The Word Foundation


Harold W. Percival



Section 5

The Way in the earth. The ongoer leaves the world. The form path; what he sees there. Shades of the dead. “Lost” portions of doers. The choice.

Having described The Way in the body and The Way of thinking, there remains to be treated the third of The Threefold Way, The Way in the earth, on which the progress described in the foregoing sections is enacted.

When the ties have fallen away, when there are no obligations to family, community and country, and when he feels no attachment, the human leaves and is lost sight of by his associates in the world. At that time he feels a desire to go away and has the means for so doing. He becomes an ongoer and prepares for the form path. The manner of his going is inconspicuous and natural. He goes to live among simple people, not to be a hermit or ascetic, but to lead a simple, orderly, unnoticed life. There he is in an atmosphere of simplicity and adjusts his body to the gradual changes which his thinking and feeling bring about. His work, his business, his study is thinking, only thinking, to obtain the use and control of his body-mind, feeling-mind, and desire-mind. He will encounter dangers, not as spectacular trials, but in the ordinary course of his life, to establish confidence and equanimity. Though he moves among the people of a tribe or village, he has little commerce with them. He has only one associate and that is a companion.

It may be that the companion meets the ongoer before the ties have fallen away or after the travels have begun or while the stay among the simple people lasts. From the time the companion meets the ongoer, he is with him and travels with him.

The companion is a human being but one acquainted with the forces of the four planes of the earth and with human nature. He usually belongs to a fraternity whose purpose is to study and use forces of nature and that has an understanding of the history of the doer. It is made up of men who live in the world, but in secluded places. They are outposts in different parts of the globe; some of them lived in America before the Spaniards came. Many of them can command some elemental beings and have rare psychic and mental powers. They know and can make use of certain laws of nature of which science, comparatively speaking, knows little or nothing. While they are secluded they may, when necessary, move among throngs; they have played a part in all crises in history; if mentioned they are usually called names meaning skill in control of forces or objects of nature. This fraternity, with different orders, is a way station and outpost where ongoers towards The Great Way, who cannot go on, remain and learn. Among the duties of a member of this fraternity is that of being a companion to an ongoer when necessary. The companion, though he may live hundreds of years, will die sometime, but the ongoer will conquer death.

When the companion meets the ongoer and makes himself known, he may ask what his destination is and on being told, he may say: “I am here to help you on a part of the journey. Are you ready to go on and to have me as your guide? If you take me you must trust me and go where I shall lead you. If you do not, you will not find the way alone and you will fall back into the world.” The ongoer accepts the companion, understanding that he is sent by those who know, and with the approval of his own knower.

The companion informs him about the form and structure of the outer earth crust, about states of matter, how they interpenetrate, about racial developments and external nature, about the cycles of religions and about the fraternity to which the companion belongs. Together the companion and the ongoer go from place to place. Their journeys may be less than a hundred miles or they may take in a large part of the surface of the earth and consume weeks or years, until the ongoer is familiar with the earth, and his nerves are so tested and under control that he can continue his journey.

When the time comes the companion leads the ongoer to an opening into the earth. It may be in a forest, in a mountain or under a building where no opening is seen. It may be under water or where gases issue or in a volcano. The companion bids his friend, who knows he may never see him again, farewell, and a new guide appears.

The ongoer and his guide leave the surface and enter the earth. That is, for the ongoer, the beginning of the form path. Shortly before this time or soon after, the lunar germ enters the filament.

The guide has the human form, has usually a moon colored body, is neither man or woman. He belongs to another race of beings, speaks the language of the ongoer and has an understanding far beyond that of a human being. The ongoer feels strange and the guide knows it. There is no announcement. They go on together from daylight into darkness. Gradually the ongoer becomes accustomed to the darkness and sees by a new kind of light. The guide points out, here and there, sections through which they are passing, and the ongoer develops the ability to see outlines and then distinct forms and colors, in the dark. This requires the training of the eye as an instrument, of the nervous systems as a whole, and of the breath-form.

They come to a new world, inside the earth crust, a world existing on many levels. At first the ongoer is limited by the one dimension, on-ness, which is a barrier to perception as on the outer crust, where one cannot see within surfaces. Slowly he develops the power to perceive a second dimension, in-ness, to see within and between surfaces.

The new world is like spaces in a sponge; but some of the chambers, passages and labyrinths are vast in size, hundreds of miles long and high, and some only small pockets. The structure of the floors and walls ranges in density from that of metal to porosity and the lightness of foam. Some of them are drab, others are colored similarly to but often more delicately or brilliantly than landscapes on the outer surface. The ongoer sees great mountains, vast plains, cauldrons of fluids churning and lashing where earth currents coming in meet the outgoing earth forces. He sees where currents of air strike fluid substances and burst into flame, forming rivers of fire. He sees strange things in many colors, among them an immense desert of what looks like a white powder, amidst which cliffs, some of crystal, rise. He sees quiet surfaces of water and of other fluids, in lakes hundreds of miles in length.

No sun, no moon and no stars are seen. There is no visible central source of light, but he sees either the distant roofs of the chambers or limitless air lit by an inner earth light, which is made by a mingling of transient units. There is no night and no day. There are no shadows, except at the outer limits of the inner earth light, and even they have no distinct outline.

In some chambers are fierce winds, in others a calm. The air is colder in some districts than anything known on the crust. In some places the heat is so severe that human flesh could not endure it, but ordinarily the temperature is agreeable to the body. He travels on foot or at times in vehicles made of metal or compositions drawn from the air, and gliding with speed over the ground.

Two regions he cannot cross, one because the ground holds him, as a magnet holds a needle, the other because the ground repels his body. The vehicle glides like a sled over the magnetic ground, but the repellent ground cannot be traveled by him. He has to cross and recross the magnetic ground in his sled until it loses its attraction for him. Then he approaches the repellent ground and attempts to cross it, returning after each failure to the magnetic ground to get strength, until the matter has no longer power to attract or repel him. The overcoming of these forces regulates the structure of the cells in his body so that they are neither male nor female.

He travels on water in a boat propelled by a water force; he crosses oceans, one below the other, greater than the Atlantic and much deeper. The ongoer sees forests, single trees and plants, arranged as they grow on the earth, but there is much that would seem strange to human beings. Green is not the prevailing color. In some sections it is absent. In different districts and on different levels different colors predominate. The foliage is red, blue, green, pink, black or shining white, and some of it is many colored. Some leaves are geometrical in form, some are globular, some twenty feet long. There are edible flowers, fruits, grains; some are cultivated, some grow wild.

He sees animals, some of them like those on the outer crust and many of strange types. On the levels nearest to the outer crust are some ferocious beasts. They live where there are degenerate tribes and fierce races. In the regions farther inside the animals are strange, but docile and friendly. Few of them have tails. Many have no teeth. In shape some of them are graceful. The types of the animal forms are furnished by thoughts of the human races inside; what animates these creatures are parts of the cast-off feelings and desires of those human races.

As the eyes of the ongoer are being trained to focus, he sees that there are no sharp lines separating objects, but that all are connected by an interplay of the matter that composes them. So he sees the water element in the chambers and that it is flowing matter, and that some of it is passing through solid walls which retain particles of it and let go some of their own matter to be carried on in the flow. He thus becomes familiar with in-ness and his sight reaches into and he sees inside and between the surfaces of objects.

In some places he sees the shades of persons whose life on the earth crust death has ended. The shades are such as are no longer attracted to their earthly haunts or decaying bodies. The shades are the breath-form, the four senses and the embodied portion of the doer, without the Light of the Intelligence. They are dreaming over scenes of the life that has passed. Their thoughts are the matrices into which the flowing matter passes and to which it gives body and so makes the scenery and the persons of their dreams. The shades move, drone, ponder and wander in their chambers. Sometimes they float through each other, but each is unconscious of the others and of everything except its dream. Now and then a shade disappears, when it is wakened by a strong desire evoked through necromancy. The shades called to mediumistic seances may remain a while in the atmospheres of the living, before they are drawn back to go on with their after death states. The shades disturbed by necromancy cannot return to their dream; they may wait in a dazed condition or go on with the after death states.

In other places he sees the portions of doers working out the decrees which were pronounced in their Halls of Judgment. He sees the doers enacting the scenes of the past life according to the thoughts they had had. He could not see this if he were not on The Way and had not left the world. The thoughts of these doers are the molds into which the flow of matter is shaped, over and over again. The doers have their breath-forms, which are like the former personalities, and see, hear, taste, smell and feel somewhat as they did on the outer crust. The doers themselves cannot be seen, any more than they can be seen in life.

In a special place he sees “lost” portions of doers, some lost untold years ago, and some who failed even within his own time. Some of them are ape-like forms without hair, their skin grey, clay-colored, their eyes bleary, their mouths big and slimy; others are large, whitish worms with little hands and feet; others are like leeches with little human heads and long arms and legs with which they cling; and others appear in various forms—but all exhibiting most disgusting features. These things are male and female and have periods of orgies and of deathly silence. Sometimes they disappear, blending into the landscape, and leave an atmosphere of death behind. Then they reappear with hollow roaring, with echoing wails and shrieks, and begin their orgies. But these are empty; there is no sensation.

Among the “lost” doers he sees are those lost because of their selfishness and enmity to the human race. They are separated from the lustful. Some are like great spiders with wicked eyes, some like vampires or crabs with human faces and devilish eyes, some like snakes with legs and wings. Each of them lives separately among the brush or hanging from the rocky roofs or hiding among the stones on the ground. The spiders can leap fifty feet, the bats sail noiselessly, wolf-like forms with horns and bristly heads prowl about, cruel cat-like things with long snaky bodies spring, all to kill. But for some the killing is not the sole object; they want blood or the pleasure of torturing. Many attack each other. But none of them get any satisfaction. There is an aching, an emptiness in them at all times, which causes them to search for something, and that they cannot find.

He sees other things which have come from the outer crust; doers lost through an unwise religious devotion, who are called the “ancient dead.” They have devoted themselves to a personal God or Gods or to nature and have wished to be absorbed in or to identify themselves with their deities or with nature. Most of these doers belong to former ages, but some belong to more recent times. They have worshipped their Gods devotedly, irrespective of a reasonable, universal moral code to which they had access in their religious system, and often against what reason showed and conscience forbade. They sought the favor of their deities from selfish motives. They performed nature rites and ceremonies and offered their thoughts in praise and flattery and in prayer for material gifts and for absorption in the almighty deities. They prayed for favors and did not conquer themselves. In their thinking and their thoughts went out the Light of the Intelligences. The deities were insatiable.

When all the Light available in their mental atmospheres had been sent out, the human beings thereby cut themselves off from the Light of their Intelligences. After death they did not return to the non-embodied portions of their doers, but went into their nature gods. They lost their identity temporarily, because nature gods have no identity except such as they get from the thoughts of the doer portions in human bodies; and they were not absorbed because doer portions can never again become part of nature. So after death they went into a form in one of the four elements or they passed from form to form.

The ongoer sees them in stones, in water, in winds and in fire. They are conscious and dissatisfied, like maniacs trying to find out who they are. Sometimes he hears cries coming from a rock or tree or water: “Who?,” or “Where?” or “Lost, Lost.”

The guide takes him through many countries, in which are varieties of human beings. They travel along different layers and from one layer to others. Different conditions exist on the different layers. Thus the force of gravitation is strongest near the outer crust and after that point is passed, decreases gradually as they advance into the crust, and finally ceases.

The ongoer sees many peoples. Nearest to the crust the races are wild and degenerate; they eat raw flesh and drink strong intoxicants. But farther in the people are peaceable and cultured. Nearly all the races are white. Some of them are acquainted with the earth and have power over its forces. In an instant they can melt, split and make or dissipate rocks. They can remove weight from an object or give it weight. They can develop new kinds of plants and fruits. In many of the layers some can fly as easily as they can move on a surface. Sometimes many join and rise into the air, where their thinking, because of the adaptability of the matter, tints the air in shining waves of color. Some of the people in some races can see into and through objects in the layer in which they are, but usually they cannot see into the layer on either side. Some can see through the earth crust and see the matter on either side of the crust. Others can hear in the same way, and still others can both see and hear.

The people in the earth crust are human beings, but who are not akin to any human races now on the crust. Some have never left the interior. The ongoer meets people of the race to which his guide belongs.

Some of the people he meets from time to time warn him against his guide; some invite him to leave his guide and to stay with them, offering him the peace, plenty and power they enjoy, or promising to show him wonders and reveal mysteries greater than any his guide will or can show him; some threaten him. The guide often absents himself, but if present offers no objection or inducement. Should any ongoer yield to the allurements he will not see the guide again, and he fails to reach the end of The Way.

During these wanderings the guide explains the structure of the inner earth, its forces and history, the phenomena and their causes and reactions, and the changes as history and the nature of the entities encountered. He explains the illusions of time and of the dimensions of matter and the relative reality of all these things, which are seen as illusions. He explains the powers and behavior of feeling-and-desire, what it means to travel the form path and issue into the form world as a being of that world. He explains that the ongoer must balance his thoughts, and that the end of The Way is in the balancing.

At length the ongoer is left alone. Darkness settles upon him, reaches into him and fills him. He would like to escape, but he does not. He seems to be dead, but he is conscious. His senses are not active. Gradually beings appear, human and non-human. He denounces them, but cannot drive them away. They look into him and reach into him and he knows they are a part of him. He sees their purpose. They want to continue to live by getting their life from him. Then he knows they are his thoughts. He balances them one by one as they come. More of them come. He can see that they are equal to physical events. He withdraws from them the power to become physical. He pronounces judgment upon them in relation to himself. This judgment dissipates them. A calm comes to him. His guide reappears and greets him.

The guide says that he will help him if he wishes to enter the form world in the new body he has within; but that if he decides to take the life path, he will lead him to another guide. The ongoer, though sorry to part with his guide, declares he will go on.

The path was hitherto within the earth crust and stretched for a distance which is about a third of half of the circumference of the earth. While the ongoer went along the form path his body changed in structure and in nature. It now has little or no weight and does not require solid food. It has lines so perfect and proportionate that in nobility and grace it excels any body on the crust. The intestinal canal has become a short columnar passage and the bridge has been built connecting the involuntary nervous structure within that columnar passage directly with the voluntary system at the coccyx. Within the filament has been developed an embryonic form body.