The Spiritual and the Therapeutic:
Spirituality for the Twenty-First Century?

I started being interested in personal growth about the same time that I began on a spiritual path twenty years ago. At that time, like so many others, I was diving into co-counselling and Gestalt and bioenergetics and dance therapy with all the buzz of exploration and discovery. But on another level, almost from idle curiosity, I fell into a most extraordinary spiritual system. Twenty years on, I can look back on further voyages into therapy, through training, through Jungian analysis, and through practising and teaching psychotherapy myself. Much of those ebullient and exciting discoveries have passed and in a way settled. But the spiritual path I stumbled on so casually has gone on revealing more and more, confronting my core more and more, stripping away and introducing me to qualities of feeling and inner landscapes of a beauty and subtlety I would never have imagined. For a long time, both ways seemed to work in parallel and interweave. The cathartic and therapeutic work taught me to face pain, to open, to stay with the process and to become alert to body and feeling. The spiritual somehow carried me in vulnerable moments, allowing me to give up attachments to illusions and perhaps gave a sense of momentum and depth.

The path I came across is not well known. It is a form of Raj Yoga with its roots in ancient times in India. But in this form, called Sahaj Marg, which means Natural or Simple Way, the approach is designed to meet the demands that humanity faces in the late part of the twentieth century. Whereas many spiritual paths from the East are shaped in cultural forms that belong to earlier times, this path is intended to mesh with the complex and busy lives we lead. Therefore it does not encourage escape to mountain or forest, maintaining that the best spiritual training is living ordinary life in the midst of relationships and families. The aim is to find a balance between spiritual and material. Obviously we need both wings to fly!

The other unusual aspect of this path is that the founder, Lalaji, who lived in northern India at the end of the nineteenth century, discovered an extraordinary possibility that had been lost for thousands of years. This possibility was that divine essence, of the subtlest level beyond energy, could be transmitted from a capable guide who had reached a very advanced spiritual level to anyone across time and space. This meant that, for one thing, aspirants within the practice do not actually have to go and be in the physical presence of the guide in order to receive immense help in their spiritual development. Secondly, such a level of transmission means that practitioners do not have to be "good" at meditating, or go through years and years of ascetic and mental practices in order to advance. When people start in this system, they can usually feel some kind of very fine and subtle vibration affecting their system, and sometimes enabling a deep absorption in meditation very early on. All that is asked initially of anyone who tries is a willingness to sit for half an hour--even if you think about the shopping and last night's East Enders! Over time thoughts become more background.

The focus of meditation in this system is the heart. We have the supposition that divine light is in the heart--not visualising especially. The idea behind this is that what we seek in spiritual life is a merging with the divine within us. This is really beyond any mental conception or words. So we meditate on the most subtle idea that we can hold mentally--and this is in keeping with the principles of Raj Yoga (Yoga of the mind), that we reach more and more fine levels of being at the most subtle vibration. The other element is close to Sufi ideas about the importance of the heart in human and spiritual development. It is the heart that is at the centre of our physical system and traditionally the seat of the soul. Sufis say that heart and mind are not separate, but heart is just a deeper aspect of mind. The only thing that gets in the way of us feeling the presence of the divine more acutely is the fact that we have layers of impressions--like threads and cobwebs wrapped around our soul/heart. These impressions are caused by our identifications with feelings and longings and pains and involvements, and they leave traces. These traces, which in Indian philosophy are called samskaras, cause us to repeat patterns and habits endlessly. So the other very dynamic aspect of Sahaj Marg is the possibility that these traces can be removed with the help of this transmission. The very base of thought and impulse, which have been enmeshed in our compulsive patterns, is removed. Suddenly you may feel a bit lighter, a bit more spacious and easy with life. The heart is cleansed of layers and so becomes softer, more open, compassionate and in touch.

This part of the practice obviously links with growth work and psychotherapy. These two are also about changing repetitive patterns and emotional entanglements. I have found that many of those people who try Sahaj Marg from a background in therapy can make very good use of the process because they already have the alertness to reflect and catch themselves in action. But even those people who have not been exposed to therapy may recognise a similar process in Sahaj Marg. Unaware patterns are brought to our notice synchronistic ally and often painfully in living situations. Also as the traces are removed, we may still experience some of the painful core of these. So in meditation work, we may hit pockets of deep core feelings as they are released very gradually, or sometimes experience even physical pain or nightmares. The difference here from psychotherapy is that in Sahaj Marg, such manifestations are understood as the residual aspects of the profound spiritual evolution that is facilitated. The attitude we cultivate is to accept and pass through any of these without undue attention--but also without repression.

In the end, what I have most learned and valued about this particular path is that it emphasises naturalness and simplicity. No fuss, no funny clothes, candles, joss sticks, ornaments, chants, and complicated stuff. It is something almost without any tangible quality except for a kind of tasteless value. And yet paradoxically, this tastelessness is the most delicious, nourishing, beautiful and profound process. As a purely spiritual system, it does not claim to solve the material problems of life but to enable a way of living more harmoniously with them. There are no fees charged--how can you charge for spirituality? Anyone who wants to try it is free to without obligation. There are a number of preceptors who can give three or more introductory sittings if anyone is interested. Thereafter, you have your own daily practice supported by regular sittings, group meditations, weekends and seminars at various Sahaj Marg centres. Our current spiritual guide, Parthasarathi Rajagopalachari, lives in India but travels extensively. He has a family and worked in an ordinary job all his life but is now retired.

There are many paths to be respected and valued in the world. This one is certainly not the only one. Nevertheless, I have to say, whereas I have tried many different kinds of therapies, this is the only spiritual path I have tried and stayed with because it gave me all that I needed--and more.

Rosalind Pearmain has been involved in education throughout her life: as a secondary teacher, as a health educator, with peer self-help groups, with communication and psychological issues in public sector organisations, and lately, in the field of psychotherapy.

She started practising Sahaj Marg in 1976 in Ireland and now lives with her family in London, UK. She teaches on the Master of Arts programme as a Lecturer at the School of Psychotherapy and Counselling, Regents College, and is also a registered, practising psychotherapist.