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Power vs. Force: The Hidden Determinants of Human Behavior The following excerpt is taken from the new book Power vs. Force: The Hidden Determinants of Human Behavior, by David R. Hawkins, M.D., Ph.D. It is published by Hay House, Inc., and available at all bookstores, by phone 800-654-5126, or via the Internet at www.hayhouse.com. While the truths reported in this book were scientifically derived and objectively organized, like all truths, they were first experienced personally. Beginning at a very young age, a lifelong sequence of intense states of awareness first inspired, and then gave direction to, the process of subjective realization that has finally taken form in this book. When I was three years old, a sudden, full consciousness of existence occurred, a subverbal but complete understanding of the meaning of I am--followed immediately by the frightening realization that "I" might not have come into existence at all. This was an instant awakening from oblivion into a conscious awareness of being itself. In that moment, the personal self was born, and the duality of Is and Is not entered my subjective awareness. Throughout childhood and early adolescence, the paradox of existence and the question of the reality of the self remained a repeated concern for me. The personal self would sometimes begin slipping back into a greater, impersonal Self, and the initial fear of non-existence, the fundamental fear of Nothingness, would recur. Awakening the Presence In 1939, I was a paperboy in rural Wisconsin. I had a 17-mile route, and one dark winter's night, I was caught miles from home in a blizzard. The temperature was 20 degrees below zero, and my bicycle had toppled over on an icy, snow-covered field. A fierce wind ripped out the newspapers that I carried in my handlebar basket, strewing them across the terrain. I broke into tears of frustration and exhaustion; my clothes were frozen stiff, and I was so far from home. To get out of the wind, I broke through the icy crust of a high snowbank and dug out a place to burrow into. I soon stopped shivering, and I felt a delicious warmth . . . and then a state of peace beyond all description. This was accompanied by a suffusion of light and a presence of infinite love, which had no beginning and no end, and which was indistinguishable from my own essence. I became oblivious of my physical body and surroundings as my awareness fused with this all-present illuminated state. My mind grew silent; all thought stopped. An infinite Presence was all that was or could be, and it was beyond time or description. After what seemed like eons, I was drawn back to an awareness of someone shaking my knee--my father's anxious face subsequently appeared. I felt most reluctant to return to my body and all that it entailed . . . but I loved my father dearly, and because of his anguish, I chose to do so. In a detached way, I sympathized with his fear of my death, but at the same time, the concept of "death" seemed absurd to me. I didn't discuss this experience with anyone. There was no context available with which to comprehend it; I had never heard of spiritual experiences (other than those reported in the lives of the saints). But after this experience, the accepted reality of the world began to seem only provisional; traditional religious teaching lost significance, and, paradoxically, I became an agnostic. Compared to the light of divinity that I had felt bathing all existence, the god of traditional religion shone dully indeed. I had lost religion . . . but discovered spirituality. *** During World War II, I was assigned to hazardous duty on a minesweeper, and often brushed close to death--but unlike my fellow crew members, I had no fear of it. It was as though death had lost its authenticity. After the war, I worked my way through medical school, as I was fascinated by the complexities of the mind and wanted to study psychiatry. My training psychoanalyst, a professor at Columbia University, was also an agnostic—both of us took a dim view of religion. The analysis went well, as did my career, and I became quite successful. However, I didn't settle quietly into professional life: I succumbed to a progressive and fatal illness that didn't respond to any available treatment. By the time I was 38, I knew I was about to die. I didn't care about my body, but my spirit was in a state of extreme anguish and despair. As my final moment approached, the thought flashed through my mind, What if there is a God? So I called out in prayer, "If there is a God, I ask Him to help me now." I surrendered to whatever God there might be, and went unconscious. When I awoke, a transformation of such enormity had taken place that I was struck dumb with awe. The person I had been no longer existed. There was no personal self or ego left--just an Infinite Presence of such unlimited power that it was all that was. This Presence had replaced what had been "me," and my body and its actions were controlled solely by the Presence's infinite will. The world was illuminated by the clarity of an Infinite Oneness, which expressed itself as all things revealed in their immeasurable beauty and perfection. For nine months, this stillness persisted. I had no will of my own; unbidden, my physical entity went about its business under the direction of the infinitely powerful, but exquisitely gentle, will of the Presence. In that state, there was no need to think about anything. All truth was self-evident; no conceptualization was necessary or even possible. At the same time, my nervous system felt extremely overtaxed, as though it were carrying far more energy than its circuits had been designed for. I was unable to function effectively in the world. Along with fear and anxiety, all of my ordinary motivations had disappeared. There was nothing to seek, as all was perfect. Fame, success, and money were meaningless to me. Friends urged me to be pragmatic and return to my practice, but I had no incentive to do so. However, I discovered that I could perceive the reality that underlay personalities; I saw how the origin of emotional sickness lay in people's belief that they were their personalities. And so, of its own, my practice resumed and eventually became huge. People came to see me from all over the United States--I treated 1,000 new patients a year. I eventually had 50 therapists and other employees working for me; 2,000 outpatients; a suite of 25 offices; and research and electroencephalic laboratories. I was invited to appear on radio and network television shows--including The MacNeil/Lehrer News Hour, the Today show, and The Barbara Walters Show. In 1973, I reported on the work I was doing in the book Orthomolecular Psychiatry (with Nobelist Linus Pauling as co-author), and it seemed to strike a nerve with many people. Love, Radiance, and Miracles The overall condition of my nerves improved slowly, and then another phenomenon began—a sweet, delicious band of energy started to flow continuously up my spine and into my brain, where it created an intense sensation of continuous pleasure. Everything in life happened by synchronicity, evolving in perfect harmony, and the miraculous was commonplace. The origin of what the world would call miracles was the Presence, not my personal self. What remained of the personal "me" was only a witness to these phenomena. The greater "I," deeper than my own self or my own thoughts, determined all that happened. The states I was experiencing had been reported by others; I began investigating spiritual Everything and everyone in the world was luminous and exquisitely beautiful to me. All living things became radiant, and expressed this radiance in stillness and splendor. It was apparent that all of mankind is actually motivated by inner love, but has simply become unaware; most people live their lives as though they're sleepers unawakened to the perception of who they really are. All those around me looked as if they were asleep, but they were incredibly beautiful--I was in love with everyone. I had to stop my habitual practice of meditating for an hour in the morning and then again before dinner because it would intensify the bliss to such an extent that I could not function. An experience similar to the one I had as a boy in the snowbank would recur, but it became increasingly difficult to leave that state and return to my surroundings. The incredible beauty of all things shone forth in all its perfection, and where the world saw ugliness, I saw only timeless beauty. This spiritual love permeated all of my perception; all boundaries between here and there, then and now, or me and you disappeared. I spent years in inner silence, and the strength of the Presence grew. I had no personal life--my personal will no longer existed. I was an instrument of the Infinite Presence, and I went about and did as it willed. People felt an extraordinary peace in the aura of that Presence; seekers sought answers from me, but as there was no such individual as "David" any longer, I saw that what these people were doing was finessing answers from their own selves, which were no different from mine. As I looked at each person, my self shone forth from their eyes. How did I get into all these bodies? I wondered. The miraculous happened, beyond ordinary comprehension. Many chronic maladies from which I had suffered for years disappeared; my eyesight spontaneously normalized, and I no longer needed the bifocals I had worn for much of my life. Occasionally I would feel an exquisitely blissful energy--an infinite love--that would suddenly begin to radiate from my heart toward the scene of some calamity. For instance, I was once driving on a highway when this amazing energy began to beam out of my chest. As I rounded a bend, I saw that an auto accident had just occurred; in fact, the wheels of the upturned car were still spinning. The energy passed, with great intensity, from me to the occupants of the car, and then it stopped of its own accord. Another time, I was walking down the streets of a strange city, when the energy started to flow down the block ahead of me. I happened to arrive at the scene of an incipient gang fight, and the combatants fell back and began to laugh. Then the energy stopped again. Profound changes of perception came, without warning, in improbable circumstances. While dining alone at a restaurant on Long Island, the Presence suddenly intensified until every person and thing, which had appeared separate in ordinary perception, melted into a timeless universality and oneness. In the motionless silence, I saw that there are no "events" or "things" and that nothing actually "happens" because past, present, and future are merely artifacts of perception, as is the illusion of a separate "I," subject to birth and death. As my limited, false self dissolved into the universal Self of its true origin, there was an ineffable sense of having returned home, a state of absolute peace and relief from all suffering. For it's only the illusion of individuality that is the origin of all suffering--when one realizes that one is the universe, complete and at one with all that is, forever without end, then no further suffering is possible. |
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