The Rudolf Steiner Archive

[ 2 ] Once the observer of higher worlds knows what imagination truly is, he very soon gains the sense that the images of the astral world are not mere images, but rather the manifestations of spiritual beings. He learns to recognize that he must relate the imaginative images to spiritual or soul beings just as he relates sensory colors to sensory things or beings. In detail, however, he will still have much to learn in this regard. He will have to distinguish between color forms that are opaque and those that are completely transparent and, as it were, fully illuminated from within. Indeed, he will also perceive forms that, as it were, constantly generate their own colored light from within—forms that are not only completely illuminated and transparent but also continually radiate from within themselves. And he will attribute the more opaque forms to lower beings, the illuminated ones to middle beings; the images that radiate from within will be to him manifestations of higher spiritual beings.

[ 3 ] If one wishes to grasp the truth of the imaginative world, one must not interpret the concept of spiritual vision too narrowly. For in this world there are not merely perceptions of light and color—which can thus be compared to visual experiences in the physical world—but also impressions of warmth and cold, of taste and smell, and indeed other experiences of the imaginative “senses” for which there is no equivalent in the physical world. In the imaginative (astral) world, impressions of warmth and cold are manifestations of the will and intentions of soul and spiritual beings. Whether such a being intends good or evil is revealed through a specific effect of warmth or cold. One can also “taste” and “smell” the astral beings. — Only that which, in the true sense, constitutes the physical aspect of tone and sound is almost entirely absent from the truly imaginative world. In this regard, utter silence reigns there. Instead, however, something quite different presents itself to those advancing in spiritual observation—something comparable to the tones and sounds, to the music and language of the sensory world. And it is precisely then—when all sounds and tones of the outer physical world have fallen completely silent, indeed when even the slightest inner psychological echo of this realm of the outer world has ceased—that this higher realm emerges. Then what emerges for the observer is what might be called a “understanding of the meaning” of the imaginative experiences. If one were to compare what is experienced here with something in the physical world, one could only, for the sake of illustration, draw upon something that does not exist at all in this world. Try to imagine that one could perceive a person’s thoughts and feelings, without hearing their words with the physical ear; such perception would be comparable to that immediate understanding of the imaginative realm, which is described as “hearing” in a spiritual sense. The “speaking” elements are the impressions of color and light. In the flickering and fading, in the changing colors of the images, harmonies and disharmonies are revealed, which unveil the feelings, ideas, and thoughts of soul and spiritual beings. And just as sound in the physical human being rises to the level of speech when a thought takes hold, so do the harmonies and disharmonies of the spiritual world rise to the level of revelations that are essential thoughts themselves. For this to happen, however, it must “grow dark” in this world if the thought is to reveal itself in its immediacy. The experience that arises here presents itself as follows: One sees the bright hues—red, yellow, and orange—fade away and perceives how the higher world darkens through green into blue and violet; at the same time, one experiences within oneself an intensification of inner volitional energy. One experiences complete freedom with regard to place and time; one feels oneself in motion. One experiences certain line forms and shapes. Yet one does not experience them as if one were seeing them drawn before oneself in some space, but rather as if, in constant motion with one’s self, one were following every stroke of the line and every form oneself. Indeed, one feels the “I” as both the artist and the very material with which the drawing is made. And every stroke, every shift in position, is simultaneously an experience of this “I.” One comes to recognize that, with one’s moving “I,” one is woven into the creative forces of the world. The laws of the world are now no longer something perceived externally by the “I,” but a real, wondrous fabric at which one weaves. — Esoteric science conceives all manner of symbolic drawings and images. If these truly correspond to reality and are not merely figments of the imagination, they are based on the observer’s experiences in higher worlds, which are to be viewed in the manner described above.

[ 4 ] This is how the inspired world enters into the imagined one. When the imaginations begin to reveal their meanings to the observer in a “silent language,” then within the imaginative realm, the world of inspiration unfolds.

[ 5 ] The physical world is a revelation of the world into which the spiritual observer penetrates in this way. What is accessible to the senses and to the intellect—which is limited to them—in this physical world is merely its outer aspect. To cite just one example: the plant, as observed with the physical senses and the physical intellect, is not the complete plant being. Anyone who knows only this physical plant has before them something similar to what a being would have that could perceive a human fingernail but to whom the perception of the human being itself would be inaccessible. However, the structure and essence of the fingernail can only be understood when explained in terms of the entire human being. Thus, in truth, the plant is only comprehensible when one knows what belongs to it, just as the entire human being belongs to the human fingernail. Yet what belongs to the plant cannot be found in the physical world. The plant is based, first of all, on something that is revealed only through imagination in the astral world, and furthermore on something that becomes apparent only through inspiration in the spiritual world. — Thus, the plant as a physical being is the manifestation of an entity that can be grasped through imagination and inspiration.

[ 6 ] As can be seen from the foregoing, a path opens up for the observer of the higher worlds that begins in the physical world. For he can start from this physical world and, through its manifestations, ascend to the higher beings that underlie them. If they begin with the animal kingdom, they can ascend to the imaginative world; if they begin with the plant kingdom, spiritual observation leads them through imagination to the world of inspiration. For when one follows this path, one soon finds within the imaginative and inspirational worlds beings and realities that do not manifest at all in the physical world. One must not, therefore, believe that in this way one comes to know only those beings of the higher worlds that reveal themselves in the physical world. Once one has entered the world of imagination, one encounters a wealth of beings and events of which the mere physical observer cannot even dream.

[ 7 ] There is, however, another path. One that does not originate in the physical world. One that makes a person immediately clairvoyant in the higher realms of existence. For many people, this path may hold greater appeal than the one mentioned earlier. Yet, given our present circumstances, only the path of ascent from the physical world should be chosen. It requires the observer to make the necessary sacrifices so that he may first survey the physical world and gather certain insights—and, above all, experiences—there. Nevertheless, it is by far the most appropriate path for our current cultural conditions. The other path presupposes the prior acquisition of soul qualities that are extremely difficult to attain within present-day living conditions. Even though such soul qualities are emphasized time and again with the utmost clarity and precision in relevant writings—to the extent that one must acquire such qualities (e.g., selflessness, devoted love, etc.) if one does not wish to set out for the higher worlds from the firm ground of the physical world, most people still have no even remotely adequate conception of this. And if someone were then awakened in the higher worlds without the necessary degree of the corresponding qualities of the soul, unspeakable misery would be the result. Now, one must not believe that by leaving the physical world and its experiences, one could dispense with the described qualities of the soul. To believe such a thing would also be a grave error. But such a departure allows one to acquire these qualities of the soul to the extent and, above all, in the form that is possible under our present living conditions.

[ 8 ] And there is something else to consider here. If one proceeds from the physical world in the manner suggested, one remains in a living connection with this physical world even while ascending into the higher worlds. One retains a full understanding of everything that takes place within it, as well as the full energy to act within it. Indeed, this understanding and this energy grow in the most beneficial way precisely through the knowledge of the higher worlds. In every area of life—no matter how mundane or practical it may seem—the one who knows the higher worlds will act more effectively and for the greater good than the one who does not, provided the former has maintained a vital connection with the physical world.

[ 9 ] But anyone who is awakened to the higher realms of existence without having started from the physical world is, admittedly, all too easily alienated from life; he becomes a hermit who faces the world around him without understanding or concern. Indeed, it often happens among those who have been developed only incompletely in this way—though not among those who are fully developed—that they look down with a certain disdain upon the experiences of the physical world, that they feel too refined for it, and so on. Instead of their connection to the world deepening, such individuals become hardened, spiritually selfish beings. For the temptation to all of this is truly not insignificant. And those who strive for ascent into the higher worlds should pay particular attention to this.

[ 10 ] From inspiration, the spiritual observer can ascend to intuition. In the terminology of esoteric science, this word means, in many respects, the exact opposite of what it is often used to mean in everyday life. In the latter, one speaks of intuition when referring to a hunch that is vaguely felt to be true, but which as yet lacks a clear, conceptual formulation. It is seen more as a preliminary stage of knowledge than as knowledge itself. Such an “insight”—according to this definition—may illuminate a great truth as if by a flash of lightning; it can only be regarded as knowledge once it is substantiated by conceptual judgments. Sometimes, however, the term “intuition” is also used to describe something one “feels” to be true—something of which one is entirely convinced, but which one does not wish to substantiate with rational judgments. People who come into contact with esoteric knowledge often say: “That has always been clear to me ‘intuitively.’” All of this must be set entirely aside if one wishes to consider the term “intuition” in its true meaning as intended here. In this context, intuition is not a form of knowledge that falls short of intellectual knowledge in clarity, but rather one that far surpasses it.

[ 11 ] In inspiration, the experiences of the higher worlds express their meaning. The observer lives within the qualities and actions of the beings of these higher worlds. When, as described above, he follows a line or a form with his “I,” he nevertheless knows that he is not within the being itself, but within its qualities and activities. Even in imaginative perception, he experiences, for example, that he feels not outside but within the images of color; but he also knows just as clearly that these images of color are not beings in their own right, but qualities of such beings. In inspiration, he becomes aware that he is becoming one with the actions of such beings, with the manifestations of their will; only in intuition does he merge with beings that are self-contained in themselves. In the true sense, this can only happen if this merging takes place not through the obliteration but through the complete preservation of his own being. Any “losing oneself” to a foreign being is harmful. Therefore, only an “I” that is firmly established within itself to a high degree can immerse itself in another being without harm. — One has intuitively grasped something only when, in the face of this “something,” one has come to the realization that a being is expressing itself within it—a being of the same nature and inner self-containedness as one’s own “I.” Anyone who observes a stone with the senses and seeks to understand it according to its characteristics through the intellect—and ordinary scientific methods—comes to know only the outer surface of the stone. As a spiritual observer, one advances to imaginative and inspired insight. If they live within this latter realm, they can arrive at a deeper sensation. One might characterize this sensation through a comparison of the following kind. Imagine seeing a person on the street. At first, they make only a fleeting impression on the observer. Later, one gets to know them better; and the moment comes when one becomes so close to them that soul opens up to soul. The experience one undergoes when the veils of the souls fall away in this way and “I” stands face to face with “I” is comparable to the experience when the stone appears to the spiritual observer merely as an external revelation, and he proceeds toward something to which the stone belongs—just as the fingernail belongs to the human body—and which manifests itself as an “I,” just as one’s own “I” is one.

[ 12 ] It is only through intuition that human beings attain the kind of knowledge that leads them into the “innermost being” of beings. In discussing inspiration, some points have been made regarding the transformation that the spiritual observer’s inner state of mind must undergo if he is to attain this form of knowledge. It has been said there that, for example, an incorrect judgment must not merely speak to the intellect, but must also evoke the feeling that it causes suffering and pain. And the observer must systematically cultivate such inner experience. However, as long as this pain arises from the sympathies and antipathies of the ego, from its taking sides, there can be no talk of a preparation for inspiration being attained through it. Such a stirring of the mind is still far, very far removed from the inner participation that the ego must have in the mere truth—as truth—if it wishes to achieve the aforementioned goals. It cannot be emphasized strongly enough that, in fact, all forms of interest—which in ordinary life manifest as pleasure and pain in relation to truth and error—must first fall silent, and then a completely different kind of interest, one devoid of all self-interest, must take their place if anything is to be achieved in the realm of knowledge through inspiration. This one quality of inner spiritual life, however, is merely one of the means of preparation for inspiration. There are an unlimited number of others that must be added to this one. And the more the spiritual observer refines himself with regard to what has already served him for inspiration, the closer he is able to approach intuition. The systematic guidance that esoteric science provides for intuition will be discussed in further essays.