Part 5
PHYSICAL
CONSCIOUSNESS – SUBCONSCIENT – SLEEP AND DREEM - ILLNESS
Page
17 ,18
,19 ,20
These
dreams are not all mere dreams, all have not a casual, incoherent
or subconscious building. Many are records or transcripts of experiences
on the vital plane into which one enters in sleep, some are scenes
or events of the subtle physical plane. There one often undergoes
happenings or carries on actions that resemble those of the physical
life with the same surroundings and the same people, though usually
there is in arrangement and feature some or a considerable difference.
But it may also be a contact with other surroundings and with other
people, not known in the physical life or not belonging at all to
the physical world.
In
the waking state you are conscious only of a certain limited field
and action of your nature. In sleep you can become vividly aware
of things beyond this field—a larger mental or vital nature behind
the waking state or else a subtle physical or a subconscient nature
which contains much that is there in you but not distinguishably
active in the waking state. All these obscure tracts have to be
cleared or else there can be no change of Prakriti. You should not
allow yourself to be disturbed by the press of vital or subconscient
dreams—for these two make up the larger part of dream-experience—but
aspire to get rid of these things and of the activities they indicate,
to be conscious and reject all but the divine Truth; the more you
get that Truth and cling to it in the waking state, rejecting all
else, the more all this inferior dream-stuff will get clear.

The
dreams you describe are very clearly symbolic dreams on the vital
plane. These dreams may symbolise anything, forces at play, the
underlying structure and tissue of things done or experienced, actual
or potential happenings, real or suggested movements or changes
in the inner or outer nature.
The
timidity of which the apprehension in the dream was an indication,
was probably not anything in the conscious mind or higher vital,
but something subconscient in the lower vital nature. This part
always feels itself small and insignificant and has very easily
a fear of being submerged by the greater consciousness—a fear which
in some may amount at the first contact to something like a panic,
alarm or terror.

All
dreams of this kind are very obviously formations such as one often
meets on the vital, more rarely on the mental plane. Sometimes they
are the formations of your own mind or vital; sometimes they are
the formations of other minds with an exact or modified transcription
in yours; sometimes formations come that are made by the non-human
forces or beings of these other planes. These things are not true
and need not become true in the physical world, but they may still
have effects on the physical if they are framed with that purpose
or that tendency and, if they are allowed, they may realise their
events or their meaning—for they are most often symbolical or schematic—in
the inner or the outer life. The proper course with them is simply
to observe and understand and, if they are from a hostile source,
reject or destroy them.
There
are other dreams that have not the same character but are a representation
or transcription of things that actually happen on other planes,
in other worlds under other conditions than ours. There are, again,
some dreams that are purely symbolic and some that indicate existing
movements and propensities in us, whether familiar or undetected
by the waking mind, or exploit old memories or else raise up things
either passively stored or still active in the subconscient, a mass
of various stuff which has to be changed or got rid of as one rises
into a higher consciousness. If one learns how to interpret, one
can get from dreams much knowledge of the secrets of our nature
and of other-nature.

It
is not a right method to try to keep awake at night; the suppression
of the needed sleep makes the body tamasic and unfit for the necessary
concentration during the waking hours. The right way is to transform
the sleep and not suppress it, and especially to learn how to become
more and more conscious in sleep itself. If that is done, sleep
changes into an inner mode of consciousness in which the sadhana
can continue as much as in the waking state, and at the same time
one is able to enter into other planes of consciousness than the
physical and command an immense range of informative and utilisable
experience.

Sleep
cannot be replaced, but it can be changed; for you can become conscious
in sleep. If you are thus conscious, then the night can be utilised
for a higher working—provided the body gets its due rest; for the
object of sleep is the body's rest and the renewal of the vital-physical
force. It is a mistake to deny to the body food and sleep, as some
from an ascetic idea or impulse want to do—that only wears out the
physical support and although either the yogic or the vital energy
can long keep at work an overstrained or declining physical system,
a time comes when this drawing is no longer so easy nor perhaps
possible. The body should be given what it needs for its own efficient
working. Moderate but sufficient food (without greed or desire),
sufficient sleep, but not of the heavy tamasic kind, this
should be the rule.

The
sleep you describe in which there is a luminous silence or else
the sleep in which there is Ananda in the cells, these are obviously
the best states. The other hours, those of which you are unconscious,
may be spells of a deep slumber in which you have got out of the
physical into the mental, vital or other planes. You say you were
unconscious, but it may simply be that you do not remember what
happened; for in coming back there is a sort of turning over of
the consciousness, a transition or reversal, in which everything
experienced in sleep except perhaps the last happening of all or
else one that was very impressive, recedes from the physical consciousness
and all becomes as if a blank. There is another blank state, a state
of inertia, not only blank, but heavy and unremembering; but that
is when one goes deeply and crassly into the subconscient; this
subterranean plunge is very undesirable, obscuring, lowering, often
fatiguing rather than restful, the reverse of the luminous silence.

It
was not half sleep or quarter sleep or even one-sixteenth sleep
that you had; it was a going inside of the consciousness, which
in that state remains conscious but shut to outer things and open
only to inner experience. You must distinguish clearly between these
two quite different conditions, one is nidra, the other,
the beginning at least of samadhi (not nirvikalpa,
of course!). This drawing inside is necessary because the active
mind of the human being is at first too much turned to outward things;
it has to go inside altogether in order to live in the inner being
(inner mind, inner vital, inner physical, psychic). But with training
one can arrive at a point when one remains outwardly conscious and
yet lives in the inner being and has at will the indrawn or the
outpoured condition; you can then have the same dense immobility
and the same inpouring of a greater and purer consciousness in the
waking state as in that which you erroneously call sleep.

Physical
fatigue like this in the course of the sadhana may come from various
reasons:
1.
It may come from receiving more than the physical is ready to assimilate.
The cure is then quiet rest in conscious immobility receiving the
forces but not for any other purpose than the recuperation of the
strength and energy.
2.
It may be due to the passivity taking the form of inertia—inertia
brings the consciousness down towards the ordinary physical level
which is soon fatigued and prone to tamas. The cure here is to get
back into the true consciousness and to rest there, not in inertia.
3.
It may be due to mere overstrain of the body—not giving it enough
sleep or repose. The body is the support of the yoga, but its energy
is not inexhaustible and needs to be husbanded; it can be kept up
by drawing on the universal vital Force but that reinforcement too
has its limits. A certain moderation is needed even in the eagerness
for progress—moderation, not indifference or indolence.

Illness
marks some imperfection or weakness or else opening to adverse touches
in the physical nature and is often connected also with some obscurity
or disharmony in the lower vital or the physical mind or elsewhere.
It
is very good if one can get rid of illness entirely by faith and
yoga-power or the influx of the Divine Force. But very often this
is not altogether possible, because the whole nature is not open
or able to respond to the Force. The mind may have faith and respond,
but the lower vital and the body may not follow. Or, if the mind
and vital are ready, the body may not respond, or may respond only
partially, because it has the habit of replying to the forces which
produce a particular illness, and habit is a very obstinate force
in the material part of the nature. In such cases the use of the
physical means can be resorted to,—not as the main means, but as
a help or material support to the action of the Force. Not strong
and violent remedies, but those that are beneficial without disturbing
the body.

Attacks
of illness are attacks of the lower nature or of adverse forces
taking advantage of some weakness, opening or response in the nature,—like
all other things that come and have got to be thrown away, they
come from outside. If one can feel them so coming and get the strength
and the habit to throw them away before they can enter the body,
then one can remain free from illness. Even when the attack seems
to rise from within, that means only that it has not been detected
before it entered the subconscient; once in the subconscient, the
force that brought it rouses it from there sooner or later and it
invades the system. When you feel it just after it has entered,
it is because though it came direct and not through the subconscient,
yet you could not detect it while it was still outside. Very often
it arrives like that frontally or more often tangentially from the
side direct, forcing its way through the subtle vital envelope which
is our main armour of defence, but it can be stopped there in the
envelope itself before it penetrates the material body. Then one
may feel some effect, e.g., feverishness or a tendency to cold,
but there is not the full invasion of the malady. If it can be stopped
earlier or if the vital envelope of itself resists and remains strong,
vigorous and intact, then there is no illness; the attack produces
no physical effect and leaves no traces.
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