The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Sixteenth Lecture

[ 1 ] You will see that the questions you were kind enough to pose to me will now gradually come up in the lecture. It was simply a matter of laying the groundwork for a rational answer to these questions. Today I would like to pick up where we left off yesterday. As I was able to point out to you yesterday, the functions of the spleen are of great significance in the human organism. These functions of the spleen can indeed be described as essentially regulating the subconscious life of the soul. It is a misunderstanding of the entire human being to regard the spleen as a subordinate organ. Admittedly, this error—this misunderstanding—may arise from the fact that the functions of the spleen are very easily taken over by the mere etheric spleen, since it is, after all, a highly spiritualized organ, and other organs can also be called upon to perform the functions of the spleen. But you will be able to see for yourselves how the spleen’s activity becomes more remarkable when it is brought more fully up from the subconscious into consciousness. Strangely enough, it is precisely in connection with the spleen that we come to consider a certain healing method that has become of interest in recent times. The peculiar thing is simply that we are starting here from the spleen’s activity. You will find, in fact, that gentle massages in the spleen region initially have a balancing effect on human instinctual activity. In a certain sense, a person develops better instincts—for example, an easier ability to identify foods that are suitable for them, and healthier relationships with what serves and what does not serve their organism—when gentle massages are performed in the spleen region. But this massage in the spleen region has its limits. As soon as it becomes too strong, it is likely to completely undermine instinctive activity once again. So it is precisely here that a peculiar pause—I would say, a “zero point”—must occur. One must not go too far with the gentle massage.

[ 2 ] Well, what does this actually have to do with it? When you gently massage the spleen—I mean the area around the spleen—something is drawn into that area that isn’t normally there. In a sense, the consciousness of the person being massaged is projected there. A great deal depends on this redistribution of consciousness and on allowing consciousness to flow. It is sometimes difficult to adequately describe these subtle processes of the human organism using our coarse, crude language. As strange as it may sound, there is a strong interaction between those unconscious mental and rational activities—which are mediated in the human organism by the spleen, or rather by the spleen’s functions—and the conscious functions of the human organism. Now, what exactly are the conscious functions of the human organism? Everything that takes place in the organism in such a way that the physical processes are accompanied by higher processes of consciousness—namely, processes of imagination—constitutes a toxic effect within the organism. This is something that must not be overlooked. The organism continually poisons itself precisely through its imaginative activity. It actually constantly counterbalances these states of poisoning through unconscious states of will. The center for these unconscious states of will is located in the spleen. If we now infuse the spleen with consciousness by massaging it, we counteract, in a certain sense, the strong toxic effect emanating from our higher consciousness.

[ 3 ] However, spleen massage does not always have to be external; it can also be internal. You may dispute whether this should be called a “massage,” but what matters is that we understand each other. In fact, a spleen massage can also be performed, for example, on a person who shows signs of intense internal organ activity resulting from a state of intoxication; this abnormal state of consciousness related to the spleen can be influenced by telling that person: Don’t just eat the main meals; eat as little as possible at the main meals, and eat more often—spread out your meals so that they occur at shorter intervals. — This spacing out of meals is an internal spleen massage; it significantly influences spleen activity. Of course, there are also some caveats to this, just as there are certain caveats to all processes of this kind. For you see, in our hurried times, when people—or at least many people—are constantly engaged in strenuous external activity, the function of the spleen is influenced extremely strongly by this very external activity, precisely because the person is active. They do not act like certain animals, which maintain their health by lying down and not allowing external activity to disrupt their digestion; in reality, they are actually sparing their spleen function. Human beings do not spare their spleen function when they are engaged in external, nervous, and hurried activity. This is why, throughout civilized humanity, spleen function is gradually becoming very abnormal, and why relieving the strain on the spleen through the very means I have just described takes on special importance.

[ 4 ] I would say that one is beautifully reminded of the relationship between the human organs that mediate the unconscious and those that mediate the conscious when one pays attention to such subtle forms of massage as spleen massage—both internal and external—because this brings one to an understanding of the significance of massage; at the very least, it makes it easier to grasp the full significance of massage. Massage has a certain significance, and under certain circumstances it can also have a powerful healing effect, although its primary function is to regulate rhythmic activity in the human body. It acts primarily to regulate rhythmic activity in the human body. But if one wishes to massage successfully, one must have a thorough understanding of the human organism. You will be guided in the right direction if you consider the following, for example. Consider for a moment the immense difference that exists for the human organism—not for the animal organism, but for the human organism—between the arms and the legs. The human arms, which are relieved of being subject to gravity and move freely, have an astral body that is much more loosely connected to the physical body than the human feet. In the case of the human feet, the astral body is in a very intimate connection. One might say: In the arms, the astral body acts more through the skin from the outside in. It envelops the arms and hands, and it acts from the outside in; in a certain sense, it acts in an enveloping way. In the legs and feet, the will acts through the astral body with an extraordinarily strong centrifugal force, radiating with extraordinary intensity from the inside out. This accounts for such a significant difference between the arms and the legs. And the consequence of this is that when one massages a person’s legs and feet, one is essentially performing a completely different activity than when massaging the person’s arms and hands. When one massages a person’s arms, the massage draws the astral from the outside into the inside. As a result, the arms become, to a much greater extent than they otherwise would, instruments of the will, and this has a regulating effect on the internal metabolism that takes place between the intestines and the blood vessels. Thus, massaging the arms and hands has a greater effect on blood formation. If one massages the feet and legs more, the physical is transformed more into something of an imaginative nature, and one exerts a regulating effect on the metabolism associated with the processes of evacuation and excretion—that is, on the processes of evacuation and excretion themselves. It is precisely in this continuation of the massage’s effects—in one case, starting from the arms and acting more on the internal, constructive aspect of metabolism, and in the other case, affecting the catabolic aspect—that one sees just how complex the human organism actually is. Thus, if you examine the matter rationally, you will find that every part of the body is indeed connected to other parts of the body in some way, and that the effect of massage is based precisely on understanding this internal interaction with the organism in an appropriate manner. Massaging the lower abdomen can always have beneficial effects, even on respiratory function. It is particularly interesting that massage of the lower abdomen has a especially beneficial effect on respiratory function. Specifically, the further one moves from top to bottom—when massaging immediately below the heart region, respiration is more strongly influenced; as one moves further down, the organs of the throat are more strongly influenced. Conversely, the further down you go, the more the organs located higher up are affected when massaging the torso. On the other hand, for example, a massage of the arms is always enhanced by massaging the upper part of the torso as well. These are things that illustrate the interconnection of the individual—I would say—limbs of the human organism. We see, in fact, that this interplay between the lower and upper parts of the human being—and indeed between the various parts of the human organism, which are sometimes quite far apart but belong together—manifests itself particularly in conditions such as migraines.

[ 5 ] Migraines are, in truth, nothing more than a displacement of digestive processes—which should actually take place in the rest of the body—into the head; therefore, anything that places too great a strain on the rest of the body, such as a woman’s menstrual cycle, also affects migraines in a corresponding way. It should be noted that when digestive activity—which does not belong in the head—takes place there, the cranial nerves become somewhat burdened with a load from which they are relieved in normal life. Precisely because only a fully regulated digestive activity—that is, an absorptive activity—takes place in the head, the cranial nerves are relieved of this burden and transformed into sensory nerves. This character is taken away from them when a disordered activity, such as the one just described, takes place in the head. They therefore become internally receptive and sensitive, and the pains that occur with migraine—indeed, all these conditions—are based on this internal sensation of precisely what the inner organism should not be sensing. It is also entirely understandable how a person must feel who, instead of perceiving the environment—the external world—is suddenly forced to perceive the interior of their head. However, anyone who truly understands this condition will, when it comes to migraine, be able to recommend only the best remedy: allowing it to run its course through restful sleep or similar measures. For everything else that is usually used—or that one is sometimes forced to use—actually has a harmful effect. If you use the common, frequently employed allopathic remedies, you will merely numb this nervous system, which has become hypersensitive; in other words, you will suppress its activity. If one is afflicted with a migraine just before, say, performing in a theater production, and prefers to harm oneself rather than be unable to perform, then what I am saying here can be observed particularly clearly: the numbing of that which should not actually be numbed. Of course, such situations reveal just how extraordinarily delicate the human organism is and how, very often, one is simply compelled—by one’s social entanglements in life—to act against what the organism demands. This is, of course, entirely natural; it must not be overlooked, and one is sometimes compelled to accept harm that is simply caused by one’s social position and, if necessary, to treat its consequences, which will inevitably arise.

[ 6 ] Just how delicate this human physical constitution ultimately is becomes evident when one properly examines color and light therapy. This color and light therapy is, after all, something that should likely be given more consideration in the future than it has been in the past. It is necessary, in particular, to distinguish between the actual effect of color—which appeals entirely to the higher aspects of the human being—and the effect of light, which is simply more objective in nature and appeals to the whole human being. If one simply places a person in a room and exposes them to objective color and light, or exposes a part of them to a purely objective effect of color or light, this directly produces an effect on the organs. It is something that acts entirely from the outside upon the human being. But if one arranges the setting in such a way that what is otherwise accessed only through consciousness is somehow engaged— the color impression—the fact that the color is there—then, instead of shining colored light on the person, if I bring them into a room lined with a certain color, the effect is different: namely, one that nonetheless passes through all those organs that lie beyond the organs of consciousness. In this subjective color therapy, the ego is influenced under all circumstances, whereas in objective color therapy, the physical system is influenced and the ego is reached only indirectly through the physical system. Therefore, do not say that it is unnecessary to bring blind people into a room lined with a certain color, because they cannot form an impression and the consequence would have to be that there is actually no effect at all. That is not the case. There, the effects of the sensory realm—which I would say lie beneath the surface of the sensory—manifest themselves very strongly. Even if I bring a blind person into a room lined with red or blue, that, too, makes a difference to them. It is, therefore, a significant difference, and it must be said that when I bring a blind person into a room with blue walls, I affect them in such a way that their entire organism—its functioning—withdraws from the head toward the rest of the body. If I bring them into a room lined in red, their functioning shifts from the rest of the body toward the head. From this, however, you can see that the essence must lie in this rhythm, which is evoked when I alternate one color with another—in such an objectively colored environment. It matters less whether one places a person in a blue or a red room, but rather whether, after having had them in red, one moves them to blue, or, after having had them in blue, moves them to red. This is of fundamental importance. If, upon observing a person in general, I determine that I need to improve their overall system by strongly stimulating their mental functions, then I move them from a blue room to a red one. If I want to improve their mental functions through the rest of the organism, I move them from a red room to a blue one. These are the things that, in what I believe will be the not-too-distant future, will be very important—and in which color therapy, rather than light therapy, will play a major role.

[ 7 ] It is indeed important to allow the interplay between the conscious and the unconscious to play a role in future therapy. For in this way, one will also learn to form a sound judgment about the peculiar mode of action of—let us say—substances that affect people through baths. There is a big difference between whether something I apply to a person from the outside has an effect that makes a cold impression on the person, or whether I apply it in such a way that it makes a warm impression. The “cold” sensation should actually be understood to mean that when something has a cooling effect on me in a compress or a bath, it is essentially the substance’s effect that, when healing occurs, actually has a healing effect. In that case, it is the substance’s effect of the remedy in question. But if what is applied to me does not have a cooling effect—if, for example, a warm compress has a warming effect—then it is not the substance at all; it is almost irrelevant which substance is used; rather, it is the warming effect that matters, and for the warming effect, it ultimately makes no difference from which source it comes. Thus, in the case of cold compresses, one can always consider how to infuse the liquid—the water used for the compress—with these or those substances. These substances will be effective if they can be made effective in cold water—that is, if they are soluble at low temperatures. On the other hand, one will produce few direct effects of the substance itself—unless one is dealing specifically with essential oils, which are very strongly aromatic; in that case, it is somewhat different, as the effects of the substance are present even at high temperatures—in the case of substances that do not dissolve easily in their solid form. One will not be able to produce a therapeutic effect with warm compresses or warm baths. On the other hand, substances that are sulfurous or phosphorous—such as sulfur itself—can, when used in conjunction with a warm bath, exert their corresponding therapeutic effects precisely in that context.

[ 8 ] So the point is to take a careful look at the circumstances I have just described. And here, I would like to say, it will be very helpful for you to imagine, as it were, a kind of primordial phenomenon. It is interesting that this method of positing a kind of primordial phenomenon played a major role precisely in those times when the practice of medicine and so on was more deeply rooted in the mysteries. Back then, things were not expressed theoretically, but rather, so to speak, through primordial phenomena. For example, it was said: “If you take honey or wine internally, you strengthen from within the forces that act upon you from the cosmos.” — One could also say: In this way, you strengthen the actual ‘I’ forces, for that would be the same thing. — This is something, I would say, that makes the matter very clear. “But if you rub your body with an oily substance, you weaken within yourself the harmful effect of the actual earthly forces”—that is, the forces that oppose the “I”’s action in the organism. “And if you find the right balance between sweet strengthening from within and oily weakening from without, you will grow old,” said the ancients, the ancient physicians. “Let the harmful effects of the earth be removed from your organism through the action of the oil by rubbing yourself with it, and—if you are able, if your constitution is not too weak for it—let the ‘I’ forces be strengthened by wine or honey; then you will strengthen precisely those forces that lead you into old age.” These are the kinds of things that were meant to express the matter in its most primordial form. The intention was to guide people along the right path through facts, not through doctrinal principles. This is precisely what we must return to. For it is much easier to find one’s way among the manifold elements of the external world when one can fall back on primordial phenomena in this way, rather than on so-called abstract laws of nature, which actually fail one immediately when one attempts to approach anything concrete.

[ 9 ] Now, some primordial phenomena are incredibly easy to articulate. I would like to present such very simple primordial phenomena to you. Here is one: “Place your feet in water, and you will summon forces in your lower abdomen that promote blood production.” There you have a primal phenomenon of this kind that is very instructive. “Wash your head, and you’ll evoke forces in your lower abdomen that regulate elimination.” These are the kinds of primordial phenomena that are truly very revealing, for they embody the laws of nature and reality. The human being is present within them when I speak of such things. For, of course, these things have no meaning if I do not think of the human being, and it is of great significance that I think of the human being in all these matters.

[ 10 ] Well, that, in turn, is something that points more to the spatial interaction of forces within the human organism. But there is also a temporal interaction, and this temporal interaction becomes particularly evident, for example, when we observe a case in which a person—as a child or in early adolescence—is treated so poorly that, throughout his or her entire life, the qualities that should be developed precisely during adolescence and childhood are not cultivated, but rather those that should actually be developed only in old age. Let me put it even more clearly. Human beings are, after all, such that they develop certain forces as early as adolescence that then shape their organism. But not everything that is shaped within the organism during adolescence finds its proper application during that same period. We shape the organism in youth in order to preserve certain elements that will only become active in old age. Thus, even in childhood, certain—I would say—organs are developed, but they are not yet meant to be used during childhood; nor can old age develop them, so they remain in reserve to be used later in life. But if, for example, no consideration is given to the fact that children should be educated through imitation until they lose their baby teeth, and that from the time they lose their baby teeth onward, they should be educated and taught in a way where authority plays a major role—if this is not taken into account—then the organs that are meant to remain in reserve for old age may simply be overtaxed prematurely. Of course, today’s materialistic way of thinking might object: It can’t be that important how one uses imitation or authority. — Yet it is of immense importance, because the effect continues into the organism. I must simply take into account that the child must be fully engaged in the process of imitation with its entire soul life. The following, for example, is of great importance. Imagine that you instill in the child a certain fondness for a food by allowing the child to grow into imitating the fondness for that food that the caregiver has. In other words, you link this principle of imitation with the development of an appetite for that food; there is a continuation of the imitative impulse within the organism. The same applies later in life with regard to authority. In short, when organs—which are, of course, delicate systems—that are actually meant to remain in reserve into old age are already being overtaxed in childhood, the terrible dementia praecox arises. That is the actual cause of dementia praecox. That is why one can already say: Proper education is in itself a good remedy. And if—as we are already striving to do with the Waldorf school, though we cannot yet extend this to even earlier education, we can only do so starting at the age of six or seven—but once we place the entire educational process in the service of the knowledge that can be derived from Spiritual Science, in the sense I have described in my little book *The Education of the Child from the Standpoint of Spiritual Science*, then *dementia praecox* will indeed disappear. For by structuring education in this way, we prevent the human being from drawing on their organs of old age at an early age. This is precisely what must be said with regard to proper education.

[ 11 ] Now, there is also the opposite in life. And this opposite consists in the fact that we also preserve those bodily functions that are actually meant to develop only during youth. Throughout our entire lives, there is indeed a call upon the organs that are primarily intended for childhood and youth; but this must occur to a lesser degree, otherwise it leads to damage. This is an area where, due to a wide variety of causes, something as confusing as psychoanalysis, for example, can interfere with human thought as a whole. It is indeed true that the greatest harm is not actually caused by the very big errors—for the big errors are soon refuted—but rather by those things that contain grains of truth, for these are taken to extremes and abused.

[ 12 ] What, then, actually accounts for the emergence of a perspective that follows the path of psychoanalysis? The fact is that, due to today’s often unnatural way of life—which does not adapt people to their external environment to the extent necessary—much of what makes an impression on a person during childhood remains unprocessed. Things simply remain incorporated into the psychological life that are not incorporated into the organism in the appropriate manner. For everything that has an effect on the psyche—no matter how slight that effect may be—does in fact continue, or at least is supposed to continue, as an effect on the organism. But in the case of our children, there are many impressions that are so abnormal that they remain merely psychological impressions. They cannot be immediately transformed into organic impressions. They then continue to act as soul impressions, and instead of participating in the person’s entire development, they remain isolated soul impulses. Had they participated in the entire organic development, they would not have remained isolated soul impulses; thus, in later human life, they would not place demands on the organs that are actually intended only for old age—organs that are no longer there to process youthful impressions. This gives rise to a disharmony within the whole person. They are forced to allow these isolated soul impulses to act upon organs that are no longer suited for this purpose. This then gives rise to those phenomena that can indeed be identified through a properly applied psychoanalytic method. When one interrogates a person, one can uncover certain elements in their psychological life that simply have not been processed and that have a devastating effect on the organs that have already become too old for this processing. But the important point is that one can never arrive at a therapy through this method, only at a diagnosis. If one sticks to using psychoanalysis solely for diagnosis, then one is actually doing something that is, in a certain sense, justified—provided it is carried out tactfully—unless what I could substantiate through all sorts of little notes written to me occurs: that psychoanalysts actually use the reception staff like spies, so that, through all sorts of circumstances, they try to pry out of the waiting room staff everything they can, which they then hope to extract from the patient during the interview. This happens so frequently that, of course, there is appalling nonsense involved in all these matters. But setting that aside—and truly, in such matters it depends so very much on the moral character of the people involved—one can say: Diagnostically, there is some truth to psychoanalysis, but it is never possible to achieve therapeutic results through the methods that psychoanalysts now seek to employ. This, in turn, is connected to a phenomenon of our time.

[ 13 ] The tragedy of materialism is that it leads away from the understanding of matter; it prevents the understanding of matter. For materialism is not even as harmful to the actual understanding of the spiritual as it is to the understanding of the spiritual within the material. By suppressing the insight that spiritual effects are connected to the material everywhere—that is, by failing to seek these spiritual effects precisely within the material—so much is suppressed that must not be suppressed for a healthy view of human life. If I am a materialist, I cannot possibly attribute to matter all the properties we have just discussed in these reflections. One regards it all as nonsense to attribute to matter this or that quality that it actually possesses. In other words, one turns away from the very recognition of the material. One no longer speaks of phosphorescent phenomena, of saline phenomena, and so on, because one regards all of this as nonsense. People are moving away from the recognition of the spiritual in the material; as a result, they are also moving away from the ability to properly study the effects of forms; and above all, they are moving away from the insight that every human organ actually has a dual function—one oriented toward consciousness and one toward the opposite side, toward the purely organic process.

[ 14 ] This view has been particularly lost in an area that we will also discuss here: the assessment of teeth. From a materialistic perspective, teeth are more or less viewed as mere tools for chewing. But that is not all they are. The fact that they have a dual nature can already be seen from the fact that, when examined purely chemically, they appear to be something related to the skeletal system. But from an evolutionary perspective, they actually originate from the skin system. Teeth, in particular, have a dual nature, though their second nature is extremely well concealed. Just compare an animal’s dentition with that of a human, and you will see that what I said here in the very first lecture is expressed most strongly in the animal’s dentition—this downward-pressing force, which I sought to illustrate through the entire monkey skeleton. In the human dentition, one sees—I would say—in a certain sense, the effect of the vertical line within the teeth themselves. This is connected to the fact that, in reality, the teeth are not only chewing instruments but also very essential suction instruments; that, first, they exert a mechanical force outward, but second, that within them lies a very subtle, spiritualized suction force directed inward. So we must ask: What exactly do the teeth suck in? — They basically suck in fluoride as long as they can. The teeth suck in fluoride; they are fluoride-sucking apparatus. For humans need very small quantities of fluoride in their organism, and if they don’t have it—well, here I must say something that might shock you—then they become too clever. They become too smart. They acquire a level of intelligence that nearly destroys them. For it is precisely these effects of fluoride that bring them down to the right degree of stupidity—which we need in order to be human. We need fluoride in small quantities as a constant antidote to becoming too smart. And early tooth decay—which is an impairment of the effects of fluoride—indicates an excessive reliance on the fluoride-absorbing effect of the teeth; this suggests that the person is prompted by something—we’ll also get around to discussing such things, even if we don’t have much time for them, but we’ll discuss them—to protect themselves against stupidity. So, in a sense, they destroy their teeth so that the fluoride effect does not make them too stupid. Consider this extraordinarily subtle connection: one develops damaged teeth so as not to become too stupid. From this you can see the intimate connection between what benefits a person on the one hand, and what swings back toward what can harm a person on the other. Under certain circumstances, we need the effects of fluoride so that we do not become too clever. But we can harm ourselves by making these effects too strong; then, through our bodily functions, we ruin our teeth.

[ 15 ] These are things I would ask you to please reconsider, because they are connected to matters of extraordinary significance in the human organism.