Sadhana The Realisation of Life

temporary and partial relation to us, becoming burdensome when their utility is lost; or they are like wandering vagabonds, loitering f

so, for thus it belittles our own self. The entire world is given to us, and all our powers have

shadows, and bring it before us in its uncompromising distinction of beauty and ugliness? If that were so, then we would have had to admit that this sense

man does not accept any arbitrary and absolute limit to his knowable world. Every day his science is penetrating into the region formerly marked in his map as unexplored or inexplorable. Our sense of beau

and non-life. But as it is proceeding farther and farther the line of demarcation between the animate and inanimate is growing more and more dim. In

ts primitive lethargy, and it attains its object by the urgency of the contrast. Therefore our first acquaintance with beauty is in her dress of motley colours, that affects us with its stripes and feathers, nay, with its disfigurements. But as our acquaintance ripens, the apparent discords are resolved into modulati

so as to make it a matter of pride for a chosen few. Then it breeds in its votaries affections and exaggerations, as it did with the Brahmi

d that has been crowned by the sanction of convention. We are then tempted in defiance to exaggerate the commonness of commonplace things, thereby making them aggressively uncommon. To restore harmony we create the discords which are a feature of all reactions. We already see in the present age the sign of this ?sthetic reaction, which proves that man has at last come to know that it is only the narrownes

he system of the universe, but in our power of comprehension, as its negative element. In the same manner there is ugliness in the distorted expression of beauty in our life and in our art which comes from our imperfect reali

world the more our life shares the gladness of creation, and our expression of beauty in art becomes more truly catholic. As we become conscious of the harmony in our soul, our apprehension of the blissfulness of the spirit of the world becomes universal, and the expression of beauty in our life moves in goodness and love towards the infinite. This is the ultimate object of our

onder at the mystery of its own first utterance, lisping the same word over and over again, and listening to it in unceasing joy. When in the rainy night of July the darkness is thick upon the meadows and the pattering rain draws veil upon veil over the stillness of the slumbering earth, this monotony of the rain patter seems to be the darkness of sound itself. The gloom of the dim and dense line o

who are seers, seek to express

ding of forms, the mingling of endless lines and colours

of his brush is very far from the complete idea. And then when the work is finished the artist is gon

gathered from outside. His idea and his expression are brother and sister; very often they are born as

auty of the whole. As the material of expression even words are barriers, for their meaning has to be constructed

hen the singer departs, his singing dies with him; it i

fashioned from any outward material. It is his joy itself taking never-endi

c, which is the revelation of completion in the incomplete.

the hand meeting the string and drawing out at once all its tones at the touch? It is the langu

ught in my mind, that even when I remain unconscious in slumber the dance of life will still go on in the hushed arena of my sleeping body, keeping step with the stars. The heart wi