Arthur Osborne - The Quest Begins #1

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THE QUEST BEGINS

 

It was in 1936, my thirtieth year, that the change of course

set in. It was high time, because the ship of my life, drifting

uncharted, had got into the shallows and almost run aground.

In February Catherine was born, our first child.

 

In the summer Martin Lings came to stay with us on his way back

from Lithuania, where he had just given up his job. He made

the impression on me of having grown argumentative. He tried

to prove the Renaissance had been a calamity, which, of course,

led to a historical discussion. Then he told me his outlook on

history and civilization, and indeed, on life itself, had been

totally changed by reading the works of a writer who had

complete knowledge. I objected that in modern times

knowledge is far too extensive for one man to possess it all, and

he explained that he did not mean detailed factual knowledge

but integral or essential knowledge. I did not understand what

he meant by that and he was unable to explain. Looking back

now, it seems extraordinary that he should not have been able

to tell us the simple essence of what a spiritual outlook implies:

the Oneness of Being and the possibility of Self-realization.

 

Instead he asked me to read the books for myself. This I was

not prepared to do. I was writing a novel and had no time at

present, I told him. He left two books with me, asking me to

read them when I found time, and I half promised to do so.

It was October before I got round to reading the books

Martin had left for me. The one I took up first was a book of

essays by Ouspensky. I still retained a critical mind and was by

no means prepared to accept whatever ivory tower was offered

as a refuge from a meaningless life. Some of the things he said

interested me, but I made a list of dubious statements,

contradictions and unjustified assumptions and sent it to Martin,

saying that it was not even accurate or consistent, let alone

complete knowledge. He wrote back with some humility,

accepting my criticisms, admitting that he might have been

wrong about Ouspensky, but asserting that it was the other writer

whom he meant when he spoke about writing from knowledge.

 

 

The other was one of the early books of Rene Guenon, I

think Introduction generale a l’etude des doctrines Hindoues. There

was no question of criticism this time. From the very first page I

drank it in like some one so parched with thirst that he absorbs

moisture through the very pores of his skin. When I came to the

sentence ‘Being is One’ I felt physically, in my heart, not as a

brain-thought, “This is true. I have always known it was true but

didn’t know that I knew.” That moment, a moment I still clearly

envisage, sitting alone in the room, in an armchair in my flat in

Gdynia, was the beginning of the quest which I was never again

to relinquish, from which I was never to turn aside. For Guenon

left no doubt that it was a quest. If it had been mere theory it

would have not interested me, but the implication was kept well

to the fore — Being is One; therefore you yourself cannot be

other than the One Being, because there is no other; therefore to

realize your true self is to realize the Supreme Identity with

Absolute, Universal, Eternal Being: and this can be done.

 

So life had a meaning after all! It was not a mere inane

trickle of events. My restlessness and discontent fell away. My

ambition to become a writer evaporated. The goal and purpose

of life was clear. Nevertheless a wave of caution rose up; I said to

myself: “Are you prepared to undertake this? Remember that you

are not psychic and do not have visions and ecstasy, and it means

giving up pleasures that you know to be real for pleasures that

may be real.” And immediately the answer arose in my mind: “It

is not a question of pleasure but truth; I have to follow it because

it is true; truth is its own compulsion and I have no option.”

................

 

taken from Arthur Osborne's MY LIFE & QUEST