THOUGHT VIBRATION/FOREWORD

 

FOREWORD

In which the author has a word to say about "teachers" and "disciples,"

himself included.

 

I am in receipt of a letter from an earnest student of New Thought, who writes me that he is endeavoring to put into practice the teachings for which I stand. That is all right—I think he will get some good out of the practice (I know that I do). But here is where the trouble comes in—he goes on to say that he is "a faithful disciple" of mine, and is content to "sit at the feet of the Teacher". Now, if you will pardon the slang, I must say that such talk "makes me tired" I wish no "disciples"—disciples are mere parrots repeating what one says—mere human sheep trotting along after some conceited old bell-wether. I do not wish to pose as a bell-wether, nor do I wish a flock of human sheep trotting after me. I want everyone of my fellow students of Mental Science to be his own bell-wether. I like comradeship and mutual help—the help of interdependence. But I don't like this talk of master and disciple—of leader and follower—this talk and idea of dependence.

As for sitting at anyone's feet, the idea arouses all the spirit of independence within me. I don't want to sit at any one's feet—and I don't want any one to sit at mine. I am willing, and often glad, to listen to some teacher and to pick from his teachings such bits of truth as my mind is ready to receive. I am willing to say "I don't know," and to accept from others that which appeals to me as truth; not because the other says that it is truth, but because my mind recognizes it as such. I take my own wherever I find it, because I recognize it as mine. I know that all students and teachers get their knowledge from the only source of supply—they can't get it from anywhere else. And if some other fellow happens to see a particular bit of truth before I do, I gladly accept a portion of it from his hands, be he king or beggar; while if I happen to see the thing first, I will gladly share it with all who are ready for it, and who may want it, without feeling that I am a "leader," or "teacher," or that they are "followers" or "disciples." We are all fellow students—that's all. I recognize no man as my master—and I spurn the person who would call me "Master," if there be any so foolish. This feet-sitting talk makes me very, very weary.

I am fully aware that certain teachers convey the idea that they are chosen mouthpieces of the Infinite, and that all true teachings must bear their hall-mark. And I also know the fanatical devotion and bigotry that many of the followers of such teachers manifest. But this is all child's play. The teachers sooner or later will be brought up against good hard stone walls, and their heads will be bruised until they realize "just where they are at." And the "disciples" will have some individuality knocked into them later on, and will be made to stand upon their own feet, by reason of the props being knocked from under them. The New Thought aims at making individuals, not at converting people into droves of sheep, following the tinkle of the bell of some conceited old bell-wether, who imagines that he is the Whole Thing.

The growing soul must realize that it has within itself all that it requires. It may gladly accept from others suggestions, advice, bits of knowledge, and the like, as it goes along—the soul itself being the only judge of what it requires at each particular stage. But, in the end, it must do its own work, and must stand on its own feet. All the teachings in the world will not help you, unless you take hold of the matter yourself and work out your own salvation. You cannot get true mental or spiritual teaching by simply paying so much for a course of lessons, and doing nothing yourself. You must bring something to the teacher before you can take anything away. You must work up to an understanding before the teachings of another will do you any good.

The teacher may make a suggestion that will open up a line of thought for you, or he may point out a way that has proved of value to him; and thus save you much time and trouble. But you must do the real work yourself.

A teacher may be so filled with the truth that he will overflow, and you will get some of the overflow. I believe that truth is "catching." But even so, unless you make that truth your own by living it out, and applying it to your needs, it will do you no good. And so long as you are content to "sit at his feet," and do the "disciple" act, you will not grow one inch. You will be merely a reflection of the teacher, instead of being an individual.

We need a jogging up on this point every once in a while, "lest we forget."

It is so easy to have your thoughts predigested for you by some teacher or writer—so easy to receive your teaching in capsules. It is so nice to be able to sit down and swallow the tabloid that the teacher or writer kindly has prepared for you, and imagine that you are getting the real thing. But I tell you, friends—it won't do the work. Imbibe all the teachings you please, but you have got to get down to business yourself. You can't give some one else a power of attorney to do the work in your place. Life accepts no substitutes—you must step out yourself. It is mighty easy—this idea of paying so much, in time or money, to some teacher or writer, and then sneaking into the Kingdom of Heaven holding on to his skirts—but it won't work. You've got to do some hustling on your own account, and don't you make any mistake about this fact.

Many of you are running around after teachers, preachers, prophets, seers, "illuminated souls," and what not, expecting that your little fee for courses of lessons, private teachings, and all the rest, is going to land you right up in the front rank. Don't you believe a word of it. You've got to go through the motions yourself, before you will attain anything. You can't sneak in that way—it won't work. I look around me and see many of these poor creatures "sitting at the feet" of some one or other, sinking their individuality in that of the teacher, and not daring to think an original thought—lest it conflict with some notion of their "Master."

These good souls are so full of the teaching they are imbibing, they will repeat it by the yard, phrase after phrase, like a well-trained parrot. But they don't understand a bit of it. They are like the moon which shines by reason of the reflection of the sun's rays, and has no light or heat of its own. The talk of these "disciples" and "sitters-at-the-feet" is nothing but moonshine—mere reflected light. Moons are dead, cold things—no light—no heat—no fire—no energy. Dead, dead, dead—cold, barren and "played-out." Stop this moon business and build yourself up into a Sun.

You have it in you—manifest it. Start yourself in motion, and manifest Life. Don't suppose that you must be able to solve all the Riddles of the Universe before you can do anything. Never mind about those riddles, just you get down to the task that lies ahead of you, and throw into it some of that Great Life Principle that is within you waiting for a chance to manifest itself. Don't make the mistake of supposing that this or that teacher has solved the Great Riddle. If he says he has, he is only bluffing and whistling to keep up courage. He may have found a good-sized chunk of the truth, and if he is willing to pass you a bit of it, all right, but he hasn't the Whole Thing, by a mighty sight. The Whole Thing isn't placing itself in the exclusive control of any little bit of itself. No one has a monopoly of knowing—a corner on the Truth. It is yours as much as anybody's—but you must dig for it.

Don't bother about the theories, or the unsolvable riddles—just get down to business and begin to Live. Sometimes I amuse myself by reading some of the theories and "explanations" of those who think that they have hold of the Whole Thing. After I get through with the theories of one "dead-sure" chap, I take up the directly opposite theories of another fellow who considers himself the special mouthpiece of the Absolute.

Whew! it's a great brain-shaker. If you're not careful you will find yourself being served a nice dish of scrambled brains. When I get sort of "stewed-up" over such things I go out into the sun and fall back on the "Laughing Philosophy," which soon brings me around all right. Nothing will puncture these bubbles so quickly as a good dose of Laughter.

Laughter is the only thing that keeps the race from madness. The sense of humor is God's best gift to Man. Try it the next time you get "stewed up" with "high statements," "basic truths," "axiomatic principles."

Beware of any teachings that will not stand the test of the sunny out-of-doors, and the application of the Laughing Philosophy. Shun the teachings that require a pursed-up mouth, and a strained, preternaturally sober face. Have nothing to do with teachings that require a dim, dark, sunless room to be absorbed in—beware of teachings and doctrines that bear the musty smell of the cell upon them.

Carry out into the sun the teachings that are offered you, and see whether or not they fade— apply the chemical of laughter, and ascertain whether the stuff bleaches. Remember this test when you are perplexed or worried over some strange theory or doctrine—no matter from whence it comes. If anyone tells you that which will not bear the test—discard the teaching, for it is spurious in that event. Try this on my writings along with the others.

Stop being moons. Stop living by reflected light. Get into action and convert yourself into a living sun. You can do it. It is within your power.

Every human soul contains within it the elements of the Sun—get to work and express yourself. Stiffen up your backbone and hold your head erect. Don't be afraid to say "I am it."

This is a straight-from-the-shoulder talk. Don't tell me that you are "disciples" of mine—I disown you; I refuse to have disciples. Don't try to "sit at my feet"—if you do, I will use my feet to push you off the platform. I need room to swing my feet about and don't want people sitting there.

But if you wish to call me "Brother," or "Fellow Student," or "Schoolmate in the Kindergarten of God," I will be glad to have you do so. That's all we are, after all—little babes tugging away at the breast of the Absolute.

 

William Walker Atkinson.