G. began the next talk as follows: "Man's possibilities are very great.
You cannot conceive even a shadow of what man is capable of attaining. But
nothing can be attained in sleep. In the consciousness of a sleeping man his
illusions, his 'dreams' are mixed with reality. He lives in a subjective
world and he can never escape from it. And this is the reason why he can
never make use of all the powers he possesses and why he always lives in
only a small part of himself.
"It has been said before that self-study and self-observation, if rightly
conducted, bring man to the realization of the fact that something is wrong
with his machine and with his functions in their ordinary state. A man
realizes that it is precisely because he is asleep that he lives and works
in a small part of himself. It is precisely for this reason that the vast
majority of his possibilities remain unrealized, the vast majority of his
powers are left unused. A man feels that he does not get out of life all
that it can give him, that he fails to do so owing to definite functional
defects in his machine, in his receiving apparatus. The idea of self-study
acquires in his eyes a new meaning. He feels that possibly it may not even
be worth while studying himself as he is now. He sees every function as it
is now and as it could be or ought to be. Self-observation brings man to the
realization of the necessity for self-change. And in observing him self a
man notices that self-observation itself brings about certain changes in his
inner processes. He begins to understand that self-observation is an
instrument of selfchange, a means of awakening. By observing himself he
throws, as it were, a ray of light onto his inner processes which have
hitherto worked in complete darkness. And under the influence of this light
the processes themselves begin to change. There are a great many chemical
processes that can take place only in the absence of light. Exactly in the
same way many psychic processes can take place only in the dark. Even a
feeble light of consciousness is enough to change completely the character
of a process, while it makes many of them altogether impossible. Our inner
psychic processes (our inner alchemy) have much in common with those
chemical processes in which light changes the character of the process and
they are subject to analogous laws.
"When a man comes to realize the necessity not only for self-study and self
observation but also for work on himself with the object of changing
himself, the character of his self-observation must change. He has so far
studied the details of the work of the centers, trying only to register this
or that phenomenon, to be an impartial witness. He has studied the work of
the machine. Now he must begin to see himself, that is to say, to see, not
separate details, not the work of small wheels and levers, but to see
everything taken together as a whole-the whole of himself such as others see
him.
"For this purpose a man must learn to take, so to speak, 'mental
photographs' of himself at different moments of his life and in different
emotional states: and not photographs of details, but photographs of the
whole as he saw it. In other words these photographs must contain
simultaneously everything that a man can see in himself at a given moment.
Emotions, moods, thoughts, sensations, postures, movements, tones of voice,
facial expressions, and so on. If a man succeeds in seizing interesting
moments for these photographs he will very soon collect a whole album of
pictures of himself which, taken together, will show him quite clearly what
he is. But it is not so easy to learn how to take these photographs at the
most interesting and characteristic moments, how to catch characteristic
postures, characteristic facial expressions, characteristic emotions, and
characteristic thoughts. If the photographs are taken successfully and if
there is a sufficient number of them, a man will see that his usual
conception of himself, with which he has lived from year to year, is very
far from reality.
"Instead of the man he had supposed himself to be he will see quite another
man. This 'other' man is himself and at the same time not himself. It is he
as other people know him, as he imagines himself and as he appears in his
actions, words, and so on; but not altogether such as he actually is. For a
man himself knows that there is a great deal that is unreal, invented, and
artificial in this other man whom other people know and whom he knows
himself. You must learn to divide the real from the invented. And to begin
self-observation and self-study it is necessary to divide oneself. A man
must realize that he indeed consists of two men.
"One is the man he calls 'I' and whom others call 'Ouspensky,' 'Zakharov' or
'Petrov.' The other is the real he, the real I, which appears in his life
only for very short moments and which can become firm and permanent only
after a very lengthy period of work.
"So long as a man takes himself as one person he will never move from where
he is. His work on himself starts from the moment when he begins to feel two
men in himself. One is passive and the most it can do is to register or
observe what is happening to it. The other, which calls itself 'I,' is
active, and speaks of itself in the first person, is in reality only
'Ouspensky,' 'Petrov' or 'Zakharov.'
"This is the first realization that a man can have. Having begun to think
correctly he very soon sees that he is completely in the power of his
'Ouspensky,' 'Petrov,' or 'Zakharov.' No matter what he plans or what he
intends to do or say, it is not 'he,' not 'I,' that will carry it out, do or
say it, but his 'Ouspensky' 'Petrov,' or 'Zakharov,' and of course they will
do or say it, not in the way 'I' would have done or said it, but in their
own way with their own shade of meaning, and often this shade of meaning
completely changes what 'I' wanted to do.
"From this point of view there is a very definite danger arising from the
very first moment of self-observation. It is 'I' who begins self-
observation, but it is immediately taken up and continued by 'Ouspensky,'
'Zakharov,' or 'Petrov.' But 'Ouspensky' 'Zakharov,' or 'Petrov' from the
very first steps introduces a slight alteration into this self-observation,
an alteration which seems to be quite unimportant but which in reality
fundamentally alters the whole thing.
"Let us suppose, for example, that a man called Ivanov hears the description
of this method of self-observation. He is told that a man must divide
himself, 'he' or 'I' on one side and 'Ouspensky,' 'Tetrov,' or 'Zakharov' on
the other side. And he divides himself literally as he hears it. 'This is
I,' he says, 'and that is "Ouspensky," "Petrov," or "Zakharov."' He will
never say 'Ivanov.' He finds that unpleasant, so he will inevitably use
somebody else's surname or Christian name. Moreover he calls 'I' what he
likes in himself or at any rate what he considers to be strong, while he
calls 'Ouspensky,' 'Petrov,' or 'Zakharov' what he does not like or what he
considers to be weak. On this basis he begins to reason in many ways about
himself, quite wrongly of course from the very beginning, since he has
already deceived himself in the most important point and has taken not his
real self, that is, he has taken, not Ivanov, but the imaginary 'Ouspensky,'
'Petrov' or 'Zakharov.'
"It is difficult even to imagine how often a man dislikes to use his own
name in speaking of himself in the third person. He tries to avoid it in
every possible way. He calls himself by another name, as in the instance
just mentioned; he devises an artificial name for himself, a name by which
nobody ever has or ever will call him, or he calls himself simply 'he,' and
so on. In this connection people who are accustomed in their mental
conversations to call themselves by their Christian name, or surname or by
pet names are no exception. When it comes to self-observation they prefer to
call themselves 'Ouspensky' or to say 'Ouspensky in me,' as though there
could be an 'Ouspensky' in them. There is quite enough of 'Ouspensky' for
Ouspensky himself.
"But when a man understands his helplessness in the face of 'Ouspensky' his
attitude towards himself and towards 'Ouspensky' in him ceases to be either
indifferent or unconcerned.
"Self-observation becomes observation of 'Ouspensky' A man understands that
he is not 'Ouspensky,' that 'Ouspensky' is nothing but the mask he wears,
the part that he unconsciously plays and which unfortunately he cannot stop
playing, a part which rules him and makes him do and say thousands of stupid
things, thousands of things which he would never do or say himself.
"If he is sincere with himself he feels that he is in the power of
'Ouspensky' and at the same time he feels that he is not 'Ouspensky.'
"He begins to be afraid of 'Ouspensky,' begins to feel that he is his
'enemy.' No matter what he would like to do, everything is intercepted and
altered by 'Ouspensky.' 'Ouspensky' is his 'enemy.' 'Ouspensky's' desires,
tastes, sympathies, antipathies, thoughts, opinions, are either opposed to
his own views, feelings, and moods, or they have nothing in common with
them. And, at the same time, 'Ouspensky' is his master. He is the slave. He
has no will of his own. He has no means of expressing his desires because
whatever he would like to do or say would be done for him by 'Ouspensky.'
"On this level of self-observation a man must understand that his whole aim
is to free himself from 'Ouspensky.' And since he cannot in fact free
himself from 'Ouspensky,' because he is himself, he must therefore master
'Ouspensky' and make him do, not what the 'Ouspensky' of the given moment
wants, but what he himself wants to do. From being the master, 'Ouspensky'
must become the servant.
"The first stage of work on oneself consists in separating oneself from
'Ouspensky' mentally, in being separated from him in actual fact, in keeping
apart from him. But the fact must be borne in mind that the whole attention
must be concentrated upon 'Ouspensky' for a man is unable to explain what he
himself really is. But he can explain 'Ouspensky' to himself and with this
he must begin, remembering at the same time that he is not 'Ouspensky,'
"The most dangerous thing in this case is to rely on one's own judgment. If
a man is lucky he may at this time have someone near him who can tell him
where he is and where 'Ouspensky' is. But he must moreover trust this
person, because he will undoubtedly think that he understands everything
himself and that he knows where he is and where 'Ouspensky' is. And not only
in relation to himself but in relation also to other people will he think
that he knows and sees their 'Ouspenskys.' All this is of course self-
deception. At this stage a man can see nothing either in relation to
himself or to others. The more convinced he is that he can, the more he is
mistaken. But if he can be even to a slight extent sincere with himself and
really wants to know the truth, then he can find an exact and infallible
basis for judging rightly first about himself and then about other people.
But the whole point lies in being sincere with oneself. And this is by no
means easy. People do not understand that sincerity must be learned. They
imagine that to be sincere or not to be sincere depends upon their desire or
decision. But how can a man be sincere with himself when in actual fact he
sincerely does not see what he ought to see in himself? Someone has to show
it to him. And his attitude towards the person who shows him must be a right
one, that is, such as will help him to see what is shown him and not, as
often happens, hinder him if he begins to think that he already knows
better.
"This is a very serious moment in the work. A man who loses his direction at
this moment will never find it again afterwards. It must be remembered that
man such as he is does not possess the means of distinguishing 'I' and
'Ouspensky' in himself. Even if he tries to, he will lie to himself and
invent things, and he will never see himself as he really is. It must be
understood that without outside help a man can never see himself.
"In order to know why this is so you must remember a great deal of what has
been said earlier. As was said earlier, self-observation brings a man to the
realization of the fact that he does not remember himself. Man's inability
to remember himself is one of the chief and most characteristic features of
his being and the cause of everything else in him. The inability to remember
oneself finds expression in many ways. A man does 'not remember his
decisions, he does not remember the promises lie has made to himself, does
not remember what he said or felt a month, a week, a day, or even an hour
ago. He begins work of some kind and after a certain lapse of time he does
not remember why he began it. It is especially in connection with work on
oneself that this happens particularly often. A man can remember a promise
given to another person only with the help of artificial associations,
associations which have been educated into him, and they, in their turn, are
connected with conceptions which are also artificially created of 'honor,'
'honesty,' 'duty,' and so on. But speaking in general one can say truthfully
that if a man remembers one thing he forgets ten other things which are much
more important for him to remember. And a man particularly easily forgets
what relates to himself, those 'mental photographs' of himself which perhaps
he has previously taken.
"And this deprives man's views and opinions of any stability and precision.
A man does not remember what he has thought or what he has said; and he does
not remember how he thought or how he spoke.
"This in its turn is connected with one of the fundamental characteristics
of man's attitude towards himself and to all his surroundings. Namely, his
constant 'identification' with what at a given moment has attracted his
attention, his thoughts or his desires, and his imagination.
" 'Identification' is so common a quality that for purposes of observation
it is difficult to separate it from everything else. Man is always in a
state of identification, only the object of identification changes.
"A man identifies with a small problem which confronts him and he completely
forgets the great aims with which he began his work. He identifies with one
thought and forgets other thoughts; he is identified with one feeling, with
one mood, and forgets his own wider thoughts, emotions, and moods. In work
on themselves people are so much identified with separate aims that they
fail to see the wood for the trees. Two or three trees nearest to them
represent for them the whole wood.
"'Identifying' is one of our most terrible foes because it penetrates
everywhere and deceives a man at the moment when it seems to him that he is
struggling with it. It is especially difficult to free oneself from
identifying because a man naturally becomes more easily identified with the
things that interest him most, to which he gives his time, his work, and his
attention. In order to free himself from identifying a man must be
constantly on guard and be merciless with himself, that is, he must not be
afraid of seeing all the subtle and hidden forms which identifying takes.
"It is necessary to see and to study identifying to its very roots in
oneself. The difficulty of struggling with identifying is still further
increased by the fact that when people observe it in themselves they
consider it a very good trait and call it 'enthusiasm,' 'zeal,' 'passion,'
'spontaneity,' 'inspiration,' and names of that kind, and they consider that
only in a state of identifying can a man really produce good work, no matter
in what sphere. In reality of course this is illusion. Man cannot do
anything sensible when he is in a state of identifying. If people could see
what the state of identifying means they would alter their opinion. A man
becomes a thing, a piece of flesh; he loses even the small semblance of a
human being that he has. In the East where people smoke hashish and other
drugs it often happens that a man becomes so identified with his pipe that
he begins to consider he is a pipe himself. This is not a joke but a fact.
He actually becomes a pipe. This is identifying. And for this, hashish or
opium are entirely unnecessary. Look at people in shops, in theaters, in
restaurants; or see how they identify with words when they argue about
something or try to prove something, particularly something they do not know
themselves. They become greediness, desires, or words; of themselves nothing
remains.
"Identifying is the chief obstacle to self-remembering. A man who identifies
with anything is unable to remember himself. In order to remember oneself it
is necessary first of all not to identify. But in order to learn not to
identify man must first of all not be identified with himself, must not call
himself 'I' always and on all occasions. He must remember that there are two
in him, that there is himself that is 'I' in him, and there is another with
whom he must struggle and whom he must conquer if he wishes at any time to
attain anything. So long as a man identifies or can be identified, he is the
slave of everything that can happen to him. Freedom is first of all freedom
from identification.
"After general forms of identification attention must be given to a
particular form of identifying, namely identifying with people, which takes
the form of 'considering' them.
"There are several different kinds of 'considering.'
"On the most prevalent occasions a man is identified with what others think
about him, how they treat him, what attitude they show towards him. He
always thinks that people do not value him enough, are not sufficiently
polite and courteous. All this torments him, makes him think and suspect and
lose an immense amount of energy on guesswork, on suppositions, develops in
him a distrustful and hostile attitude towards people. How somebody looked
at him, what somebody thought of him, what somebody said of him-all this
acquires for him an immense significance.
"And he 'considers' not only separate persons but society and historically
constituted conditions. Everything that displeases such a man seems to him
to be unjust, illegal, wrong, and illogical. And the point of departure for
his judgment is always that these things can and should be changed.
'Injustice' is one of the words in which very often considering hides
itself. When a man has convinced himself that he is indignant with some
injustice, then for him to stop considering would mean 'reconciling himself
to injustice.'
"There are people who are able to consider not only injustice or the failure
of others to value them enough but who are able to consider for example the
weather. This seems ridiculous but it is a fact. People are able to consider
climate, heat, cold, snow, rain; they can be irritated by the weather, be
indignant and angry with it. A man can take everything in such a personal
way as though everything in the world had been specially arranged in order
to give him pleasure or on the contrary to cause him inconvenience or
unpleasantness.
"All this and much else besides is merely a form of identification. Such
considering is wholly based upon 'requirements.' A man inwardly 're-quires'
that everyone should see what a remarkable man he is and that they should
constantly give expression to their respect, esteem, and admiration for him,
for his intellect, his beauty, his cleverness, his wit, his presence of
mind, his originality, and all his other qualities. Requirements in their
turn are based on a completely fantastic notion about themselves such as
very often occurs with people of very modest appearance. Various writers,
actors, musicians, artists, and politicians, for instance, are almost
without exception sick people. And what are they suffering from? First of
all from an extraordinary' opinion of themselves, then from requirements,
and then from considering, that is, being ready and prepared beforehand to
take offense at lack of understanding and lack of appreciation.
"There is still another form of considering which can take a great deal of
energy from a man. This form starts with a man beginning to think that he is
not considering another person enough, that this other person is offended
with him for not considering him sufficiently. And he begins to think
himself that perhaps he does not think enough about this other, does not pay
him enough attention, does not give way to him enough. All this is simply
weakness. People are afraid of one another. But this can lead very far. I
have seen many such cases. In this way a man can finally lose his balance,
if at any time he had any, and begin to perform entirely senseless actions.
He gets angry with himself and feels that it is stupid, and he cannot stop,
whereas in such cases the whole point is precisely 'not to consider.'
"It is the same case, only perhaps worse, when a man considers that in his
opinion he 'ought' to do something when as a matter of fact he ought not to
do so at all. 'Ought' and 'ought not' is also a difficult subject, that is,
difficult to understand when a man really 'ought' and when he 'ought not.'
This can be approached only from the point of view of 'aim.' When a man has
an aim he 'ought' to do only what leads towards his aim and he 'ought not'
to do anything that hinders him from going towards his aim.
"As I have already said, people very often think that if they begin to
struggle with considering within themselves it will make them 'insincere'
and they are afraid of this because they think that in this event they will
be losing something, losing a part of themselves. In this case the same
thing takes place as in attempts to struggle against the outward expression
of unpleasant emotions. The sole difference is that in one case a man
struggles with the outward expression of emotions and in the other case with
an inner manifestation of perhaps the same emotions.
"This fear of losing sincerity is of course self-deception, one of those
formulas of lying upon which human weaknesses are based. Man cannot help
identifying and considering inwardly and he cannot help expressing his
unpleasant emotions, simply because he is weak. Identifying, considering,
the expressing of unpleasant emotions, are manifestations of his weakness,
his impotence, his inability to control himself. But not wishing to
acknowledge this weakness to himself, he calls it 'sincerity' or 'honesty'
and he tells himself that he does not want to struggle against sincerity,
whereas in fact he is unable to struggle against his weaknesses.
"Sincerity and honesty are in reality something quite different. What a man
calls 'sincerity' in this case is in reality simply being unwilling to
restrain himself. And deep down inside him a man is aware of this. But he
lies to himself when he says that he does not want to lose sincerity.
"So far I have spoken of internal considering. It would be possible to bring
forward many more examples. But you must do this yourselves, that is, you
must seek these examples in your observations of yourselves and of others.
"The opposite of internal considering and what is in part a means of
fighting against it is external considering. External considering is based
upon an entirely different relationship towards people than internal
considering. It is adaptation towards people, to their understanding, to
their requirements. By considering externally a man does that which makes
life easy for other people and for himself. External considering requires a
knowledge of men, an understanding of their tastes, habits, and prejudices.
At the same time external considering requires a great power over oneself, a
great control over oneself. Very often a man desires sincerely to express or
somehow or other show to another man what he really thinks of him or feels
about him. And if he is a weak man he will of course give way to this desire
and afterwards justify himself and say that he did not want to lie, did not
want to pretend, he wanted to be sincere. Then he convinces himself that it
was the other man's fault. He really wanted to consider him, even to give
way to him, not to quarrel, and so on. But the other man did not at all want
to consider him so that nothing could be done with him. It very often
happens that a man begins with a blessing and ends with a curse. He begins
by deciding not to consider and afterwards blames other people for not
considering him. This is an example of how external considering passes into
internal considering. But if a man really remembers himself he understands
that another man is a machine just as he is himself. And then he will enter
into his position, he will put himself in his place, and he will be really
able to understand and feel what another man thinks and feels. If he can do
this his work becomes easier for him. But if he approaches a man with his
own requirements nothing except new internal considering can ever be
obtained from it.
"Right external considering is very important in the work. It often happens
that people who understand very well the necessity of external considering
in life do not understand the necessity of external considering in the work;
they decide that just because they are in the work they have the right not
to consider. Whereas in reality, in the work, that is, for a man's own
successful work, ten times more external considering is necessary than in
life, because only external considering on his part shows his valuation of
the work and his understanding of the work; and success in the work is
always proportional to the valuation and understanding of it. Remember that
work cannot begin and cannot proceed on a level lower than that of the
obyvatel,1 that is, on a level lower than ordinary life. This is a very
important principle which, for some reason or other, is very easily
forgotten. But we will speak about this separately afterwards."
