ntal philosophy, the fact is, that the
entire aggregation of systems is simple enough when we have the key.

One of the stumbling blocks; the inexplicable enigma to many Occidental
students, is the problem of the preservation, of the Self, and the constant
admonition to become selfless. The two appear paradoxical.

How may the Self acquire consciousness and yet become selfless?

Throughout the Oriental teachings, no matter which of the many systems we
study, we find the oft-repeated declaration that liberation can never be
accomplished and Nirvana reached, by him "who holds to the idea of self."

It is this universally recognized aphorism which has given rise to the
erroneous conception of Nirvana as absorption of all identity.

Hakuin Daisi, the St. Paul of Japanese Buddhism, cautioned his disciples
that they must "absorb the self into the whole, the cosmos, if they would
never die," and Jesus assured his hearers that "he who loses his life for
my sake shall find it."

Christians have taken this simple statement to mean that he who endured
persecution and death because of his espousal of Christianity, would be
rewarded in the way that a king bestows lands and titles, for defense of
his person and throne.

This is the limited viewpoint of the personal self; it is far from being
consistent with the wisdom of the Illumined Master.

He who has sufficient spiritual consciousness to desire the welfare of
_all_, even though his own life and his own possessions were the price
therefore, can not lose his life. Such a one is fit for immortality and
his godhood is claimed by the very act of renunciation--not as a reward
bestowed for such renunciation.

By the very act of willingness to lose the self we find the Self. Not the
self of externality. Not the self that says "I am a white man; or a black
man; or a yellow man; or a red man." That says "I am John Smith"--or any
other name. The awareness of this kind of selfhood, this personal self, is
like looking at one's reflection in the mirror and saying, "Ah, I have on a
becoming attire," or "my face looks sickly to-day." It is the same "I" that
looked yesterday and found the face looking excellently well, so that there
must have been consciousness behind the observation, that could take
cognizance of the difference in appearance of yesterday's reflection and
that which met that cognizing eye to-day.

Eagerness to retain consciousness of the personal self blocks the way of