“In answering this question G. told me several things which I did not understand till later.
“Even if you found schools you would find only ‘philosophical’ schools,” he said. “In India there are only ‘philosophical’ schools. It was divided up in that way long ago; in India there was ‘philosophy,’ in Egypt ‘theory,’ and in present-day Persia, Mesopotamia, and Turkestan--’practice.’
“And does it remain the same now?” I asked.
“In part even now,” he said. “But you do not clearly understand what I mean by ‘philosophy,’ ‘theory,’ and ‘practice.’ These words must be understood in a different way, not in the way they are usually understood.
“But speaking of schools, there are only special schools; there are no general schools. Every teacher, or guru, is a specialist in some one thing. One is an astronomer, another a sculptor, a third a musician. And all the pupils of each teacher must first of all study the subject in which he has specialized, then, afterwards, another subject, and so on. It would take a thousand years to study everything.”
“But how did you study?”
“I was not alone. There were all kinds of specialists among us. Everyone studied on the lines of his particular subject. Afterwards, when we forgathered, we put together everything we had found.”
“And where are your companions now?”
G. was silent for a time, and then said slowly, looking into the distance:
“Some have died, some are working, some have gone into seclusion.”
Excerpt taken from In Search of the Miraculous by P. D. Ouspensky, pub. Paul H. Crompton Ltd, 2004, p 15-16.
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