Time, Eternity, and the Four Ways of Gurdjieff

“But on the fourth way knowledge is still more exact and perfect. A man who follows the fourth way knows quite definitely what substances he needs for his aims and he knows that these substances can be produced within the body by a month of physical suffering, by a week of emotional strain, or by a day of mental exercises— and also, that they can be introduced into the organism from without if it is known how to do it. And so, instead of spending a whole day in exercises like the yogi, a week in prayer like the monk, or a month in self-torture like the fakir, he simply prepares and swallows a little pill which contains all the substances he wants.”

— Gurdjieff 

 Impermanence is a factor in all of Life. It is intimately related to Time, as an aspect of Time. Because of the nature of impermanence we only have so much time in our lives. We as humans measure time with the length of our lives. So as with all things in Nature, our lives only last a certain length of time. And then we are faced with the unknown.

If impermanence were posed as the riddle of life, as a question to be answered, or a problem to be solved, then the transference of one’s life into the Eternal, above Time, would then be the path to solving that riddle. The achievement of immortality is the answer to the question posed by impermanence and death. The Eternal transcends Time and also unties the knot of impermanence.

Religions and philosophies have differing approaches to what lies beyond this life, but generally they all agree that it is better in theory to live “the Good Life” (usually meaning an overall moral life), as that determines a happier and more satisfactory result in what comes next after death. A good or moral life is for the average man the most accessible way to approach immortality; although, as there are degrees of morality, so there are also degrees of success in achieving immortality. That is to say, while immortality is a goal, perhaps viewed as a prize to be won, it can also be looked at as a long-term goal, being obtained either over time somehow after death, or over several lifetimes of work.

An archetypal symbol of impermanence is the Moon, with its phases of waxing and waning; its completeness in its ‘full phase’ and its emptiness at its ‘new phase’. The Upanishads call the Moon ‘King Soma’, as the Moon governs the tides of the oceans, the sap within herbs and plants, and the life energies of the animal realm. Gurdjieff said cryptically that Life on Earth serves as ‘food for the moon’, the Moon governing the life energies of living beings, and then absorbing those same life energies at their deaths.

Some philosophers ask if there is an immortal spark in Man, a Self. The Upanishads attest that the mere act of doubting the existence of that spark of Self within leads to “darkness”. Other philosophers ask if Man has a “soul”; perhaps a rephrasing of the question, “Who am I?”. That is a question that can be answered for oneself upon honest self-reflection: Man internally is governed by change, by impermanence. The solid within Man is, upon reflection, instead actually mutable. Outwardly, he projects a personality of stability to the world and to others. But inside he changes constantly, becoming almost an entirely different person from day to day, and from minute to minute. He is internally subject to changing moods, emotions, and thoughts; even his self-image mutating daily.

Gurdjieff claimed to have unveiled a hidden system that could over time help Man achieve inner permanence, what he called “will”, although probably not what the modern West calls “will power”. Will is a factor within Man which allows him to walk amongst the mutability and ever-changing impermanence of the World, without himself changing. A man with “will” is also a man with consciousness. He is not the product of outward factors; he is not a pawn in the hands of Life. He is a player himself, playing the pieces on the game board of Life, and winning.

To Gurdjieff, a man with will and consciousness, (and also, as he said, a man with the “ability to ‘do’”), that man could also be said to be immortal. That is because that man has developed enough structure within himself that he could be said to have developed a series of “higher bodies”; bodies which last after the death of the physical body.

Gurdjieff said there are only four distinct, very narrow ways or methods to achieve immortality, to develop will, or to “crystallize” those higher, permanent bodies. These specific ways are the only ways in existence; all that is available to mankind. Failing to achieve permanence through these ways, man can only serve as “food for the moon”. The East Indian Upanishads also speak of life serving as food for the moon (Brihadaranyaka Upanishad  VI 2 16). But it goes into much more detail about what that process means; which generally boils down to life being subject to reincarnation. To the East Indian philosophers also there was certainly a spectrum of different karmic outcomes for a man, from the unsatisfactory rebirth as a biting insect, to the superior rebirth within the family of holy parents. 

The rest of this essay will describe ways out of the rule of impermanence; ways or paths that develop an inner structure and solidity of some kind — methods that develop the soul. In the following I hopefully plan to illuminate the four ways Gurdjieff described for a human being to achieve immortality, the four paths to no more rebirth, the paths to eternity.

“Right work on oneself begins with the creation of a permanent center of gravity.”1

— Gurdjieff 

Gurdjieff was a spiritual technician, as well as a spiritual scientist in a way. He developed or transmitted a psychology that describes Man as having definite centers; centers of intellect, of emotion, and also the centers that govern the physical body. Gurdjieff was a technician in that he strived to fine tune the centers of himself and of his students. But he was a scientist in that he identified definite ways of working in the world, based on the development of those centers, which lead to immortality.

Gurdjieff taught that human evolution could proceed along the lines of development of Man’s different centers: either intellectual, emotional, or physical. Specifically, he called these three lines of work the way of the Yogi, the way of the Monk, and the way of the Fakir, respectively.

These three lines of work on oneself, of self-evolution, are all Eastern paths, not to be found in the West. And all of these lines require a man give up his life of a householder, and follow a teacher or guru in a school, temple, or ashram. A man choosing one of these paths has to leave his life in the world and never go back.

The way of the Fakir is the way of the body. It is the most difficult of all the ways, as well as the longest and the most uncertain. It entails the Fakir going through much torture and hardship; standing unmoving upon his fingers and toes, standing motionless with one hand upraised above him, adopting an uncomfortable yoga posture and holding it for days, weeks, and years. After a long time though, and after much struggle, the Fakir may develop will — will over the body. At this point he can accomplish many things physically, and overcome great obstacles, he can obtain what he wants.

The next way is the way of the Monk, the way of emotions. This is not as long and hard as the first way, but still requires much labor and hardship. The Monk struggles to modulate his emotions, refraining from sinful negativity, and developing faith, charity, and love of God. After many years of intense prayer and works of charity, he may develop unity, or will over the emotions.

Then comes the way of the Yogi, he who develops the mind. This is the quickest way of the three; the Yogi knows what he wants to achieve and how to achieve it. He works on and elevates the mind.

But these ways of the East are almost impossible for a Westerner to access and follow. Fortunately, there exists a fourth way; a way that follows all of the first three ways — ways of the body, emotions, and intellect — all at the same time. The fourth way dictates that the follower work in the world, in the situation that he exists already. 

Work on the fourth way can be tricky in that Gurdjieff himself did not leave an organization in place, as a school for his followers. As a result the real inner work upon the emotions and intellect can often be overlooked. Mimicry can pass as attainment. Buzz words and catch phrases can be repeated unconsciously in place of genuine teaching. Simply adopting a serious facial expression or somber vocal tone allows one to fit in. Worldly success or fame or even simply physical beauty can make one a candidate for teachership. Inner work is of course rare and difficult upon any of the four paths.

The schools of the fourth way are not in public existence now. 

Fortunately, there is a type of “fourth way teaching” which has been transferred to the West and which still legitimately exists. That is the transference of Tibetan Buddhism which has taken place over the past few decades. Tibetan Buddhism is a definite type of work on the mind, emotions, and body. It has aspects of the ways of the Yogi, the Monk, and the Fakir, all three. It is a legitimate school which the West now has access to.

In Tibetan Buddhism there is a sophisticated development of the emotions with the adoption of compassion and loving-kindness in a very dedicated way. There is also an intricate teaching of inner yoga, entailing complex visualizations and movement of the winds within the channels. Then there is the purification of the body through prostrations and offerings.

Tibetan Buddhism is an “inner Buddhism”, as my guru has said; rather than just outward show, or superficial and repetitive physical imitation. However, this inner layer of Tibetan Buddhism can be accessed through also internalizing and practicing the Gurdjieff system in addition to Buddhism. One could say that the fourth way teachings are a key, which turns on the ignition of Tibetan Buddhism. Though the presence of an accomplished Tibetan Buddhist guru also gives one access to the great power of this vehicle, its engine. A real guru is not only indispensable as a teacher, but acts, in a way, as a “fourth way guide” to the student. The two systems are quite complimentary.

“All religious teachings, excepting of course the completely degenerated religions of savages and the invented religions and sects of modern times, consist of two parts, the visible and the hidden.”2

— Gurdjieff 

In summary, the path to immortality is difficult to find in the modern world. But one can approach it as a householder in the West through living a life of conscience, and also of consciousness. And if one wants an organized way to follow — a fast way, so to speak — one need not travel to the East. The East has come to the West, in the transference of Tibetan Buddhism, with its Lamas, from across the world. Gurdjieff’s legacy is his words and writings, along with his system. Internalizing his system can open the door to the inner workings of any legitimate religious path, but in particular to those of Tibetan Buddhism, which has preserved the wisdom and technology of thousands of years of Eastern sages. 

Under the law of impermanence, all philosophical and religious organizations degenerate eventually. It takes a highly developed man or woman, a teacher or guru of inner substance, to reinvigorate a faith or philosophy, to breathe life back into it. If one happens to encounter such a man or woman, they can be the door to the Path — the Path to Immortality.

“There is not, nor can there be, any outward initiation. In reality only self-initiation, self­ presentation exist. Systems and schools can indicate methods and ways, but no system or school whatever can do for a man the work that he must do himself. Inner growth, a change of being, depend entirely upon the work which a man must do on himself.”3

— Gurdjieff 

1. Gurdjieff — In Search of the Miraculous, P. D. Ouspensky chapter 12

2. Gurdjieff — ibid

3. Gurdjieff — ibid, chapter 15

The Magic of Self-Transformation

 There is a difference between the way the average person views magic and the way magicians themselves view magic. One group — a large segment of the public perhaps — views magic as a risk for the practitioner, in the vein of the scholar/magician Faust, who, in the myth loses his soul. The other group — the magicians — in fact generally believes magic, or rather the pursuit and application of esoteric knowledge, to serve towards the salvation of their souls.

There is another group of people though who don’t believe in magic at all. However they might very well believe in and pursue what they call personal psychological wholeness or inner transformation. In actual fact, those people are not much different from a set of magicians who practice “high magic”, or magic with the goal of transmuting the lower self into something higher.

This essay will analyze the path of high magic: magic used for the purpose of inner self-transformation. To a certain extent, light will be shed on the nature of high magic by contrasting it with its shadow, or magic of a more dubious nature. The definition of high magic can be found through the words of recognized high magicians. The synopsis of a play by Gurdjieff, The Struggle of the Magicians, will hopefully give some insight into the contrast of two magicians using magic with quite different means and ends. And finally, high magic will be looked at from the perspective of Buddhist Tantra, which uses magic — or rather esoteric technology — to achieve the ultimate self-transformation: Enlightenment.

Modern Western magic was to an extent born in 19th century France with the writings of Éliphas Lévi. Lévi literally wrote the book on high magic with his Doctrine and Ritual of High Magic. Lévi was acutely aware that all magic is not magic with the goal of self improvement. He describes the contrast thus: “There is a true and a false science, a divine magic and a magic which is infernal, that is to say misleading and obscure….”1

Lévi is certain that there is error or superstition in magic, but he strives to describe instead the magical way leading to wholeness, to the transformed self. True magic, to Lévi, is a science; an esoteric science using the hidden laws of the universe and man. Magic, in its purest sense, is work upon one’s inner self. He says, “The first of all the works of magical science is knowledge of oneself, it is the Great Work, the creation of oneself.”1

However, to accomplished magicians, there is no white magic versus black magic. The prolific author and esotericist, John Michael Greer, talks of two poles of magic, saying: “The opposite of high magic isn't ‘low magic,’ any more than the opposite of fine arts is ‘coarse arts’ -- it's fine arts and performing arts, and it’s high magic and practical magic.”2 He defines high magic as magic with the goal of self-transformation. Practical magic would be magic dealing with practical matters: finding a lost object through skrying, planting by the moon phases, as examples.

Even though magic cannot be defined as white or black, there is however a type of morality in the practice of magic. The Western sage G. I. Gurdjieff has been described as a Magus; and although he rejected the superficial adoption of outward mores, he understood the principle of morality in magic. Probably he, more than any self-described magician, also grasped the cosmic laws underlying human potential and Man’s path to self-evolution. Gurdjieff gave us a fictional example of the contrast between the false and the true magician in his drama, Struggle of the Magicians. In the play, morality in magic is explored — in the character and deeds of two very different magicians.

The story goes…

In a bustling city of the East, there is a wise and good man of knowledge, a White Magician; a man who understands the Laws of the Seven Cosmoses — including those of the Tritocosmos, Man. He teaches students in his school, where they observe the stars and planets and learn about their influences upon the Earth, and upon Life itself on the Earth. They also study chemistry, but specifically the chemistry of substances from a cosmic and psychological point of view, a spectrum of the elements labeled ‘hydrogens’. Esoteric movements and gymnastics are also carried out by the students, for the purpose of self-study.

One of the wise teacher’s favorite pupils, Zeinab, is a young woman of high character, who besides being very beautiful, is also blest with much compassion for the poor and sick among the populace. She is pure in virtue, and dedicated to charity towards others, and to the betterment of herself through application of herself at her studies.

Zeinab’s beauty and noble traits one day attract the attention of Gafar, a man of great wealth, a man who inevitably gets everything he wants. He has all he could desire, including an extensive haram. But now Gafar desperately wants Zeinab.

However all of his advances and expensive gifts through his servant are rejected by Zeinab. Over and over he is rejected — something a man of his great wealth has never experienced — until Gafar can take it no longer.

Finally the desperate Gafar seeks out the help of a weird and dangerous Black Sorcerer. This magician has a school of sorts too, where his frightened students imitate him, in the hopes of also gaining impressive magical powers. At first the Black Magician is afraid to help Gafar, upon learning that he would cross paths with the school of the powerful White Magician. But Gafar tempts the evil sorcerer with a pile of valuable treasure.

Through his diabolical rite, the Black Magician succeeds in enslaving a hypnotized Zeinab to Gafar’s lust.

Soon afterwards, Zeinab’s servant arrives at the White Magician’s school, informing him of Zeinab’s impending marriage with Gafar. The wise teacher immediately understands something is wrong and through his skill discovers the truth of Zeinab’s predicament. By means of his deep esoteric knowledge, the White Magician summons Gafar and Zeinab to his school, where he severs the evil spell, returning Zeinab to her right mind. Zeinab and Gafar immediately see the wisdom and nobility of the great White Magician, and bow before him.

We can learn from this simple story the basic difference in qualities of the White and Black Magicians. One is filled with benevolence and knowledge, the other is possessed by his own cruelty, greed, and ignorance. One follows his spiritual path, the other ignores his spiritual path. One magician is helping other people, the second magician is harming people.

I think we might say of the White Magician, that he is not just interested in performing supernatural feats. He has a wide and deep understanding which allows him to fulfill his charitable nature, through means not available to the average person. Whereas the Black Magician, who has no charity towards others, revels in his power, and in his ability to manipulate others.

Gurdjieff in general believed in the development of the individual; in inner transformation or evolution. Gurdjieff spoke of a theory of human development along two parallel lines: that of being and that of knowledge. The evolution of a man’s being is the development of his character, of the refinement of his emotional state. In a sense, being is what a man is. A man can be measured by the level of his being. It is essentially his ‘spirituality’, or lack thereof. And to Gurdjieff, knowledge depends on being. Knowledge without being, without high character, is empty knowledge. Both knowledge and being must evolve together, for balanced growth. Human evolution is evolution of the emotions and of the understanding.

Not only can being be elevated and measured, but it can also be transformed. The transformation of being is relevant to high magic, as well as to psychology and religion. Maurice Nicoll, a disciple of both Jung and Gurdjieff, writes: “Transformation of being is the central idea of all esoteric teaching. Esoteric teaching is about transformation. It refers to an inner transformation that is possible in a human being who tries to awaken.”3

Gurdjieff’s theory of being and knowledge collates somewhat with the tantric Buddhist concept of the accumulation of merit and wisdom, as a means to gain enlightenment. Acquiring merit and wisdom, along with purifying the mental/physical obscurations, is the path to Buddhahood. To Buddhists, Enlightenment is of course the ultimate self-transformation.

There is a famous story of a Tibetan Buddhist saint, Milarepa, who illustrates with his life both sides of this essay: the evil sorcerer with no thought for his inner spiritual development, and the Buddhist practitioner who repents, eventually over time attaining complete enlightenment.

Milarepa was born in Tibet in 1040. He started out his young adulthood studying black magic, as a means of fulfilling a family grudge. Through his sorcery he murdered his aunt and uncle, along with dozens of innocent people. Then he subsequently destroyed the crops of his entire village with a magically summoned hailstorm.

But Milarepa had soon had enough of his evil life, and he sought out a holy man to help cleanse his karma — and to find the path to enlightenment. 

He found the great teacher Marpa, a Buddhist saint. 

However Marpa initially refused to teach his new disciple; but made him build tower after tower in the nearby mountains. After much grueling labor, at last Milarepa was physically and spiritually exhausted, and left — he had given up. 

Soon realizing his mistake, he returned, and it was then that Marpa consented to teach him meditation. Milarepa had cleansed his karma through his heavy labors in the mountains. 

Milarepa eventually became Marpa’s prized student, and ended up having many successful students of his own. Milarepa ultimately spent much of his time meditating as a mountain yogi, and finally — after much spiritual effort — he himself achieved Buddhahood, becoming one of Tibet’s greatest holy saints.

The tantric Buddhism of Tibet is a very real, very deep form of Buddhism. It harnesses the technology of magic to travel the path to enlightenment extremely quickly; potentially reaching the goal of Buddhahood in only one lifetime, rather than over eons. 

Tantra uses the technique of mantra: sacred magical formulas repeated hundreds of thousands of times. It also includes complex visualizations of deities and diagrams which allow the practitioner to acquire qualities and traits of celestial bodhisattvas, or advanced Buddhas. It has its own set of magical tools: the mala (rosary), the dorje (scepter), and the bell.

The goal, or motivation, behind this activity, however is not magical powers. The aim is a spiritual one, although siddhis or miraculous abilities sometimes manifest. But they are a bi-product of spiritual accomplishments, not an end in themselves.

My own root guru here in Seattle used to tell stories of his father, a Lama who was famous in Tibet for his siddhi powers, especially his command over the elements. Once on a journey the elder guru desperately needed to water his horses; he struck the ground with his staff, and a spring of water gushed forth. This spring can still to this day be found in Tibet. When my own guru was a young boy, his father came to him once to demonstrate the power of the bodhisattva Mahakala — with a flame of fire magically emitting from his unhurt open palm. During Buddhist services, the elder guru would beat the ceremonial drum, and a ring of sparks would encircle the drum. My own guru as a boy witnessed this often, and assumed then that it was a perfectly normal occurrence — and thought nothing of it til later.

But these feats were as I said side effects of the Lama’s spirituality. The mark of a great Lama is not magical powers, but compassion and wisdom. That is the goal of every Buddhist practitioner, and ultimately every Buddhist wishes nothing else but happiness for all sentient beings.

As an example of tantra, there is a practice in Tibetan Buddhism which helps the practitioner to develop spiritually and, while not strictly magical, does employ a type of spiritual transformation or transmutation. It is based on the practitioner having great generosity towards others; and utilizes pure compassion and benevolence. It is from the teachings of Tibetan Buddhist Mind Training, and is called the practice of Giving and Taking.

Giving and Taking involves taking the suffering of others upon oneself, into one’s heart, on the in-breath. Transmuting the suffering alchemically — by means of compassion and wisdom — into pure bliss and happiness. And then giving that happiness back out to others with the out-breath. This is especially beneficial for people with whom one has troubles. The idea is that one is transforming oneself too into a more loving and open person, at the same time.

As I said, it is a very advanced technique, and not for everyone. It can perhaps make some who try it uncomfortable, or even afraid. But at basis, the practice is simply the putting into action of the first two of the famous Four Immeasurables  -- i.e. compassion and loving kindness -- formulated as: “May all beings be free from suffering.” & “May all beings have happiness.”

In summary, Milarepa was an example of a magician beginning upon a path of error, turning it around through great effort, and finally following a path of personal improvement — all the way to Enlightenment. My own Lama was the most amazing example of a human I have ever encountered. His example, along with his stories of his father, prove that saints still exist; saints who can perform miraculous feats. And yet, Gurdjieff shows us that miracles are the result of great personal virtue and wisdom, not especially from magical power. And although there are magicians who might perform a shadowy imitation of magic, it is the transmutation of the lower self to the higher, which defines the truly accomplished magician. 

1. Lévi, The Doctrine and Ritual of High Magic: A New Translation (Greer & Mikituk). Chapter 1, p. 30, 32

2. A personal interaction with J. M. Greer in his blog. https://ecosophia.dreamwidth.org/184693.html?page=3#comments

3. Nicoll, Psychological Commentaries on the Teaching of Gurdjieff and Ouspensky vol. 4, p. 1292