How Do We Know

15. The Unfolding Life

15

THE UNFOLDING LIFE

Height is our aim, not because of any man-made doctrine about height and ascension, but because the universal processes everywhere indicate height as the aim of all unfolding life. Yet in the pursuit of this end, there is no escape from the natural process of growth.

—NEWTON DILLAWAY

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-82), known as the Sage of Concord, began school at the age of two and became famous for his independent thinking. In December, 1975, I read Newton Dillaway’s book, The Gospel of Emerson.

A bit of background may help account for my favorable review of this remarkable book. Sometime earlier, an English friend, one of the most scholarly and brilliant men of my acquaintance, startled me with, “Leonard, you are the most religious person I have ever known.” Nonplused, indeed, for I had always thought of myself as rather far down the line in this phase of life. I did not know what he was driving at. Later my friend asked who were my favorite philosophers. I gave him several names beginning with Emerson. His response, “I now know why I think of you as so religious.”

No subject has had more reflection than religion and none has produced a greater diversity of conclusions. They range all the way from the findings of Himalayan yogis to Augustine’s Confessions. And the employers have ranged from the lowly fisherman of Galilee to the greatest minds of all time, from small fry to big shots, from so-called commoners to the acclaimed elite, from the likes of me to popes. And among them all I have never come upon one more spiritual and religious than the notable and quotable Ralph Waldo Emerson. In my 27 books I have quoted him far more than any other. I quote Emerson and others the better to express myself.

Now to my point. The thoughts of this earthly hero of mine did not fit into any of our numerous orthodoxies. Religion to him was a growing, evolutionary, evolving phase of the individual human spirit. He rejected any and all “this-is-it” propositions. Here is an abbreviation of this phase of his gospel:

Thou shalt not profess that which thou dost not believe.

Thou shalt not heed the voice of men when it agrees not with the voice of God in thine own soul.

Thou shalt study and obey the laws of the Universe, and they will be thy fellow servants.

Nature shall be to thee as a symbol. The life of the soul in constant union with the Infinite shall be for thee the only real existence.

Teach men that each generation begins the world afresh, in perfect freedom; that the present is not the prisoner of the past, but that today holds captive all the yesterdays, to judge, accept, to reject their teachings, as they are shown by its own morning sun.

Emerson kept a Journal during his adult life—recording all of his ideas and ideals. Having kept my own Journal for more than 29 years, never missing a day—now nearing 2,500,000 words—I know the value of such a discipline, namely, the capture of ideas as they flash into mind. Ideas are like dreams—evanescent, vanishing, ephemeral, gone with the wind, as the saying goes.

Now to the late Newton Dillaway, an intimate corresponding friend for some years. I hardly know how to describe his fabulous—“hard to believe, astounding”—insights. Perhaps “esoteric” will suffice: “intended or understood by only a chosen few.” Although we had never met face to face, he would write about unbelievable acquaintances with me, a togetherness the likes of which I have never known or suspected. He was on the same intellectual and spiritual ascendancy as Emerson.

Emerson’s recordings in his Journal and lectures would doubtless have been lost to posterity had it not been for Dillaway’s genius. Let’s examine the meaning of “The Unfolding Life.” As he writes, “it is height.” And height? Heavenward or another term with a comparable meaning: Excelsior. Wrote Longfellow:

The shades of night were falling fast

As through an Alpine village past

A youth who bore ’mid snow and ice

A banner with the strange device,

Excelsior!

And speaking of youth and gaining height, the Sage of Concord wrote: “When we converse with what is above us, we do not grow old, but grow young.” To be young in spirit is the opportunity to do something and to become somebody.

The following are excerpts from Dillaway’s book, Consent, with which I wholeheartedly agree.

In the experience of the soul, as in the development of a plant, every “level” must be filled out to achieve health in all parts. The attainment of any plane as a natural base involves a slow, steady climb on what Smuts calls “the rugged, upward path of the universe,” a release from one state of consciousness to another, one field of magnetic action to another field. The law is that there is no release save in performance.

Epictetus was not teaching “naturalism” in speaking of harmonizing his will with nature. He permitted his will to be used by the universal power, which has its own will, one no man or group of men can reduce to a formula. All we know is that the cosmic will is to be followed, and in health any man will follow it.

But let no one lose sight of the fact that the way of divine acceptance is not the way of formalism, not the way of imposing man-made creeds and doctrines on the universe. That is folly. The universe has its own eternal way and there is no other way in reality.

If you impose limitations on human experience, you block the channels that permit life to flow. The urge to arbitrariness in human nature has been the curse of history, for it is this, more than anything else, that has blocked the flowing and ascension. It has stunted, warped and destroyed the finer elements of human experience.

When a way of life springs from the urge to preserve and promote freedom, it is good. When it springs from the urge to arbitrariness, it is a blockade. It springs also from the urge in man to feel important. If man can “settle things,” his vanity is appeased.

Let us learn to lead the unfolding life which is to grow, aspire, evolve toward freedom!