Forms of Nourishment
In nature, everything exists through sacrifice. Every being gives of itself in some way, while also making use of something—or someone—else to sustain its own life. Whatever lives, lives at the expense of something else, and in turn becomes a source of sustenance for yet another form of life. This state of affairs follows from the idea of the One Life — a key concept in Theosophy that embraces all beings and all processes. Nothing exists outside this One Life; all that exists has its origin and its consummation within it.
If we trace the chain of nourishment in greater or lesser detail, we ultimately close it into a circle and discover an interdependent and intricate system linking all forms of living existence. This panoramic view from above may satisfy many, yet it is only a first approximation to the question of how we interact with the external world.
A closer look reveals that much depends on how we live and what we use to survive. The more developed a human being becomes, the more vital and acute these questions grow. For as we evolve, we draw nearer to the position of a co-worker of nature, and our actions must therefore become increasingly purposeful from the standpoint of the advancement of all beings. This applies to every sphere of our activity — and it applies, too, to the food we eat.
Levels of Nourishment
When we speak of nourishment, we refer to the process of sustaining life. This process is multifaceted in itself and is not limited to the absorption of proteins, carbohydrates, fats, microelements, vitamins, and other familiar components of food. All these belong only to the physical aspect of nourishment. Yet nourishment does not consist solely in feeding the body, for the physical body represents but one plane of our being. To understand nourishment more fully, we must take into account at least three principal dimensions: those of body, soul, and spirit. Each of these, in turn, can be further subdivided into more specific aspects.
Let us consider several examples that illustrate the many-sided nature of nourishment:
- Prolonged fasting, when successful, shows that the organism is capable of maintaining its vital functions even in the absence of physical sustenance. While in a well-nourished person this may be explained by the burning of fat reserves, a lean person evidently draws upon another source of energy and elements, for the process of creating new cells never ceases for a single moment.
- Overeating suggests that we take food not merely for the body’s requisites — micronutrients (trace elements), vitamins, proteins, etc. — but also for the savor of it, to gratify taste and thus our sensory nature.
- Eating under stress or in depression points to another kind of hunger — one that cannot be truly satisfied on its own sensory plane and is therefore compensated for on the lower, physical one.
- Dietary restrictions, whether in quality or quantity, affect not only the health of the physical body but also one’s mood and mental capacity, showing the influence of physical nourishment upon the non-physical planes of our being.
| Physical (development of the body) |
Soul (development of consciousness and mind) |
Spiritual (spiritualization or refinement of consciousness)
| |
|---|---|---|---|
| Elements of nourishment | proteins, fats, carbohydrates, microelements, vitamins, beneficial bacteria | emotions, information, intellectual activity | inspiration, illumination, spiritual reading and conversation on uplifting themes or with spiritually minded people, prayer, communion with one’s higher nature |
| Result of nourishment | chemical processes within the organism; deriving energy and assimilating essential physical elements | experience, empathy, reflection, and analysiss | harmony, insight into the essence of phenomena, and the awareness of the universal interconnection and oneness of one’s Self with all beings |
All three dimensions are closely interwoven and constantly act upon one another. To these principal ones, two transitional levels may also be added:
| From body to mind | From mind to spirit |
|---|---|
That which nourishes the five senses:
|
That which makes our mind more flexible and receptive — able to understand and accept the views of others, and ultimately to embrace the whole world in all its diversity and contradictions. |
Undernourishment and Overeating
A human being exists, grows, and is nourished on four planes of being. In all of them, moderation is essential. Both undernourishment and overeating can lead to undesirable consequences when balance is lost. The law of exhaustion and satiety is universal: it operates not only on the physical plane, but also on the sensory, mental, and spiritual planes.
The table Nutritional Needs on the Various Planes of Being presents some characteristic signs of deficiency, moderation, and excess in nourishment on each of these levels. Let us now consider spiritual nourishment in greater detail.
Insufficient nourishment on the spiritual level gives rise to the fear of death and the clinging to life. It may seem that ignorance is the source of this fear, yet that is not the whole explanation. Even those who know and accept the law of reincarnation often continue to fear death. Clearly, something more than knowledge is lacking.
Just as a person who understands that smoking is harmful, and even wishes to give it up, may still persist in the habit because of attachment to its sensations, so too a person who knows that the life of his consciousness never ceases continues to hold on to the life of his body until he gains sufficient spiritual experience—until he is spiritually nourished.
Spiritual sustenance comes with the realization of one’s participation in the One Life—of one’s essential unity and inseparability from it. To be free from the fear of death, one must feel one’s own wholeness apart from the body. Purely intellectual understanding of the continuity of existence does not lead to confidence in the future; a person will still retain the fear of death until he is fed on the spiritual plane.
There are many ways to receive such spiritual nourishment, and those who seek spiritual growth find the means most suited to them. Yet in every case, spiritual nourishment must accompany human development along with all other forms of nourishment.
Moderate, that is, sufficient spiritual nourishment brings cheerfulness, optimism, inspiration, and readiness for whatever turns fate may bring. It can truly be said that optimism is a measure of one’s spiritual maturity.
Indeed, not only the fear of death but every kind of fear reveals a lack of spiritual nourishment. A person may overcome the fear of death and yet retain the fear of being deceived or betrayed; of seeing his religion or teaching trampled by others; of his country being conquered or destroyed. In other words, any attachment to one’s own mental constructs about the world can awaken within us fear, uncertainty about the future, and either pessimism and apathy or, on the contrary, aggression.
When we are spiritually nourished by the feeling of unity with the whole world, all intellectual frameworks in which we were born, raised, or have accepted from others become relative. We come to realize that all conditions of life are transient—religions, national borders, the existence of peoples, and, still more so, our personal selves. Everything is bound to change and pass into other states. Confidence in the endlessness of this process of transformation gives rise to an unshakable optimism and a spirit of goodwill toward all.
When it comes to overnourishment on the spiritual plane, two distinct cases must be considered.
First, the spiritual nature is most often regarded as the inner, subjective aspect of life. In this sense, true overnourishment is impossible, for the spiritual plane is not only the source of every form of energy but also the primordial state of every being. We depart from this state in order to gain experience, and when the necessary experience has been acquired, we simply return to our true, original, and natural sphere of existence.
Satiety on the spiritual level may then be understood as the completion of our journey — though only a relative completion, since what ends is but one of the vast cycles in which we have fulfilled a certain individual task through many incarnations and smaller rounds. For that purpose, a certain measure of potential energy was conditionally allotted to us; transformed into kinetic form, it impelled us to descend into denser layers of matter.
In this context, spiritual satiety is to be understood as the higher Self’s having gathered sufficient experience — a fullness — for the current cycle. And it must always be remembered that the life-path of the Self is endless: in due time, a new task will arise, and a new subjective or individual cycle will begin, bringing with it once more an irresistible thirst for life.
Secondly, the spiritual plane may be viewed from an objective standpoint — as the universal source of life for all beings. In this broader context, an example of spiritual overnourishment may be found when a person enters a community of individuals (or other beings) who are far more spiritually developed. Such a person may experience a sense of oppression, even of being overwhelmed or dazed, both on the sensory and mental levels, due to the excess of energy and the tension present in the surrounding space. For energy, in any of its forms, is one of the manifestations of spirit.
On the physical level, this sense of oppression may reveal itself through weakness, trembling, accelerated heartbeat, or various physiological disturbances.
| Plane of Being | Deficiency (Undernourishment) |
Moderate Nourishment | Excess (Overnourishment) |
|---|---|---|---|
| Physical — the craving for taste and fullness, the desire simply to live or to survive | exhaustion, loss of strength | a healthy, active body that does not draw attention to itself and allows one to function freely on other planes of being | gluttony, nausea, vomiting, dulling of mental faculties and sensory perception |
| Sensory — the thirst for sensations, the longing to feel or to experience life intensely | languor, apathy, melancholy, sadness, dissatisfaction | inner balance, comfort under any external conditions, heartfelt warmth toward all beings | emotional overstrain or overload — hysteria, nervous breakdown, irritability |
| Mental — the thirst for knowledge, the urge to understand and to experience mentally, to live trhough | uncertainty, indecision, self-reproach, self-torment, depression, irritability | keenness of thought, interest in exploration and discovery, self-contentment (a sense of inner stability), ability to accept another’s point of view | intellectual gluttony — excessive consumption of information without reflection: constant reading, watching films or television. Intellectual indigestion — loss of life’s meaning, superficial attitude toward everything |
| Spiritual* — the thirst for life as experience, the striving to comprehend and to outlive it | fear of death, clinging to life | cheerfulness, optimism, inspiration, readiness for any turns of fate, serene acceptance | on the subjective level — completion of the cycle of reincarnations, entry into Nirvana; on the objective level — a sense of oppression caused by the perception of more highly developed beings |
* Since this is the level of the Monad, whose development is guided by higher and more advanced beings, our personal participation at this level is minimal—yet it does exist. The thirst for life is exhausted only when the totality of experience required for our individuality has been attained. Although the scope of this experience is beyond our control, the speed of its acquisition is a parameter fully accessible to us and governed by our own free will.
Forms of Life and the Chain of Nourishment
Let us now return to the idea of the interconnection and interdependence of all beings. In the manifestation of the One Life, there are no external sources of energy or nourishment — all sources are internal. This means that every being lives by making use of other beings; yet it is equally true that each one must in turn serve as a source of life, or nourishment, for others.
In a broad outline, the chain of nourishment may be represented by six kingdoms of nature:
Ideally, nourishment would be drawn directly from energy itself, bypassing the long and complex process of chemical digestion. Humanity, however, has not yet reached that stage of evolution—a stage that will inevitably come, but lies still far ahead. Let us therefore consider the present state of things and examine how the chain of nourishment is arranged among the various kingdoms of nature. In the case of the human being, this question of interaction among the kingdoms acquires particular importance, for man possesses both reason and free will—and therefore bears responsibility for his choices. In the less developed kingdoms, all beings follow the laws of nature and feed in accordance with the conditions prescribed for their species. To man, however, the power of choice has been given. Man’s omnivorousness, being a physiological trait of his nature, is itself a reflection of that freedom. To learn to make the right choice is the essential evolutionary task of the human kingdom.
In the context of nourishment—or, more broadly, of giving and receiving—man must learn to choose in favor of harmonious coexistence with all beings: to take only what is necessary, to give all that he can, and to strive not only to avoid harming other lives but also to assist in their development. In other words, man must seek to become a co-worker with nature, discovering within himself her power, her purpose, and her means of realization.
The table Interaction among the Kingdoms of Nature presents the relationships among the four kingdoms most readily understood by us — the mineral, the plant, the animal, and the human. The interactions with the energetic or elemental kingdom, as well as with the kingdom of the gods, will be considered separately further on.
| GIVE | RECEIVE | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Minerals | Plants | Animals | Humans | |
| Minerals | chemical reactions, exchange of atoms and molecules, formation of new compounds | chemical elements for the construction of cells and for all vital processes; metabolism, the creation of more complex compounds with the absorption of energy (synthesis or anabolism) and the acquisition of energy through the breakdown of complex compounds into simpler ones (catabolism) | ||
| Plants | new chemical compounds, such as oxygen (О2) produced in photosynthesis, carbon dioxide (СО2) released in respiration, and nitrogen compounds formed through the fixation of atmospheric nitrogen (N) | humus providing a nourishing medium; food for parasitic plants | fruits for nourishment, as well as leaves, stems, and other parts; oxygen for breathing; shelter for birds and insects; materials for construction and clothing and within themselves — cells and fibres | |
| Animals | new compounds resulting from vital activity: digestion, respiration, and glandular function | fertilizers; cells and fibres | food for predators; a competitive environment that stimulates the perfection of sensory organs and physical qualities such as muscular strength and endurance | food; materials for clothing, medicine, and art; and within themselves — sensory organs, the nervous system, and the brain |
| Humans
(interactions on the bodily level correspond to those in the animal kingdom) |
new elements and compounds produced through synthesis and decomposition under laboratory, that is, non-natural, conditions | new species created through selection and genetic engineering | new species through selection and genetic engineering; psychic influences; increased mental activity and quickness of perception — the first stirrings of intellect, though not yet of reason | food (cannibalism); physical assistance; moral support; exchange of emotions; exchange of thoughts and knowledge |
Importantly, each kingdom of nature possesses not only its own distinctive qualities but also evolves through a constant interpenetration with the others. Every higher kingdom includes within itself all that has preceded it, while every lower kingdom serves as the substance and foundation for those above it. An animal organism, for instance, ceases to grow once it reaches a certain size; yet the vegetable kingdom active within that organism follows its own law, which urges perpetual growth. Hence the continuous renewal of its cells. Likewise, in all beings of both the animal and the vegetable kingdoms, there is an unceasing exchange of substances — chemical reactions that constitute the very life of the mineral realm.
The table above shows not only the interaction among individual representatives of the various kingdoms of nature, but also the relationships among the kingdoms as wholes. Thus, when it is said that animals give plants cells and fibres, it means that the vegetable world is present within every member of the animal kingdom in the form of its cells and fibres, and that as the animal evolves and perfects these structures, it contributes to the further development of the vegetable kingdom.
Similarly, the statement that humans give animals psychic elements and increased mental activity implies that humanity saturates the surrounding space with its own psychic and mental energy, creating a certain tension or field that serves as a nourishing medium for the corresponding but less developed faculties in animals. This influence extends throughout the planet, yet proximity to the source of radiation intensifies the effect — which is why domestic animals evolve more rapidly than their wild counterparts.
The four kingdoms presented in the table are the most objective for us and the easiest to perceive and understand. Yet there exist two other vast kingdoms which, being integral parts of our world, cannot remain outside the chain of nourishment. The kingdom preceding the mineral is the realm of energy — or of the elementals; the one following the human is the realm of the gods. Let us consider them more closely.
In its attempt to discover the ultimate indivisible particle, modern science — having already split the atom once thought to be indivisible — has reached the conclusion that, at a certain level of division, matter passes into energy. In other words, matter and energy are two opposing states of one and the same essence. This is among the most significant discoveries of our time — one which, as H. P. Blavatsky affirmed in her writings almost a century and a half ago, formed the very foundation of the most ancient teachings.
For our present purpose, this fact suggests that, prior to the appearance of the mineral kingdom, there existed another form of life — an energetic one. This form consisted of subtler states of matter whose variety is immense; yet what is of chief importance to us here is that these forms, though invisible to the ordinary eye, fill space no less than the visible ones. They permeate our very bodies and, more significantly for the present subject, they take part in the construction and maintenance of our vital processes. They too are expressions of the One Life and participate in the mutual interplay of its manifold manifestations.
Chemical elements and their compounds serve as the building material of our bodies, whilst chemical processes supply us with energy — this is the life of the mineral kingdom within us. Yet the mineral kingdom itself is upheld by the activity of the kingdom of energy, whose beings are the Elementals.
From a practical standpoint, this signifies that if we were able to direct energy — or, in other words, to interact consciously with the Elementals — we might synthesise any chemical compound. In terms of nourishment, it suggests that in order to sustain the full vitality of the organism, one might entirely dispense with physical food — not only of animal or vegetable, but even of mineral origin. Potentially, all the necessary elements could be synthesised, as the saying goes, “from the air”; though more precisely, it would be “from space”, since even air itself may be derived from energy.
Herein lies the secret of the prolonged survival of the Initiates when buried beneath the earth or submerged under the waters. Those who have mastered such abilities are known as sun-eaters or prana-eaters. Recognising that energy is an essential component in the life of all four kingdoms we have considered, we may the more readily understand the statement that this world is built and sustained by the Elementals, who, as entities, are centres of living energy and, collectively, constitute the elements — or the intrinsic properties of matter within space.
Let us now turn to the other side of the chain of nourishment. Until now we have considered only the kingdoms that precede the human on the path of evolution; yet we are told that evolution does not end with man. Beyond humanity there exists still another kingdom — the kingdom of the gods — of which, in truth, we can form only as faint and approximate a conception as an animal might form of the human kingdom.
Nevertheless, our mind demands reflection on this subject, and some food for thought has indeed been given. It is said that man nourishes the gods by his thinking, or that the feet of the gods rest upon the reason of man. Such allegories may help us to understand the nature of the relationship between humanity and the gods.
The gods do not descend to earth directly, but experience the physical world through us — using humanity as their organ of perception. This, however, should not be understood in the crude sense that a god, as a separate being, employs a particular person or group of people as instruments, like a microscope, a spacesuit, or a sensor. Rather, here too we must apply the idea of the One Life expressing itself through the mutual interpenetration of all forms of existence
Just as all the preceding kingdoms of nature are present within us and our body cannot be considered apart from them, so too the body of a god cannot be thought of apart from human intelligence. In other words, until man appeared, the gods were in a disembodied state. The human mind — though not the brain — is their “flesh”, their densest principle, the very substance that constitutes, so to speak, their body. Conversely, it may also be said that human thought would be impossible without the presence within us of a spark of divine essence.
Let us now turn to the Law of Cycles or Revolution, which is universal and applies also to the question of nourishment. The chain of nourishment closes upon the highest spiritual planes. From there descends the stream of energy that permeates all forms of life; its carriers are the Elementals, through whom the whole work of construction is accomplished.
Thus, through their activity the gods radiate energy, which brings into manifestation the centres of force — the Elementals. These, though they act as the agents of intelligent purpose and execute a truly intelligent design — the Divine Plan — do not themselves possess intelligence. They cannot, therefore, return to the gods what is needed for the building of the gods’ bodies. Hence arise the succeeding kingdoms, as stages in the evolution of a suitable vehicle or form — one not confined to blind obedience to a pre-established programme but able to reflect the intelligent principle itself.
Prior to the advent of man, the gods can be said to have built this world blindly, acting through the Elementals in a one-way process — issuing commands but not seeing their fulfilment. With the advent of humanity, however, a feedback became possible [1].
Continuing this thought, we may add that the one source of nourishment — in theosophical terms — is Âtma, the highest of the principles in the constitution of every being. It is the âtmic radiation, or âtmic aura, which is the quickening principle and the representative of Fohat — the cosmic electricity, the dynamic energy of the universe.
Hence, a person who dedicates his life to the service of God (or of the gods), to the attainment of his Higher Self, or to the study of the laws of the cosmos, thereby directs his being toward the spiritual spheres and nourishes them in return, sending back the very current of energy that descends from them. The less of this energy he transmits to the sensory and physical planes, the more swiftly it flows back to its source. Such individuals close the circuit of energy more rapidly, reducing its loss in overcoming the resistance of denser matter [2]. Consequently, a greater current passes through them, and their evolution proceeds more swiftly. Their bodies possess a stronger immune system; their feelings are purer; their thoughts more exalted; their perception of truth less obscured.
Thus, our feeding of the gods with ourselves differs fundamentally from the feeding of ourselves through the lower kingdoms of nature. Our nourishment — except in the case of the prāṇa-eaters — is based upon destruction; the nourishment of the gods is based upon interaction.
True, not every form of interaction with the divine realm, nor every appeal to it, will be of equal quality or fruitfulness. In this matter, the sincerity of one’s aspiration is far more important than ritual observance. The latter may serve as an aid to concentration in the work of service, yet it may also become a distraction.
The chief result to which we should aspire is a deeper realization of the One Life. In the context of this article, such realization should lead us to perceive the extent of the harm we inflict upon that One Life — in the sense of retarding the development of its various representatives — according to what we choose to consume as food. The more individualized a consciousness we compel to interrupt prematurely its process of gaining experience in embodied existence, the greater the injury we cause to the universal course of evolution.
On the basis of these considerations, we may now proceed to examine the types of physical nourishment — that is, the various forms of diet.
Types of Nourishment
Let us first arrange the types of nourishment in the order of decreasing karmic effects:
Each of these main types can be divided into numerous subtypes according to the same principle of diminishing harm to oneself and to other living beings. Leaving aside, fortunately, the rarely encountered cannibalism and, unfortunately, the still rare sun-eating (or prāṇa-eating), let us list the more familiar kinds of food common to most people today, placing them likewise in the order of decreasing negative karma:
- meat of mammals: pork, beef, etc.;
- meat of other animals: poultry, reptiles, etc.;
- eggs;
- fish and other cold-blooded animals;
- aquatic creatures (other than mammals): crab, shrimp, oysters, jellyfish, etc.;
- insects: beetles, caterpillars, and the like;
- plants after heat treatment: vegetables, fruits, roots, tea, and the like;
- raw plant food.
It is not easy to change one’s diet at once, even with deep awareness and a sincere aspiration to make one’s life more righteous. Yet the transition can be made gradually by applying the principle of substitution. We often — if not always — have a choice of what to eat in order to satisfy hunger. Therefore, choose that which causes the least harm, and strive not to consume more than what is truly necessary.
The same line of reasoning can be applied to the question of what is best to feed our carnivorous pets when we choose their food — whether it be based on beef, chicken, or fish. And it is certainly better if they also eat porridge, soups, bread, and other vegetarian dishes from our table
Some products, such as milk and honey, have a special nature and require additional reflection to determine where exactly they belong on the scale of karmic effects. Yet the general rule remains valid for them as well: the less we disturb other beings in maintaining our own life, the better it is — both for them and for ourselves.
Of course, there are many aspects to the question of nourishment. There is such a phenomenon as symbiosis, when two (or more) different species sustain their life through each other. Yet these are special cases that do not violate the general reasoning, and the principle of interaction among living beings, discussed above, will help us to live in greater harmony with the world around us.
Starting from the idea of the One Life, we must recognize that we cannot live without affecting others or other forms of existence. The fear of causing harm to anyone or anything through our actions is meaningless; for, first, we cannot avoid using external resources for our own survival, and second, in most situations of life we simply do not know what will be best — either for ourselves or for those around us. This ignorance is a natural limitation that arises from our own imperfection.
Therefore, we are advised not to become fixated on the idea of perfection, but, while striving toward it, to give greater attention to our motivation and awareness in making choices. It is right motivation and conscious choice that ensure our progress along the path of self-perfection and bring us closer to the ideal.
The ideal itself, however, is unattainable by definition — by the very structure of the universe — for it represents a state opposite to individual existence. Yet its unattainability does not make it useless. On the contrary, the loftiness of the ideal enables us to orient ourselves by it, whatever the difficulty or seeming hopelessness of the situation in which we may find ourselves.
Let us, then, choose for ourselves an ideal that is sufficiently high — and strive toward it. We have no choice as to whether to nourish ourselves or not, but what we take in and what we give forth — that remains our choice.
Footnotes
- ↑ True, this symbolic representation, strictly speaking, does not correspond to the full reality, for we know that evolution is continuous, and at any given moment there exist beings at many different levels of development. Yet, in general terms, the proposed scheme does not contradict the essential nature of the interaction among the kingdoms of nature and helps us to grasp the unique position of the human being within it.
- ↑ This is the meaning of the idea that all beings strive to become human. With the advent of man, the gods begin to know the world; before that, they were only building it.