Chapter 33. Kenosis

I traveled a long way seeking God,
but when I finally gave up and turned back,
there He was, within me!

— Lalleshwari (Hindu)

When you begin a spiritual path, it is only natural to assume that if you submit to its disciplines and master its practices, eventually it will lead you to Gnosis. But strictly speaking this is not true. Strictly speaking, the spiritual path can never lead you to Gnosis. And this holds whether we are using the pronoun you to refer to your deluded self or to your True Self.

If you refers to your deluded self, then you can never attain Gnosis, because that you doesn’t exist. As Abdullah Ansari of Herat writes,

There is no seeker, no sought, no receiving of information, no inquiry, no definition, and no description. He (God) is everything in everything. 511

If, on the other hand, you refers to your True Self, then that You can never attain Gnosis, because that You has never lost it. Here’s how Huang Po puts it:

You have always been one with the Buddha, so do not pretend you can ATTAIN to this oneness by various practices. 512

Likewise, Ramana Maharshi says,

In a sense, speaking of Self-realization is a delusion. It is only because people have been under the delusion that the non-Self is the Self and the unreal the Real that they have to be weaned out of it by the other delusion called Self-realization; because actually the Self always is the Self and there is no such thing as realizing it. Who is to realize what and how, when all that exists is the Self and nothing but the Self? 513

But if this is really true—if following a spiritual path can never lead you to Gnosis—then what has been the point of undertaking all these arduous disciplines and practices? Well, there are two answers to this question.

First, as we have been saying all along, a spiritual path is designed to interrupt and destroy the Story of I and the delusion of self upon which it is based so you can uncover that First Distinction between subject and object and Realize it’s imaginary. And, if you, yourself, have been walking this path, you know from your own experience that it does, indeed, work—at least, up to a point. By engaging in various practices you have been able to weaken your conditioning, dissolve your attachments, liberate your thoughts, purify your emotions, and transform your desires. You also know that the more you succeed in this, the more the Love, Bliss, and Beauty, which is inherent in Consciousness Itself, starts to shine through in your life. This, in turn, brings about a crucial psycho-spiritual transformation. Whereas, in the beginning you regarded your self as your most prized possession, by the end you come to feel that it is a horrendous burden. Consequently, by the time you finally do arrive back at that First Distinction, your only question is, “How can I destroy this as well?” So, rather than resist the sacrifice of the self, which Gnosis demands, spiritual practices prepare you to actually welcome it.

It is precisely here, however, just when you feel truly ready for Enlightenment, that all your practices suddenly seem to fail, and you run into the kind of impasse that The Cloud of Unknowing author warns us about:

Long after you have successfully forgotten every creature and its works, you will find that a naked knowing and feeling of your own being still remains between you and your God. And believe me, you will not be perfect in love until this, too, is destroyed. 514

Now the reason breaking through this last barrier is so difficult is that whatever effort you make to destroy your sense of self actually ends up re-enforcing it. Why? Because all your efforts are produced by self-will, and self-will is born of seeking, and seeking is what perpetuates the delusion of self. And yet, if you attempt to cease your efforts, surrender your will, and stop seeking, then you encounter the paradox of practice—i.e., you are making an effort to cease efforts, willing to surrender your will, and seeking not to seek—which only serves to maintain the illusion that there is, in fact, some self performing these activities.

So then what can you do to break out of this bind? The answer is that you can’t do anything. Why? Because seeking was not something you chose to do in the first place. It was an automatic response to the suffering you experienced when you lost your Original Happiness. Nevertheless, a way out does, in fact, exist—which brings us to the second reason for engaging in spiritual practices.

If you have been following this path, then you will have found that, along with reversing your attitude towards your self, it has worked another, equally crucial transformation, which we have already mentioned: Instead of being a worldly seeker intent on attaining all sorts of worldly goals, the path has converted you into a spiritual seeker intent on attaining only one goal—Gnosis. And if this conversion is complete, then you will have no choice but to continue seeking Gnosis in every way possible, even if this means attempting to do the impossible—to practice not practicing, to will to surrender your will, and to seek to stop seeking—until all your efforts are utterly exhausted and you reach the true end of the path, which is not Gnosis but kenosis.

Attaining Kenosis

kenosis is a Greek word that means to be empty. Here we are using it in a mystical sense to refer to a state of self-emptiness. As such, kenosis may be seen as the complement of Consciousness-without-an-object, for just as Consciousness-without-an-object is characterized by the absence of any objects, kenosis is characterized by the absence of anything that could be called a subject or self. This includes not only those ordinary thoughts and emotions that make up the Story of I , but even the most subtle movements of seeking, effort, and will. When all of these have been completely stilled, kenosis is reached. Here is how Anandamayi describes it:

No matter what anyone’s line of approach, at first there is torment and perplexity; one is unable to find. After that comes a state of suspense—emptiness as it were; one cannot penetrate within, neither does one derive satisfaction from worldly enjoyment. 515

And, as mystics of all traditions testify, this state of kenosis is the indispensable prerequisite for Gnosis. Why? Because, as Suzuki Roshi says,

True existence comes from emptiness and goes back again into emptiness. We have to go through the gate of emptiness. 516

Brother Lawrence explains it in more bhakti terms:

Your heart must be empty of all other things because God desires to possess it exclusively, and he cannot possess it exclusively without first emptying it of everything other than himself. 517

Merrell-Wolff says the same thing using the language of a jnani:

He who has thus become as nothing in his own right then is prepared to become possessed by wisdom herself. The completeness of self-emptying is the precondition to the realization of unutterable Fullness. 518

And yet to say that entering kenosis is a prerequisite for Gnosis seems merely to push the problem back a step without really solving it. For if we now ask how we can attain kenosis, we appear to be faced with the same paradox as before—namely, that any effort we make to empty ourselves of self actually insures that the delusion of self will continue. But, while this is certainly true, there is still one way in which kenosis can be attained, and that is by trying and failing to attain Gnosis. Nor should this entirely surprise us, because, again as we have already seen, each stage of our practice has unfolded according to this very same pattern—i.e., making an effort ends in exhaustion, exhaustion forces us to surrender, and surrender opens us to a grace which leads us further along the path. Well, the same principle applies to the end of the path, for as Ramana Maharshi says,

Sadhanas [practices] are needed so long as one has not realized it. They are for putting an end to obstacles. Finally there comes a stage when a person feels helpless notwithstanding the sadhanas . He is unable to pursue the much-cherished sadhana also. It is then that God’s power is realized. The Self reveals itself. 519

In other words, ultimately, the path self-destructs—in both meanings of the term: It destroys itself, and, in the process, it also destroys the delusion that there has been any self traveling it. Then, and only then, can Gnosis dawn.

So let’s take a last look at the two major approaches we have been tracking—that of the jnani and that of the bhakta—and see how this actually works out for each of them.

How Jnanis Fail

If you are a jnani, your main practice has been to conduct an inquiry in the hope that someday you will come to know the Truth of who you really are. What this inquiry ends up giving you, however, is not knowledge of who you are, but of who you are not—i.e., you are not a body, not thoughts, not emotions, not volitions, not an ego, soul, or spirit. And if you continue your inquiry beyond this point, you literally find nothing because, as we’ve said repeatedly, your True Self is Consciousness, and Consciousness is not a thing. But perhaps by now you, yourself, are convinced that this is, indeed, the case—there is nothing to find and nothing to know. And yet even coming to this conclusion is deceptive, because thinking that you don’t know can make it seem like you have understood some kind of truth after all, be it only a negative one. But as Menahem Nahum says,

The end of knowledge is the awareness that we do not know. … If, however, he thinks that he knows some particular thing, he has not attained to wisdom at all. 520

In other words, when you really don’t know, it means you don’t even know that you don’t know! This is why Ibn al-‘Arabi declares,

[True] guidance means being guided to bewilderment, that he might know that the whole affair [of God] is perplexity. 521

Similarly, the twelfth-century Zen master Ta-hui advises:

Do not let go of your perplexity, for that is where the intellect cannot operate and thought cannot reach; it is the road through which discrimination is cut and theorizing is ended. 522

Anandamayi Ma agrees:

To feel fatigued, exhausted, because one has not found Him is a very good sign indeed. It indicates that one is nearing the purification of one’s heart and mind. 523

In order to reach this state of complete unknowing, however, you must push your inquiry to the limit by continuing to ask, “Who is it that doesn’t know? Who is it that is perplexed? Who is it that is bewildered?” And you must keep on following these thoughts back to their Source, until your thinking mind is so utterly exhausted that it simply refuses to function anymore. When this happens you will have no choice but to surrender. And, if your surrender is total, you will have, willy-nilly, entered kenosis, which is the gateway to Gnosis. Here is how Hakuin describes a seeker who has reached this state:

His normal processes of thought, perception, consciousness, and emotion will cease, he will reach the limits of words and reason. He will resemble an utter fool, as everything, including his erstwhile determination to pursue the Way, disappears and his breath itself hangs almost suspended. … this is the occasion when the tortoise shell is about to crack, the phoenix about to break free of its egg. 524

How Bhaktas Fail

If you are a bhakta, your main practice has been devotion to some form of the Divine. Inspired by the fire of love and longing which devotion aroused, you hoped to attain union with your Beloved. But when you went to look for the Reality behind this form, you, too, found nothing. If, however, you are a true lover, you will continue searching for this Reality by every means possible. Finally, when all your efforts are exhausted, like your jnani cousins you will fall into a state of kenosis. Sufis call this final stage fana , which means the passing away of the self. Then, as Abdullah Ansari of Herat explains, when all else is annihilated, God alone remains:

God, the Most Exalted, is, and nothing else.
(For in this state)
attachments (‘alāyiq) are severed,
secondary causes (asbāb) are destroyed, (and)
conventions and norms (rusūm) are nullified.
Limits (hudūd) are shattered.
understandings (fuhūm) are wrecked, (and)
histories (tārīkh) are obliterated.
Signs (īshārāt) are extinct,
allusions (‘ibārāt) are effaced, (and)
expressions (khabar) are negated.
And God, the One and Unique, abides by Himself,
eternally Subsistent. 525

St. John of the Cross called kenosis the dark night of the spirit. Here’s how he describes it:

The spiritual and sensual desires are put to sleep and mortified, so that they can experience nothing, either Divine or human; the affections of the soul are oppressed and constrained, so that they can neither move nor find support in anything; the imagination is bound and can make no useful reflection; the memory is gone; the understanding is in darkness, unable to understand anything, and hence the will likewise is arid and constrained and all the faculties are void and useless … 526

But then he goes on to say that this dark night is a necessary precondition for attaining Union with God:

For in such a way does this dark night of contemplation absorb and immerse the soul in itself, and so near does it bring the soul to God, that it protects and delivers it from all that is not God. For this soul is now, as it were, undergoing a cure, in order that it may regain its health—its health being God Himself. 527

So it is to kenosis that the spiritual path actually leads, and it doesn’t matter how you get there, whether as a jnani or a bhakta. What does matter (whether you are a jnani or a bhakta), however, is that during the course of your journey you put all your eggs in one basket, and burn all your bridges behind you, so that there is no possibility of turning back. If you only get temporarily stuck, and think, “Oh well, this spiritual stuff isn’t working out, maybe I’ll go back to school and become a dentist,” you haven’t reached true kenosis. In true kenosis all your faculties—intellectual, psychological, and spiritual—are rendered powerless, your desires and aversions dry up, and your will is utterly stymied. Above all, every form of seeking for worldly and spiritual things comes grinding to a halt.

Kenosis as Spiritual Death

Once you have entered kenosis, something very profound begins to happen. Having been deprived of anything whatsoever to do, the ego-self starts to undergo that spiritual death reported by mystics of all the great traditions. Here, for example, is what the Lankavatara Sutra says about what Enlightenment entails:

There has been an inconceivable transformation-death (acintya-parinama-cyuti ) by which the false imagination of his particularised individual personality has been transcended by a realisation of his oneness with the universalized mind of Tathagatahood, from which realisation there will be no recession. 528

Likewise, after comparing a seeker to a silkworm which transforms into a butterfly, Teresa of Avila tells her students this:

But note very carefully, daughters, the silkworm has of necessity to die; and it is this which will cost you most. 529

So, too, Menahem Nahum writes,

He who wants to draw the true life of God into him … must first put to death his natural self, which has been with him since birth. 530

Why should this kind of death be necessary? Rumi explains it this way:

With God, two I’s cannot find room. You say “I” and He says “I.” Either you die before Him, or let Him die before you … But since it is impossible for Him to die, you die, so that He may manifest Himself to you and duality may vanish. 531

From the point of view of Gnosis, of course, no one actually dies, because there is no one there to begin with. And yet, from the point of view of the seeker, this death can seem very real, indeed. This is especially true of bhaktas, for whom kenosis is often preceded by feelings of abandonment and heart-break far more devastating than those felt by people who have lost human lovers. Listen to how Mira Bai describes her experience:

Strange is the path
When you offer your love. …
If you want to offer love
Be prepared to cut off your head
And sit on it.
Be like the moth,
Which circles the lamp and offers its body.
Be like the deer, which, on hearing the horn,
Offers its head to the hunter. …
Be like the fish,
Which yields up its life
When separated from the sea. 532

But even jnanis can feel that they are on the brink of an actual death. Thus, Hakuin describes someone who has reached the final stage of Zen practice this way:

Like a man hanging over a precipice he is completely at a loss what to do next. Except for occasional feelings of uneasiness and despair, it is like death itself. 533

For some, kenosis may last only for a moment or two. This is what happened to Merrell-Wolff, who gives the following account of what transpired just prior to his Realization:

The final thought before the ‘breakthrough’ was the very clear realization that there was nothing to be attained . … I am already That which I seek, and therefore, there is nothing to be sought. By the very seeking I hide Myself from myself. Therefore, abandon the search and expect nothing. This was the end of the long search. I died, and in the same instant was born again. Spontaneity took over in place of the old self-determined effort. 534

It is even possible (though not very common) for kenosis to be experienced as a state of perfect contentment. This can happen because when you are truly content inside, then no matter what your outer circumstances are, you still feel that there is nothing lacking. And, if there is nothing lacking, there is nothing to be desired, and if there is nothing to be desired, there is nothing to seek. Hence, there is no need for you to make any effort or exercise your will. As Rumi puts it,

Learn from the Prophet an alchemy:
Whatever God gives you, be content.

At the very moment you become content in affliction,
the door of paradise will open. 535

But however kenosis is reached, the essential factor is, as we said, that all seeking—even for Enlightenment—must come to an end. Then, with nothing to distract it, attention collapses back into that infinite ocean of Consciousness-without-an-object-and-without-a-subject from which it arose. And it is here, in this space devoid of any distinctions, that Gnosis dawns. Here’s how Lalleshwari describes it:

There all words and thoughts,
as well as Shiva and Shakti, become quiet.
Neither silence nor yogic postures
enable you to enter there.
In that state there is no knowledge,
no meditation, no Shiva or Shakti.
All that remains is That.
O Lallī, you are That.
Attain That. 536

Chuang Tzu puts it this way:

Be content to go along [with things] and forget about change and then you can enter the mysterious oneness of Heaven. 537

Likewise, Suzuki Roshi says,

If you want to understand it, you cannot understand it. When you give up trying to understand it, true understanding is always there. 538

And Rumi writes,

When the heart was annihilated within Him, He remained; then it understood the object of His words: “I Myself am the seeker and the Sought.” 539