The Great Rebellion: The Psychological I
The Psychological I
This question of the me, myself, of what I am, of that which thinks, feels, and acts, is something that we must explore within ourselves in order for us to gain profound knowledge.
Everywhere there are lovely theories which attract and fascinate us. However, they are of no use at all if we do not know ourselves.
It is fascinating to study astronomy or to amuse ourselves somewhat reading serious works. Nevertheless, it is ironic to become erudite and not know anything about the me, myself, about the “I,” about the human personality we possess.
Everyone is very free to think whatever they please and the subjective reasoning of the “intellectual animal”—mistakenly called a human being—can manage to do anything. Just as it can make a mountain out of a molehill, it can make a molehill out of a mountain. There are many intellectuals who constantly toy with rationalism, but in the end, what good does it do?
To be scholarly does not mean to be wise. Learned ignoramuses are as abundant as weeds. Not only do they not know, but they are not even aware they do not know.
Learned ignoramuses are those know-it-alls who believe they know everything and who indeed do not even know themselves.
We could theorize splendidly on the psychological I, but that is not exactly what interests us in this chapter.
We need to know ourselves directly as we are, without involving a depressing process of “options.”
This would in no way be possible unless we were to observe ourselves in action from instant to instant, from moment to moment.
This is not a matter of seeing ourselves through theories or by simple intellectual speculation.
We are interested in seeing ourselves directly as we are; this is the only way we will be able to gain true knowledge of ourselves.
Although it might seem incredible, we are mistaken with regard to ourselves.
Many things we believe we have, we do not have, and many things that we do not believe we have, we do.
We have formed false concepts about ourselves, and we must, therefore, do an inventory to find out what we have too much of and what we lack.
We assume that we have such and such qualities, which indeed we do not, and we are surely ignorant of many virtues that we do possess.
We are asleep, unconscious, and that is very serious. Unfortunately, we think the best of ourselves and never even suspect that we are asleep.
The Holy Scriptures insist on the need to awaken, but do not explain the system to achieve this awakening.
Worst of all, there are many who have read the Holy Scriptures and still do not understand that they are asleep.
Everyone believes that they know themselves and do not have even the faintest idea that there exists a Doctrine of the Many.
Indeed, each person’s psychological “I” is multiple; it always consists of many.
By this we mean that we have many selves and not just one, as is always assumed by learned ignoramuses.
To deny the Doctrine of the Many is to make fools of ourselves. In fact, it is the height of absurdity to ignore the intimate contradictions which each of us possess.
“I am going to read a newspaper,” says the “I” of intellect. “To heck with reading,” exclaims the “I” of movement, “I prefer to ride my bicycle.” “Forget it,” shouts a third ego in disagreement, “I’d rather eat, I’m hungry.”
If we could see ourselves in a full-length mirror, just as we are, we would discover for ourselves directly the Doctrine of the Many.
The human personality is only a marionette controlled by invisible strings.
The ego which swears eternal love for Gnosis is later replaced by another which has nothing to do with the pledge; then the individual leaves.
The “I” which swears eternal love for one woman is later replaced by another one which has nothing to do with that oath. Then the person falls in love with another woman, and like a house of cards it all collapses.
The “intellectual animal” mistakenly called human being is like a house filled with many people.
There is no order or agreement among the multiple I’s; they all quarrel with each other and fight for supremacy. When one of them gains control of the capital centers of the organic machine, it feels unique, a master. Nevertheless, in the end it is overthrown.
Considering the matter from this point of view, we come to the logical conclusion that the “intellectual mammal” does not have a true sense of moral responsibility.
Undoubtedly, whatever the machine says or does at a given time depends exclusively on the type of ego in control at that moment.
It is said that Jesus of Nazareth drove out seven demons, seven egos, from the body of Mary Magdalene, living personifications of the seven capital sins.
Obviously, each of these seven demons is the head of a legion. Therefore, we can establish as a natural consequence that the intimate Christ was able to expel thousands of egos from the body of Mary Magdalene.
Reflecting upon all this we can clearly infer that the only worthwhile part of us is the Essence which, tragically, is trapped within these multiple I’s of the revolutionary psychology.
Unfortunately, the Essence is always limited in its processes by virtue of its own imprisonment.
Without question the Essence—or consciousness, which is the same thing—sleeps deeply.