The Rudolf Steiner Archive

12. The Supersensible Human Being and the Questions of Free Will and the Immortality of the Soul

[ 1 ] [Ladies and gentlemen!] There is no doubt that an immediate feeling within the human soul acknowledges that there are two questions of particular significance that a person may ask: the question of free will and [the question of] the immortality of the soul.

[ 2 ] There is a deep connection between these two questions; it is no mere coincidence that we wish to consider them side by side today. In a sense, for as long as there has been a human quest for knowledge—for as long as there has been a quest for a worldview—there has also been a special effort to come to terms with these two questions. They are also the cornerstones of philosophical inquiry. But how much contradiction there is in this field!

[ 3 ] Anyone who considers these two questions from the perspective of spiritual science will realize why ordinary intellectual inquiry, despite all the ingenuity it can muster, fails to arrive at a satisfactory solution. In our age of natural science, people seek to gain insight into these questions through scientific knowledge as well. Yet despite all the admiration one must have for the achievements of the natural sciences—they do not come close to answering these two questions.

[ 4 ] These two questions point toward a deeper self-knowledge. In this process, all the difficulties of self-knowledge become apparent. Nevertheless, what is at stake here is a question of time—and yet the scientific worldview fails, for example, when it comes to the question: What is it within a human being that, as the true self, leads this life?

[ 5 ] Self-knowledge is also at the heart of the question posed by the scientist, the question he must ask himself: What goes on in thinking, feeling, and imagining? Waldstein explores this in his book The Subconscious Self. He recounts standing in front of a bookstore and looking at the displays. He is a natural scientist himself. Then his gaze happens to fall on a scientific book titled On Mollusks—that was the title—and, to his astonishment, he finds himself smiling. He asks himself: Why am I smiling, anyway? What is stirring within me? He closes his eyes and pays attention to everything happening around him. Then, in the distance, he hears the sounds of a barrel organ playing dance music that he had previously overlooked, and which only now comes to his awareness because he has closed his eyes. When he first heard that music, he was still young, and he used to dance to its melody. Now, as he looks at the book titles, this melody unconsciously mingles with his thoughts, and the memory of it blends into the surging currents of his soul. He had only become aware of it when he closed his eyes—and yet he couldn’t help but smile unconsciously!

[ 6 ] This shows that much, much lies in the depths of the soul—things we otherwise need not know about. Much surges up—what we call memory and so on—that we cannot fully grasp, that belongs to the subconscious. When one considers all this, one must actually despair of ever truly coming to know what the human self really is. Other examples [can be found] in “How Does One Gain Insight into the Higher Worlds?” These examples show how cautious one must be when approaching the questions of human self-knowledge. Within this consciousness, waves of the soul are at work of which one can have no inkling. How inadequate is natural science for investigating them—it gets no further than vague factors of memory, the scope of which we cannot even fathom.

[ 7 ] A completely different approach—one that goes beyond the usual way of thinking—is needed to gain this insight. One must seek a different kind of insight that lies dormant within human beings. For the time being, it is still difficult to make this clear to others. It is even more difficult than it was to introduce the clarity of the Copernican worldview, which, after all, also required a complete rethinking.

[ 8 ] The first requirement will be that something like the sounds of a barrel organ find their way into knowledge in the humanities. The consequence is: the pursuit of knowledge that is not susceptible to such deception.

[ 9 ] Spiritual science strives for a kind of knowledge that has nothing to do with ordinary memory. In the process of cognition, it must exclude not only external perception from consciousness, but also the faculty of memory itself. It must show that one can go back to deeper layers that lie even beyond memory—to delve into the depths of the soul that lie deeper than ordinary memory. The human soul attains such knowledge. — The first thing one must strive for in order to enter the spiritual world is imaginative knowledge.

[ 10 ] Why can self-knowledge be attained only in this way? When we look out into the external world with our eyes, we see everything around us. The eye does not see itself, and that is precisely why it is able to perceive other things. The same is true of the human self. It can see the things in its environment, but not itself at first. Another person can, of course, see the eye. There is no way for the human self to be examined by others. The human self must step outside of itself, to the side of itself. This is necessary for self-knowledge. It must leave the physicality in which it usually lives. The human eye can, of course, see itself—namely, in a mirror.—But what then?

[ 11 ] What is missing is what imbues it with life—the essential. It is merely an image seen by the eye. Imaginative self-knowledge strives for something similar. It requires stepping outside of one’s personality. What is then perceived relates to the living, spirit-filled human being like an eye in a mirror. Hence the term “imaginative,” meaning insight through images.

[ 12 ] We cannot suddenly enter the spiritual world. A serious striving is necessary for this, and it is only by going beyond the image that we enter the spiritual world. This must be preceded by the usual activities of the soul, in order first to strengthen the entire life of the soul and make it more intense than it is in everyday life.

[ 13 ] For the exercises, one should therefore choose mental images that are as straightforward as possible—specifically, ones that do not evoke memories or past experiences. After all, the goal is not to “lose oneself” in memories or the like—not to “strum the barrel organ.”

[ 14 ] Therefore, it is right to observe meditation with full awareness; to know how to form the mental image. Because it depends on the mental energy applied, it is good to choose meditations that are symbolic. One should allow the consciousness to rest during this process.

[ 15 ] There have always been schools that teach such ideas. But this profound mystery has been preserved—for the simple reason that these ideas should not be heard or read everywhere; they were not to be carried as memories in the soul, but rather, one should first bring these images before the soul in meditation. The imagination lives in such ideas. One must practice them for years. — People often think that the natural sciences are difficult, while the spiritual sciences are easy. But that is not the case. Anyone familiar with both knows how difficult the exercises of the spiritual sciences are—especially when they are intended to lead to more far-reaching results—much more difficult and serious than those of the natural sciences. One must not be misled by any of these things.

[ 16 ] Ultimately, through continued practice, one attains a genuine power of visual imagery. The soul learns to live in a world of images that is just as intense as external sensory impressions. However, this must be strictly distinguished from all forms of visionary experience and [from] hallucinations, which, though mysterious, are nevertheless manifestations of the physical constitution.

[ 17 ] The humanities, however, deal with an inner activity that is independent of any physical organization. One enters more and more into a life of the soul where the body has no say. In the imagination, however, memories still played a role.

[ 18 ] But then comes the most difficult part of all! Once one has finally arrived at this imaginative or pictorial insight after years of practice, one has still achieved nothing more than a certain degree of self-education. For this world of images—and this would be a colossal mistake—has not the slightest connection to the objective spiritual world. One must realize that one has now merely achieved a strengthening of the human self. A soul’s eye that one has integrated into oneself, but with which one cannot yet see! One feels oneself, with one’s “I,” in a kind of spiritual experience, but without the aid of the body as before.

[ 19 ] The next task is to make this world of images—which now arises of its own accord—transparent. The first task was to create this world of images; the second task is, in turn, to remove it—to make it transparent—so that one is left with nothing but a different experience of the self. But one carries within oneself the passage through the imaginative world and what was gained through it. A new world now reveals itself around the person. This world exhibits certain characteristics that prove a special experience is taking place.

[ 20 ] Everyday consciousness gives rise to memories. What one learns in the spiritual world must first be translated into ordinary concepts if one wishes to communicate it or recall it. One cannot remember the event itself. If one wishes to experience the same thing again in the spiritual world, one must make the same spiritual efforts and follow exactly the same path as the first time in order to perceive it anew. This disappoints many beginners. They may well have extrasensory experiences soon. But these experiences do not immediately become a source of life for them, because they are so easily forgotten and new efforts are required to relive them.

[ 21 ] If I may cite another personal example: Most people always assume that if I’ve given a lecture many times, it should become easier and easier for me over time, because it would have become almost literally ingrained in my memory. But that is by no means the case. On the contrary. The content must be retrieved from the realms of the mind anew each time.

[ 22 ] There is something else to consider here: When we adapt to the ordinary world, we practice many things through repetition, and as a result, they become easier and easier for us over time. In the spiritual world, it is exactly the opposite. Once you have seen a being or a phenomenon, it becomes more difficult to see the same thing the next time. The being or phenomenon eludes you because you have already seen and experienced it once. The next time, one must make a greater effort to experience it again. And thirdly, presence of mind is necessary: If one wants to retain the experiences one has in the spiritual world, one needs presence of mind—for they appear and vanish again immediately. Anyone who, before every decision, hesitates and weighs all sides indecisively is ill-prepared. You must quickly assess a situation and act on it promptly. And once you have acted, look back on it without regret, even if the matter did not turn out successfully. This state of mind leads to presence of mind, and those who wish to enter the spiritual world need it. Then it comes to meet you as inspiration—and only with inspiration do you stand face to face with the spiritual world.

[ 23 ] The third stage is intuition. Here, a person not only gains insight into the spiritual world, but—just as one lives in the physical body—once one has passed through the first and second stages, one is united with the spiritual on the third stage. One must immerse oneself completely in it, forgetting oneself entirely. Namely, one must forget one’s everyday consciousness—and it is precisely this that most people have such a hopeless, unconscious fear of. Only when one emerges from intuition does one have full awareness of what has been experienced, even in ordinary life. One must pass through this self-forgetfulness—through this dying off—with courage. Only when one enters the spiritual world in this way can one approach questions such as those we wish to address today, for these are questions concerning the supersensible human being.

[ 24 ] A quarter of a century ago, I addressed these two questions philosophically in an unusual way—[in] The Philosophy of Freedom. I tried to make them acceptable even to those who want nothing to do with theosophy.

[ 25 ] The first pivotal point, which connects to nature, is human thought, which is a wondrous mystery. You don’t notice much of it; otherwise, you would already be on the path to the supernatural.

[ 26 ] In the free play of ideas—and this must be noted—there always lies a pivotal point of human spiritual life: We must tell ourselves that, from the perspective of our own organization, we understand the interplay of ideas, associations, and so on, but we cannot grasp the interplay with scientific concepts—that is, the thinking and the logical distinction between “right” and “wrong” in thought. Free actions can only be those that approach us as true or false, those that do not arise from human thought—intuitive moral intuitions that approach thought like an impulse, asking whether the thought is false or true.

[ 27 ] The second key point: Actions driven by instincts are not free. The hidden reasons for this lie in human nature. Other reasons can be discerned from certain actions. We must understand this form of action. What happens when we love someone? People usually say: Love is blind. No—I say: Love opens our eyes. It discovers deeper qualities that escape others when it immerses itself in the other person, self-forgetful and without selfishness. Connected to this kind of love is the fact that one cannot even begin to do what selfish love so easily does: wanting to reform the beloved, criticizing them, or trying to reshape them. True love intuitively grasps the beloved; it does not seek to change them at all, but rather to leave them as they are. It seeks only to pour itself into the other being—it does not seek to reshape them in its own image.

[ 28 ] The same can also apply to an action. If I feel the purest love for an action, without selfishness, then I perform that action out of the impulse of love—that is a free action. Whoever follows this path of performing actions for their own sake is on the path to freedom.

[ 29 ] One can approach these two pivotal points of human life through spiritual insight. What is it that penetrates the soul? — If one gains the ability to confront this thinking with intuition, one makes the [startling] discovery: What stirs us—what we accept as “true” or reject—does not come from our physical body, but is instilled in us through unconscious inspiration. It is unconscious inspiration that flows into us. What is this? What is it that inspires us? What inspires us is what the soul experienced before birth, before conception by the parents; this provides forces that become an unconscious, guiding force of inspiration.

[ 30 ] Spiritual science must deepen and strengthen certain concepts. Research on immortality to date has simply viewed it as a continuation of this earthly life. Spiritual research asks a different question: Is this earthly life not the continuation of a previous spiritual life? Everything spiritual originates from a spiritual world. Beneath the threshold of consciousness lies the source of spiritual guiding power. This life necessarily gives rise to the idea of immortality—it must be the continuation of an earlier spiritual life. Immortal forces lie hidden behind spiritual forces. That is why one should not—and need not—go against the facts of natural science. One should simply delve deeper. The natural scientist investigates material processes. Spiritual science seeks to build a bridge from these material phenomena to the spiritual realities that underlie them. From a biological perspective, one asks: What is happening in the brain while we have mental images? Spiritual science can address this question. One discovers what spiritual elements also underlie the sensory organs. While we are imagining, a process of starvation takes place in the brain—partially in the brain and in the nervous system. When the main organism is partially starving, we experience an unconscious inspiration on a psychological level.

[ 31 ] The eyes of some animals have a sword-like projection. This gives rise to a different kind of consciousness. In humans, this feature has regressed; it is much simpler. Some things die out as development progresses, while others regress.

[ 32 ] As soon as the head enters its highest stage—that of thinking—the sprouting must give way; it must make room for the soul. At its highest stage, it begins to decline, falls away, and must make room for the spiritual-soul. The head is in a state of regression; hence the influence of the prenatal period—this exerts its effect in the fiftieth year.

[ 33 ] With another part of our body, the opposite is true: the extremities. While the head is in the process of regression, the extremities are an organism that transcends itself in its development. It finds its continuation inward; here, too, the overdevelopment extends. That the extremities and the sexual organs belong together is evident in women in the overdevelopment of the arms, legs, and breasts; in these lies something creative, something that physically transcends itself.

[ 34 ] After the inspirations, new imaginations arise. The external extremities are a symbol of the human being’s entry into the external world through his moral or immoral actions. These influences operate unconsciously within a person even before death; they occur, on the one hand, when a person acts in such a way that his deeds are intuitive moral actions, and, on the other hand, when the unconscious intuitive intuitions ... [of prenatal life and the imagination of life after death converge], the person establishes a relationship with the external world through his actions.

[ 35 ] The inspirational prenatal life and the intuitive postnatal life together constitute the “moral imagination” or human free will. It consists of intuition and love.

[ 36 ] What can become free within a human being? The supersensible personality. The immortal soul is what brings about the free act in true love. What is free within a human being? The immortal soul. What does the knowledge of the soul’s immortality bring to life? Freedom.

[ 37 ] Thus, the immortality of the soul and freedom are necessities; they are not an “either-or,” but a “both-and.” The attainment of freedom, however, must be the free act of the individual!