86, 87, 119, 302 ideal, 73, 154, 189, 231–32, 233–34, 235, 237, 238 identification, 64, 65, 66, 92, 144, 162, 172, 173, 198, 207, 215–16, 245, 263, 267, 291–92 idiots, 43 imagination, 64, 65–66, 105–6, 110, 117, 150, 162–63, 178, 180, 182, 190, 195, 201–2, 235, 237, 241, 245, 278, 289, 299 impressions, 7–8, 62, 63, 67, 68, 82–83, 110, 117, 118, 121–23, 124, 130, 159, 160, 163, 164, 181, 246, 276, 280–81, 283, 287, 288, 290 In Search of the Miraculous, 15, 17, 28–29, 30, 32, 33, 35, 99, 130–31, 162, 215 India, 3, 23, 27, 31, 71–72, 105, 106, 218, 219–20, 232, 302 individuality, 53, 54, 67–68, 140, 142, 157, 191, 205, 284, 298 Institute for the Harmonious Development of Man, 28, 36, 38, 139 intention, 92, 107, 123, 131, 133, 143, 144, 145, 151–52, 158, 159, 160, 161, 189, 190, 198–99, 202, 223, 235–36, 246–47, 280, 297.–98, See also cognized intention; intentional contemplativeness; intentional suffering intentional contemplativeness, 128, 130–31, 134 intentional suffering, 71, 87, 176 involution, 64, 66, 75 Ireland, John, 230 Islam, 3, 4, 16, 71–72 Jerusalem, 232, 237 Jesus Prayer, 7, 88, 89, 90–92, 94, 106, 145–46, 154, 167–68, 219–20, 249, 250, 296, 297, 301–2 Judaism, 3, 4, 72 Julian, 85–86, 302 Kadloubovsky, Eugenie, 89, 92 Kars, 23 Katz, David, 13–14 Katz, Steven T., 10–12, 13, 108, 153 Kesdjan body, 69, 128, 301. See also astral body; higher-being-body King, C. Daly (1895–1963), 42 Kirstein, Lincoln (1907–1996), 36, 38 Kobori, Roshi (1918–1992), 224 Kozlov, Mikhail, 90–91 Krausmüller, Dirk, 88 Krishnamurti, Jiddu (1895–1986), 224 kundabuffer, 176 Lachman, Gary, 34 Lama, 231–32, 234 Lamaism, 3, 234 Lamm, Julia, 12–13 Lannes, Henriette (1899–1980), 224, 288 “The Law of Opposite Aims and Results,” 30–31 “Law of Otherwise,” 30–31 Law of Seven, 56–59, 130, 288 Law of Three, 56–59, 243, 244, 284 lectio divina, 10 Leeds, 37 Lester, Dr. John (1919–1999), 40, 237, 271, 272, 290 Liber Graduum, 88–89 Library of Congress, 187 Life Is Real only then, when ‘I Am’, see Third Series Lipsey, Roger, 43–44, 72, 121 London, 30–31, 32, 37, 43, 63, 187, 224 “Lord Have Mercy,” 168, 218, 241–50, 295, 303 Lord’s Prayer, 72, 93, 99 Louth, Andrew, 9–10 love, 70, 90, 145, 154, 174, 176, 177, 187–88, 198, 204, 222–23, 236 lying, 65 Macarius of Corinth (1731–1805), 89 Macquarie Dictionary, 6 Macrocosmos, 59, 60 Magee, Glenn Alexander, 13–14 magic, 5, 14, 16, 164, 204, 235–36 magick, 16 Mansfield, Katherine (1888–1923), 36, 38 March, Louise (1900–1987), 40, 110, 238–39 Martfotai, 54 Masonic Lodge, 27–28 Master (as a state of being), 205, 278

Mecca, 232, 237 Medina, 232 meditation, 3, 9–10, 17, 81, 104, 106, 107–9, 110, 123–24, 183–84, 224, 225, 299 Meditation in Judaism, Christianity and Islam, 81 Meetings with Remarkable Men (book), 18, 21, 23, 127, 144, 195, 207 Meetings with Remarkable Men (film), 102 megalocosmos, 53, 55, 59, 60 Mesopotamia, 3 Messalians, 88–89 Messiah, 4 Metropolitan Opera House, 38 microcosmos, 59 Mitrinovic, Dmitri (1887–1953), 37 Monaco, 35 monastery, 4–5, 51–52, 89, 107, 108, 109, 129, 134, 145, 178, 182–83, 205, 299, 302–3 Chinese monastery, 26 Orthodox monasteries, 88–89, 90–91, 93, 100, 183, 219, 250, 295, 300, 302 Sarmoung Monastery, 27, 51–52, 138–39, 182–83 Monastic Rule, 89 monk, 4–5, 10, 51–52, 63, 88–92, 94, 106–8, 109, 167, 183 Mont St Michel, 74 Moore, James, 138, 224 Moscow, 28, 29, 34, 35, 94 Most Holy Sun Absolute, 55, 57–58, 86, 181, 286 “A Most Profitable Discourse on Sobriety and the Guarding of the Heart,” 89–90 Mount Athos, 3, 88–92, 100, 109, 154, 168, 183, 219, 249–50 Movements, 4, 7–8, 13–14, 16, 22–23, 36, 38, 40, 43, 71–72, 75–76, 101–3, 104, 181, 219, 220–21, 239, 242, 299 “The Circles,” 102 Muhammad, 231–32, 234 muladhara chakra, 285 Munson, Gorham (1896–1969), 21, 22–23, 36, 39, 74, 117 muscles, 101, 103, 116, 117, 143, 172, 173, 191, 195, 206, 258 music, 15, 16, 22–23, 38, 42, 43, 56, 71–72, 75–76, 102, 276, 279 mystic, mysticism, 9–13, 16, 33, 44, 51, 63, 75, 81–94, 153, 235, 245, 249, 301, 302–3, 304 nadīs, 219 negative emotions, 62, 65–66, 68, 69, 87, 117, 268–69, 290–91 Négrier, Patrick, 94 Neoplatonism, 4, 83–88, 119, 302 Nestorius (Patriarch of Constantinople (428–431), 242 neutralizing force, 57, 243, 291–92 New Age, 4 The New Age, 28–29, 30–31, 37 A New Model of the Universe, 29, 31, 92 New Work, 220, 222–25, 272–73 New York, 38–39, 40, 41, 42, 104, 117, 127, 130, 158, 172, 173–74, 238 New York Gurdjieff Foundation, 5, 131, 239 Newberg, Andrew B., 12–13 Nicephorus the Solitary (13th century), 3, 8, 89–92, 154, 166–68, 249–50 Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain (?1748–1809), 89 Nicoll, Maurice (1884–1953), 72, 74, 75 Nietzsche, Friedrich (1844–1900), 37 Nikephoros the Monk, see Nicephorus the Solitary nirvana, 12, 51, 61, 304 “Notes of Meetings with Mme Salzmann about Jane’s notes,” 40 Nott, Charles Stanley (1887–1978), 110, 120, 121, 173–74 nous, 84, 86 Nyland, Willem (1890–1975), 279 objective exercises, 9, 107–8, 188–89, 196 obligolnian strivings, 54, 118 occult, 3–4, 5, 13–14, 54, 81–82 octave, 56, 57, 58–59, 130, 163–64, 183–84, 257, 288. See also Law of Seven Of the Life Aligned, 239–40 “On Difficulties about the Soul: I,” 84–85, 86 On Sobriety, 8, 89–90, 165 On the Pythagorean Life, 85–86 On Watchfulness and the Guarding of the Heart, 89–90 Orage, Alfred Richard (1873–1934), 3, 17, 22–23, 26–27, 28–29, 30–31, 32, 33, 35, 36, 37–43, 52, 53, 59, 74, 105, 106, 115–19, 120, 122, 127, 138, 140, 149, 150, 158, 162–63, 171, 173–74, 183–84, 207, 299–300, 302–3 Orage, Jessie, 41 “The Oragean Version,” 42 Ouspensky, P.D. (1878–1947), 3, 12, 15, 16, 17, 21–45, 51–76, 91, 92–94, 99–111, 117, 120–22, 123, 129, 142, 144, 146, 177, 182, 183, 188, 215, 223, 224, 247, 250, 258, 272–73, 299, 301–3 Ouspensky, Sophia, 40, 92, 182 “The Outer and Inner World of Man,” 137, 138 Owen, Alex, 149 Palmer, G.E.H., 89 Parabola, 34 passive force, 57, 58, 241, 243, 244, 266, 284, 291–92 P.D. Ouspensky: Pioneer of the Fourth Way, 34 Pentland, Lord (Henry John Sinclair), (1907–1984), 239 Perkin, Helen, see Adie, Helen Persia, 3–4, 27, 69, 85–86, 131 Peters, Fritz (1913–1979), 22–23, 26 Philokalia, 12–168, 301–2

“philological question,” 5, 161–62 philosophy, 3–4, 5, 10, 11, 12, 37, 84, 85, 106, 107–8, 160, 161–62, 165, 180, 183 Phoenicia, 85–86 Pike, Nelson, 13 Plotinus (c.204–270), 16, 83–86, 87 Pogossian, 144–45 pomnie sebya, 67 pondering, 105, 107, 290 pores of the skin, 128, 130 Porphyry (c.234–305), 85, 87 posture, 61–62, 101, 103–4, 143, 166, 179, 182, 216, 245, 262, 264, 266, 267, 274, 277, 280–81, 284, 286, 289–90 Potala, 237 Pound, Ezra (1885–1972), 37 Powers, John, 108 practice of the presence of God, 245, 247 praxis, 8 prayer, 10, 24, 36, 71–76, 88–89, 91–93, 101, 106, 110–11, 129, 166, 168, 171–72, 177, 180–81, 189, 204, 208, 220–21, 231, 235, 237, 238–39, 241–51, 296. See also Jesus Prayer; Lord’s Prayer; Prayer of the Heart Prayer of the Heart, 3, 8, 83, 88–90, 92, 154–55, 165, 166–68, 219–20 Preparation (daily), 3, 16, 56, 83, 101, 104, 105, 110, 180, 182, 189, 193, 195, 202–3, 209, 216, 217, 224, 245, 246, 248, 265, 266, 271–92, 296, 297, 299, 303 priest, 22, 73–74, 90–91 Prieuré, 32, 35, 36, 37, 38, 42–43, 52, 73–74, 102–3, 115–16, 120, 122, 130, 142, 182–83, 184, 187–88, 195, 204, 207, 235, 299– 300 Prince Nijeradze, 25–26, 203 Prince Ozay, 99 Proclus (philosopher, 412–485), 87 Proclus (Patriarch of Constantinople, 434–446), 242 program (daily), 188, 191, 271, 296, 303 Prospectus (of the Institute), 104–5, 107–8, 115, 124, 183–84, 188–89 Pseudo-Dionysius, 87–88 Psychological Exercises, 40, 115–19, 183 psychology, 12, 32–33, 51, 61, 62, 69, 70 Psychology (journal), 117 The Psychology of Man’s Possible Evolution, 144 Pythagoras (c.570–495BCE), 26, 85–86 Questions and Answers along the Way, 272–73 radiations, 254, 280, 284 Ravindra, Ravi, 43–44, 218, 223 Rawlinson, Andrew, 222 ray of creation, 59–61, 75, 187–88, 218, 250, 302–3 Read, Herbert (1893–1968), 37 The Reality of Being, 200, 215–25, 237, 242–44, 261 reason, 4, 53, 59–60, 107, 108, 132, 145, 150, 204–5, 241 recurrence, 34 Rego, Beatrice, 239 relaxation, 100–1, 104, 173, 180, 189, 190–91, 194, 195, 199, 200, 206, 242, 247, 253, 254, 257, 274, 275, 277, 279, 286, 289 relaxation exercises, 100–1, 104, 190–91, 199 religion, 4–5, 11, 13–14, 33, 54, 71–76, 205, 207, 219, 236, 244 reverberation, 151–52, 167, 191, 198–99, 248, 264, 296 Ripman, Hugh Brockwill (d. 1980), 272–73, 289, 290 Robinson, Carol, 40, 117 Roerich, Nikolai (1874–1947), 28 the Rope, 30, 42–43, 145, 146, 174, 178, 184, 207 de Ropp, Robert S. (1913–1987), 106 rosary, 91, 93, 146–47, 154–55, 166 Rothermere, Lady, 30–31 Rue Daru, 73–74 Russia, 17, 23, 26, 27–29, 30–31, 32, 33–34, 35–36, 38, 42–43, 56, 57–58, 59, 67, 70, 75, 89, 90–91, 99, 104, 119, 130, 150, 158, 161, 171, 180–81, 182–83, 188, 195, 202–3, 250, 258, 301–2 Russian language, 23, 26, 28–29, 38–39, 67, 89–91, 301–2 Saccas, Ammonius, 16 sacraments, 4 Sacred Dances, see Movements Sacred Individuals, 3, 236–37 Sacred Influences, 236 salvation, 51, 304 Salzmann, Alexander, 40, 43–44 Salzmann, Jeanne de (1889–1990), 5, 17, 33, 40–44, 57, 102, 137, 138, 154, 168, 172, 187, 188, 197, 200, 215–25, 235, 237, 238, 239, 242, 243, 244, 247, 249–50, 261, 272–73, 285, 295, 297, 303 Sarmoung Brotherhood, 27 Sarmoung Monastery, 27, 51–52, 138–39, 182–83 Saurat, Denis (1890–1958), 4, 12 Schaeffer, Pierre (1910–1995), 219 school, 3, 13–14, 27, 32–33, 39, 88–89, 92–93, 101, 105 scriptures, 4, 11–12 secluded conditions, 7–8, 15, 109, 145, 153–54, 177, 178, 183–84, 197 Second Assisting Exercise, 154, 157–68, 218, 261, 284 Sedgwick, Mark, 301 Seekers of Truth, 27 Segal, William (1904–2000), 223, 224 self-deception, 150, 180, 201–2, 299 self-hypnosis, 72 self-observation, 67, 153–54, 190

self-perfection, 54, 158 self-remembering, 4, 15, 66–68, 71, 72, 82–83, 85, 105, 108, 111, 118, 139–40, 143, 184, 188, 191–92, 195, 197, 203, 204, 208, 247, 263, 265, 266, 272, 279, 283, 290, 301. See also pomnie sebya self-suggestion, 15–16, 72 sensation, 100, 101, 102, 104, 109, 110, 131, 140, 141, 142–43, 146, 163, 166, 176, 179, 184, 189, 191–93, 195, 196, 197, 199, 200, 201, 206–7, 216, 217–18, 219, 222–23, 242, 243, 245–46, 247, 248, 255, 256, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266, 268, 272, 274–76, 277–78, 279–90, 291, 296 sex organs, 232, 237–38, 244, 255, 256, 258, 262, 275, 281, 285, 286 Shamanist, 27 Shandarovsky, 99 Shaw, G.B. (1856–195), 37 Shorter Oxford Dictionary, 6 Sinclair, Frank R., 102–3, 131, 239–40 Skeat, Walter W. (1835–1912), 6 sleep, 10, 12, 53, 63–68, 82–83, 85, 86, 91, 93–94, 105, 118, 119, 175, 176, 187, 198, 205, 235, 271, 279, 288, 289, 296, 299, 302– 3 “sly man,” 51 Smith, Margaret, 11 Social Credit, 39 social domain, life in the, 7–8, 15–16, 43, 51–52, 104, 115, 130, 133, 145, 178, 182–83, 184, 187–88, 196, 203, 215, 216, 241, 261, 279, 287, 298, 299, 304 Soil Preparing Exercise, 137–47, 151, 154–55, 164, 168, 184, 200, 207, 248–49, 298 Solano, Solita (1888–1975), 10, 26, 30, 106–7, 129, 187 solar plexus, 62, 141, 143, 151, 152, 159–60, 163–64, 165, 167, 184, 192–93, 197, 217, 219, 233, 244, 255, 256, 258, 262, 275, 281–82, 283, 285, 286, 296 Soloviev, 25 Sorsky, Nil (c.1433–1508), 89 soul, 6–7, 11, 13–14, 24, 42, 51, 54, 61, 64, 68, 69, 84–86, 87, 90, 128, 131, 133, 138–39, 181, 240, 297–98, 301 spirit, 34, 54, 64, 91, 138–39, 301 spiritual traditions, 4, 31, 69, 295 Spiritualists, 3–4, 108 St. Petersburg, 28–29, 35, 89 Staveley, Annie-Lou (1906–1996), 14–15, 43, 119, 272 Steiner, Rudolf (1861–1925), 16 Steward, 278 Stop Exercise, 99, 101, 102–4 The Strange Life of Ivan Osokin, 28–29 von Stuckrad, Kocku, 13–14 subconscious, 150, 151, 177, 205, 254 subjective exercises, 9, 107–8, 188–89, 196, 208, 229, 231 suffering, 66, 71, 129, 171–72, 174, 176, 241. See also intentional suffering Sufi, 11, 16, 27, 301, 302 sun, sunrise, 57, 59, 66, 86, 87–88, 132, 133, 235, 286.–87, See also Most Holy Sun Absolute Superman, 37 Switzerland, 35, 40 The Symbolism of the Tarot, 28–29 St Symeon the New Theologian, 91 Talks with a Devil, 28–29 tan-dien, 281, 285 tantra, 81 tarot, 4, 28–29 Tartar, 23 Taylor, Edith, 40 Taylor, Paul Beekman, 40, 42–43, 67, 99, 139 Tchechovitch, Tcheslav, 24, 25, 35, 43–44, 73–74, 115, 221–22 Tchekhovitch, Tcheslaw, see Tchechovitch, Tcheslav tension, 101, 103 Tertium Organum, 28–29, 30–31 Theological Virtues, 174 Theophan the Recluse (d. 1894), 89, 90–91 theōria, 8 Theosophy, 3–4, 5, 28–29, 33, 54, 301 Thérèse of Lisieux (1873–1897), 236 Third Series, 7, 17, 18, 28, 38–39, 41, 127, 129, 131, 133, 134, 137–47, 149–55, 157–63, 171, 172, 180, 184, 231, 234, 249, 253– 54, 257, 303 Thring, Med (Meredith) (1916–2006), 188 Tibet, 24, 26–27, 71–72, 108, 115, 172, 232, 234, 302 Tiflis, 43, 215 Tolstoy, Leo (1828–1910), 34 Toomer, Jean (1894–1967), 36, 40, 178–79 Toumelin, Yahne le, 191 Toward Awakening, 272–73 Tracol, Henri (1909–1997), 197 trance, 10, 22–23, 105, 106–7, 108–9, 162, 299 Transformed-contemplation, 3, 6, 7–8, 16 Triamazikamno, 56, 57, 241, 286. See also Law of Three Trisagion, 302 Trogoautoegocrat, 57–58, 70, 87, 175 Trompf, Garry W., 81, 219–20 Turkestan, 3, 27, 28 Turkey, 30–31, 35–36 Two Parts to Air Exercise, 173–77 Umayyad Mosque, 72 Undiscovered Country, 177, 178, 235–36 unio mystica, 12

United States of America, 36, 37–42, 121, 171 unnecessary talking, 65 Vaysse, Jean (c. 1917–1975), 289, 290 Velichkovsky, Paissy (d. 1794), 89 vibrations, 56–57, 151–52, 217, 231, 232, 233, 243, 253–54, 257, 264, 283 Walker, Kenneth (1882–1966), 16, 34, 63, 110 Ware, Kallistos, 88–89, 92 Way of a Pilgrim, 31, 88–89, 90–92, 93, 94 Web Exercise, 200–2 Webb, James, 30–31, 34, 37, 116, 119–20, 121, 138 Welch, Louise (1905–1999), 42 Wellbeloved, Sophia, 224 Wells, H.G. (1866–1946), 37 Western Esotericism, 3, 13–14, 295 Western Occultism, 3–4 Western Sufism: From the Abbasids to the New Age, 301 White, David Gordon, 285 will-power, 290–92 Work, 4, 8, 15, 21, 31, 36, 43, 51–52, 64, 65, 66, 72, 143, 146, 178, 183, 215, 220–21, 222, 223, 225 World Brotherhood, 27, 182–83 Writing from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart, 89–90 Yale Ouspensky collection, 33, 34 Yale University Beinecke Rare Manuscripts Library, 178–79 Yelov, 115, 119 yoga, 11, 51–52, 81, 92 yogi, 4–5, 27, 29, 51, 105, 106, 129 zazen, 224, 225 Zen, 16, 223, 224, 281 Zuber, René, 43