Aesthetic Distance
“A man may say ‘I’, and never refer to himself
as an individual.”
-- Emerson
It would seem natural to draw the conclusion that the use of the first person speaking voice somehow limits the universality of the aphorism by making it subjective rather than objective. Surely, if the poet refers to himself as the subject and relates an experience that is highly personal to him, the reader automatically becomes a trespasser on a private domain.
And yet, it is not so. There are poets and writers who, by the force of their character or the depth of their own empathy, identify themselves with the experiences of others to such an extent that the manifold voices of countless human beings merge as one – and this collective voice becomes the persona of the poet. Thus the poet is able to retain his objectivity. Think of the immortal statement by Descartes, which has since become one of the cornerstones of Western philosophy: “I think, therefore I am.”
There is a breadth in Sri Chinmoy’s use of the personal pronoun which indicates the same aesthetic distance:
I see and feel
The Breath of God
Enshrined in the heart
Of every human being.
Here the poet has become an omniscient narrator, expressing an ideal vision of the intermingling of the human and the Divine. His poem is not a mere assertion, empty of personal validation, but a foreseeing of the sacred potential of humankind – to view each and every person as a portion of the Divine, to see each person without exception as a living embodiment of the very “Breath of God.”
The poet deliberately chooses not to cast the poem in a vatic mode – “I shall come to see and feel” – or even a prayerful mode – “May I see and feel.” Instead, he offers a simple statement of fact – “I see and feel.” When we read the aphorism, or repeat it aloud, this emphatic use of the present tense confers an enabling power upon the seer-poet’s vision. It becomes not merely a faint and insubstantial future wish, but an existing and even abiding reality.
The use of the first person pronoun, even when it represents this wider viewpoint, creates the impression of a greater degree of emotional involvement on the part of the poet. Somehow, it seems to humanise his lofty thoughts. This is the case with the following epigrammatic couplet:
When I do not think,
Ecstasy I drink.
This would appear to be a commentary on the axiom of Descartes, and a rebuttal of his central argument – in other words, a spiritual repartee. On the ordinary, human level, we consider a person who does not think to be a dullard, an inconscient human being. The functioning of the intelligence is, we are led to believe, what distinguishes man from other life forms.
The conundrum introduced by Sri Chinmoy is that thinking obstructs inner experience. He goes so far as to posit non-thinking as a precondition to achieving inner ecstasy. Ecstasy in this context is used in the mystical sense of communion with the Divine.
As in previous poems that centred on the contrast between the mind and the heart, Sri Chinmoy deliberately uses tactile words to reinforce his expression. Thus the verb “drink” suggests that his thirst for higher inner experiences is slaked only when thought ceases.
In the following consecutive and complementary aphorisms he uses two atmospheric adjectives to dramatise the difference between the region of the mind and that of the heart:
My mind lives
In the land
Of darkening evening.
My heart lives
In the land
Of clearing dawn.
Sri Chinmoy normally uses adjectives of scene with great restraint. He is not someone to take up words by the bushel. When such a poet uses descriptive words for a symbolic purpose, as in the two aphorisms above, they have an extremely powerful effect. He recreates the brooding melancholy of night closing in and then infuses this darkness with the rays of hope that come with the dawn. In its simple, dignified outlines, it is an exquisitely beautiful composite word-painting.
Another kind of persona that Sri Chinmoy frequently uses is that of the collective “we”. In these aphorisms, he speaks on behalf of humanity and humbly counts himself as one of those struggling for higher illumination:
We are mistaken.
Death does not and cannot
Unshackle us.
Emerson has said that “The great always introduce us to facts; small men introduce us always to themselves. The great man, even whilst he relates a private fact personal to him, is really leading us away from himself to an universal experience.”
In this poem, Sri Chinmoy is stating a foregone conclusion: “We are mistaken.” It is a bold and dramatic opening line for any poem, but one that is far more acceptable to the human ego than the accusatory “You are mistaken” or even the emotionally neutral “Mankind is mistaken.” The poet’s self-inclusion in this shared mistake is appealing. We appreciate the basic humanity and lack of egotism that prompts such an admission. It disarms us, one might venture to say, and creates in us an inner preparedness for what follows. Now the poet is able to tackle the entire question of our attitude towards death.
It is a widely held belief that death liberates us, that it “unshackles” us, to use the poet’s dramatic expression. The poet exposes this way of thinking as illusory. If we are truly bound, then the release of the body does not secure freedom. The poet compels us to examine the nature of the shackles binding us, shackles that can accompany us even beyond this life. The more we immerse ourselves in this question, the more we come to realise that we are bound by the results of our own thoughts and actions; there is no escape from the laws of karma.
Another aphorism, which might be said to be a continuation of the same probing question is:
We cannot hide
Either from God
Or from time.
Aphorisms such as this, shorn of all extra words and infused with vast meaning, reverberate with a tremendous power. We feel as if the voice of the poet is emanating from the conscience of humanity itself. The omniscient narrator has become ever-present.
The uplifting effect of Sri Chinmoy’s aphorisms is exemplified in this further example:
Grace from Above
Profusely descends
Only when we are ready
To embrace the whole world.
Here he prescribes the essential condition that has to be met before God’s Grace can descend: mankind’s readiness “To embrace the whole world.” Interestingly, Sri Chinmoy uses the word “embrace” instead of “love”. We can love one another from afar, but the verb “embrace” invokes a dynamic aspect of love. One is reminded of the story of St. Francis and the leper. If one is prepared to love the entire world, then one must also be prepared to embrace each and every human being, of whatever race or religion. Those individuals who have put this philosophy into practice are extremely rare and yet the solution Sri Chinmoy has offered is perhaps the only solution which will eventually solve the tragic differences that currently divide mankind. Within the boundaries of his aphorism, the seer-poet invokes the myriad unspoken transformations which will occur as a result of the abundant descent of God’s Grace.
In this context, I believe it is possible to say that a single aphorism, expressing an entire universe of meaning and significance, especially as it relates to a specific era, is sufficient to initiate profound change within the consciousness of human beings. We do not need an abundance of books or speeches. A mere fifteen words from someone who has attained a vision of the true nature of human existence and its underlying divine nature can affect the course of history.
Next page: Words of Wisdom
