The Rudolf Steiner Archive

2. How Does One Gain Insight into the Spiritual World?

[ 1 ] I have often had the opportunity to speak to you about topics in the humanities, or, as it is customary to say, theosophy. This naturally leads to the question: What paths must the soul take to attain knowledge of the spiritual world?

[ 2 ] These approaches differ greatly from what we are accustomed to calling “scientific.” It would be very easy to say: Yes, these methods cannot be called scientific at all. Today, we understand ‘scientific’ to mean something entirely different. That is why it is necessary to first examine what “scientific” actually means.

[ 3 ] What does a researcher today require of a method in order to call it “scientific”? In response to this question, people today have come to hold the view that whatever is to be scientifically provable must, first, be investigable by anyone at any time, and, second, be completely independent of what is called “subjective.”

[ 4 ] The experiment meets these requirements, as does, for the most part, everything that is carried out in the laboratory. The experiment is independent of sympathy and antipathy and so on—in short, of everything that depends on our subjective inner processes.

[ 5 ] The situation is different when it comes to the study of the spiritual world. We must choose precisely the path that is entirely independent of the sensory world—that is, of that upon which modern science is based solely and exclusively. We need precisely what modern science seeks to exclude. If we speak figuratively of spiritual science, let us borrow a phrase from Fichte. He says: What I have to tell you cannot be explored with ordinary reason, for this requires a special, higher sense—just as if a person born blind were suddenly given the ability to see colors and light; so it would be if one attained this special sense, the “spiritual eye,” as Goethe says.

[ 6 ] If human beings must first acquire a new sense in order to perceive a new, different world, this already implies that this is not possible in every place, at every time, for every person, and so on, as external science demands.

[ 7 ] If we consider ordinary human life, this inner experience differs greatly from one person to another. Yet this is precisely what external science seeks to rule out; after all, there can be no consistency in what people experience within themselves regarding the spiritual world. But this judgment is very superficial.

[ 8 ] However, all of this can be very easily refuted. I have outlined one method for refuting theosophy in the addendum to Seiling’s *Theosophy and Christianity*. But this easy refutation is possible only as long as—and only to the extent that—this inner life does not proceed with the strict regularity of which I will speak shortly. As long as inner life still flows along in an unregulated manner, and as long as one remains at that stage, one is not a spiritual researcher. When this inner life advances methodically enough, it eventually reaches an inner impasse. If we now set aside everything that stirs within us as pleasure and pain through the impressions of the external world, what actually remains in normal inner life? One fact sheds light on this: sleep, during which all external faculties are fatigued and relaxed and no longer convey anything—[no sensory impressions]—to us.

[ 9 ] No one would admit that a person, in his inner being, ceases to exist in the evening and begins anew in the morning. But this core of being is unconscious from the moment experience ceases—the moment, figuratively speaking, when it dies.

[ 10 ] Isn’t it conceivable that the human soul can create something out of itself [to maintain consciousness]—this soul, which is too weak in ordinary people during sleep—if it is made strong? It is certainly conceivable that the soul would no longer need external impressions. We would have to learn to distinguish between a person’s unconsciousness during sleep and a voluntary withdrawal of this core of being, from which life is drawn out of the soul itself. The impressions of external life are bound to the external sense organs. The soul must artificially withdraw from these external sensory impressions. Yes, how can it do that? We stand there empty when we lack external sensory impressions, since our entire soul life is nourished solely by these impressions.

[ 11 ] If we seek to sustain our inner life solely through these external impressions, we will never attain a deeper experience. In order to experience this, we must not only use external sensory impressions to gain insights into the environment, but also learn to view them as symbols.

[ 12 ] Take, for example, the plant: It is rooted in the ground, green sap flows through it, and it stands there chaste, devoid of drives and instincts. Let us compare it to the human being: He is permeated by drives, desires, and instincts; he is permeated by blood. Red blood is the carrier of the life of the drives. Thus, the green sap can appear to us as a symbol of the chaste life, and the red blood as a symbol of the life of instincts and drives. Human beings must become beings as free of drives as the plant is. Let us consider, for example, the rose, which has transformed the chaste green sap into the color of blood, full of life force. The rose is thus a symbol of the human being who has transformed the life force of the blood into chastity. This is expressed in Goethe’s words:

And as long as you do not have
this: Die and Be Born Again,
you are but a gloomy guest
on this dark earth.

[ 13 ] “Die and be reborn”—that is what matters. We should not seek to achieve this through asceticism, but with full vigor. Why can we strike at it so fiercely with a hammer? Because we are objective toward it. Thus, our body is to become [a powerful tool], [which we place in the service of the higher worlds]; the body, the life of the instincts, is to die, [to become dispassionate] for us. “Die and Become”—this must be taken seriously. A symbol of Goethe’s “Die and Become” is the Rose Cross. We find the “Die” in the dead black cross of the wood—our blood, which has died to instincts and base desires—and in the roses we find the “Become.” Yes, human beings can “become” something. The symbol for this is the sprouting red roses. Now one might say: Yes, but these are merely ideas drawn from the sensory world. Yet roses never grow from black wood. — The black wood and the red roses are indeed drawn from the sensory world, but their combination is formed solely as a symbol for the soul.

[ 14 ] [Another auspicious symbol is the staff with the serpent. We can compare life to a staff; the higher life leads straight upward, and the serpentine curves represent the external impressions through which a person winds his way upward.]

[ 15 ] No scientist would present such a symbol in this way. Everything scientists say is true, as if it could be seen everywhere in space. What the spiritual scientist, on the other hand, presents as such symbols is put together arbitrarily.

[ 16 ] But these symbols have a strange effect on our soul. Let us imagine that we shut off all our senses and sink these symbols deep, deep into our soul. At first, these symbols will not convey truths to us, but as a living force they work there within our soul. When a person repeatedly allows such symbols to take effect upon them, they experience something in the process. But it is essential that one allows them to take effect again and again. One must have patience. One must perform such an exercise fifty times, and then another fifty times. Constant dripping wears away the stone; not one, nor even fifty raindrops on a stone are enough, but again and again we must summon our will—not merely to allow external impressions to reach us, but to let such symbols live within us through our will, again and again. This revives us inwardly, so that we can eventually bring them to life within ourselves at will. When a person has been engaged in such practice, they eventually wake up in the morning feeling as though they are sinking back into their physical body, able once again to make use of their organs. One experiences that one can live outside one’s body, that one can be active outside one’s physical body. Through such practice, one learns to recognize that one can, so to speak, leave one’s body and be active—mentally active. This is what distinguishes this state from sleep. One can think and feel without one’s body. One arrives at this realization after having undergone such exercises. This is troubling for some people today, but it is nevertheless true.

[ 17 ] Our physical body acts like a mirror. Our consciousness is the reflection of our inner life in our physical body. But [today’s scientists] say that the brain must be completely intact for our consciousness to be genuine. — Yes, that is quite correct. Likewise, we see ourselves quite differently depending on whether we look into a flat mirror or a concave mirror. Such exercises have torn our consciousness away from the ordinary external reflection of the body, and only as such a spiritual being does a person perceive that he or she is experiencing life together with other spiritual beings.

[ 18 ] This first stage is “imaginative insight.” Here, one is dependent only on these combined symbols, composed of elements drawn from the sensory world. We must set these aside; we must set aside the cross and the roses. We must let go of these external impressions, and now we think: What was your activity like in this process of composition, when you put together the serpent staff and the cross? What we then have is something that is no longer inspired by anything external at all. The external world does not inspire anyone to form symbols; a person does this from the depths of the soul. Here, one reflects on the inner activity of the soul; uninfluenced, not even inspired by the external world, this process is entirely spiritual and soul-based. This is called meditation. True inner forces arise here that connect us to the spiritual worlds. We call such spiritual insight “inspired insight.” We have experienced that there is a world independent of the physical. Now we are getting to know this world ourselves. Just as when one arrives at a coastline that appears on the distant horizon and gradually gets to know it, so it is with the knowledge of the spiritual worlds.

[ 19 ] We must go even further based on this inspired insight. We must also let go of the activity of the soul. It can be described as a kind of conscious sleep—this can occur, and it can occur quite consciously. But it can also happen that we come to know the spiritual world in such a way that we become one with it, merging into it. This is called “intuition.” It must not be confused with what is called “intuition” today, when something suddenly occurs to one. That is something entirely different. Intuition requires the soul’s greatest effort. Everything subjective must be eliminated from the soul, just as scientists demand for true scientific rigor. The soul serves as a stage in the intuitive world. Everything subjective is eradicated, even the activity that has brought us up to this point. [The soul becomes the stage where things express their essence.]

[ 20 ] As described here, this path seems very abstract, but in reality it is truly not so; rather, anyone who wishes to follow this path must endure very, very difficult struggles. Renunciation and struggles are part of this path. Our inner spiritual life seizes us as if with tentacles once we have renounced external stimuli. The moral and immoral impulses, insofar as they exist within the soul, rise up from within. Then what we truly are comes before our soul. Self-knowledge emerges at this point. The mystics have written about this—about the moral trials and temptations that arise when they become aware of them, when they seek to descend into the soul: “You were a person of such-and-such a nature, governed by convention, custom, and tradition, but only now does the true essence of the soul emerge.” – People swear by the most diametrically opposed worldviews; they have scrutinized everything morally. The monist adopts his view based on feeling, as does the spiritualist. Only now does a person recognize the reason why he has adopted this or that view; only now do we see what illusions we had when we thought we were being logical.

[ 21 ] It can fill one with a certain irony when people come along and say that the spiritual scientist is a dreamer and so on, and such people have no idea how little they themselves have looked behind the scenes of fantasy and illusion. One can overcome only what one has carried within oneself. This cannot be achieved without pain. One has clung—not only with one’s thoughts but also with one’s happiness—to what one sees sinking into illusion, and one must renounce not only the illusion but also the source of that illusion; both must be relinquished with heroic strength. Even if a person wishes to overcome inspiration, they find themselves becoming very “light.” Logic is of no help here; powerlessness cannot be fought with logic. Nothing can be achieved that way, and even the surrender of happiness is of no use—one comes to think that way. One enters the realm of doubt and despair, and all the doubts of the external world are nothing, are inferior in comparison to the doubt at this stage. The only way we can overcome this—this dreadful realm of ice—is by not arriving there unprepared, but by first gaining the strength to do so.

[ 22 ] It is difficult to get there—very, very difficult. It is only outlined here, but it is not impossible, and no one should let that deter them. There are ways to overcome the difficulties. To explore and experience the spiritual world, one must enter it; but to understand it, clear logic is necessary.

[ 23 ] Today, however, it is difficult to apply unclouded logic. What has been proven is therefore not always believed. What matters is that the proof is believed. Anything the spiritual researchers say can be proven, but people often do not accept this proof at all. Anyone can become a spiritual researcher, but first, a healthy sense of truth and unclouded logic are sufficient. The most beautiful prospect seems to us to be that spiritual nourishment is given to people more and more, and that people increasingly integrate it into their physical lives. And that is the mission of spiritual science: to bring down this spiritual life, this spiritual sap, and allow it to flow into what the senses convey—and into what is encountered there in the whole, complete human being—which we can summarize in the words:

It presses upon the human soul From the mysterious depths of the universe The rich abundance of matter. It flows into the depths of the soul From the heights of the universe, full of meaning The clarifying light of the spirit. They meet within the human being To form a reality of wisdom.

Question and Answer

Question: Isn't it arrogance to want to know about spiritual worlds in this life?

[ 24 ] Rudolf Steiner: On the contrary; it is humility not to want to remain as one is. It is pride not to want to use the powers that have been placed within us. One surrounds oneself with the mask of complacency, which does not aspire to spiritual realms.