When anthroposophy fails, it succeeds. This is an odd lesson I learnt a little while ago. It may seem a strange piece of wisdom, but once you stop and think about it, it isn’t so weird at all.
As you have probably guessed already, because you possess quicker minds than I do, this has to do with the fact that in the hidden realms, things are not what they seem to be in the material realm. The occult world operates in disguise and contrary to appearances. It is self-evident, and I can’t quite believe I was so slow to catch on. It’s true I had suspected something along these lines, but hadn’t before seen the intriguing argument for this optimistic position expressed so clearly.
My non-Swedish readers are unaware of the utterly undramatic backstory: the choice some years ago of an anthroposophical food company, locally well-known, to abandon biodynamics — or rather not to pay its associated farmers extra for it — has contributed to a decrease in biodynamically farmed land. Biodynamic practices have been criticized as unscientific, but perhaps even more just laughed at, which recently served as a cause for a newspaper interview with the company’s managing director. An interview in which he distanced himself, and this anthroposophically owned company (it is owned by several anthroposophical foundations), from biodynamics. This is, I’d say, quite remarkable in itself considering this company’s standing within the anthroposophical movement but also outside of it.
Naturally, an anthroposophical company is not obliged to adhere to biodynamic principles (in favour of, for example, financial ones), there are others who don’t, but it can hardly be seen as a success for the biodynamic method when it is abandoned. And that’s the point, I guess. It appears like a failure for the biodynamic method, and for anthroposophy as a whole. And it is a puzzling move, considering the company ownership and its history — seeing its past source of pride, so to speak, going down the drain.
But I was advised that this isn’t actually a problem at all, a conclusion which may serve as comfort for anyone unnerved by the developments or as a cause for concern for those who want anthroposophy to vanish. It all depends on your starting point.
What looks like a failure and sounds like a failure (and I think, if you were a dog, smells like a failure) — isn’t a failure.
Anthroposophically speaking, things are never what they seem to be to us materialists. It is actually quite typical of people like me — who fail to gain a proper perspective on the occult truths — to be clinging to the crude facts of the situation as they appear to one’s physical senses in the year of 2016.
As I perceived it, there were two main arguments why anthroposophy is succeeding while ostensibly it’s failing. The first is the long-term perspective (how anthroposophy loves the long-term perspective!): lack of success right now is merely a small glitch, over the course of many years this small glitch is but a grain of sand on a beach of success. Perhaps it isn’t even a glitch, it only looks like one; it could just be some insignificant sign-of-the-times: people don’t understand now, but they will. After all, no matter how things look, the whole point is that anthroposophy must win in the end, that is how it is supposed to be! And it is winning, it is taking over the world — in secret! And if people keep saying this, in the end it must be true, perhaps because mental images shape reality. In this marvellous way, anthroposophists are thinking a whole universe of success into existence — the agile workings of reality, which appear to send these successes back into oblivion, are successfully ignored. It’s a fascinating trick of magic, but if it works out in the end, we will know only in some future incarnation.
Of course, what they say is: behind the scenes, in the higher worlds, it is working. Keep believing, is what they don’t say, because it’s not supposed to be about belief, but about truth. It is working! It is paving its way into the world, into people’s hearts, changing minds — though nobody notices it. The surface glitches aside, it’s working in the subconscious.
Which leads to the second other argument, which, if I understood it correctly (I think they’re both essentially related to each other), is that biodynamics, despite not succeeding in the real world, still succeeds homeopathically; in the occult, it works its wonders all the time, like the entire anthroposophical movement, in doses so tiny, yet so potent! Not only are occult carrots being farmed, but the world is silently rescued from doom and disaster. Only homeopathically, of course, which is why we still see all those disasters and catastrophes — on the surface of things. Hidden underneath the mayhem lurks a paradise. This brand of success is hard to detect for the materialistically inclined human being of today who cannot “keep up”. The view, interestingly enough, allows the anthroposophist (satisfied at the thought, one presumes) to be the center of a gigantic drama that transforms the world, despite the fact that in the material world nothing whatsoever happens.
Oddly enough, I have yet to come across the viewpoint that when anthroposophy ostensibly has some success in the so-called real world — which happens, from time to time, usually (I suspect) when people apply themselves to a task rather than to dreaming a vision into being — it is in fact failing in the long-run or in the hidden realms. Or does the argument perhaps not work in the opposite direction?
I guess not.