This is essentially an age of work, of action, when all the forces of man's nature seem to be engaged in a terrible struggle, the outcome of which no man can tell, for "the makers of history" can rarely correctly predict the result of the work and efforts.
Now what is this "work" and why should all men engage in this apparently inevitable and ceaseless struggle — a struggle very often for bare physical existence? If we substitute for the word "work" the word "action" we may perhaps be able to arrive at some sort of solution of the seeming puzzle. Turn we now to Nature — of which man is an integral part — and let us see if we can learn from her methods in this matter. We see on all sides ceaseless eternal motion; ceaseless action, ceaseless change and we perceive, too, that this change is inevitable. It is the law of growth, as it is of decay and death. Therefore it is unavoidable and man, in common with all other forms of being, falls under the sway of this law which he finds to be also the law of his own being. There is no standing still in Nature; movement — or action — is involuntary and it is for man — man who possesses the divine right of choice, of freewill — to choose whether he will work in willing cooperation with Nature or whether he will oppose his petty little self of passion and desire to the onward march of evolution, only to be forever wheeled back again into line, as it were, until pain and suffering bring him to his senses.
In that wonderful little book, the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna exhorts Arjuna to the performance of his "natural duty" and tells him that "it is better to do one's own duty, even though it be devoid of excellence, than to perform another's duty well." Now it is in these words, I think, that we may find the key to the problem, the answer to the question which is forced upon us in the practical consideration of the subject of work, or more properly speaking, action. What then is our "natural" duty? The place in which we find ourselves being, as we believe, the result of Karmic law, of our own thoughts and deeds in past lives, it must surely follow that our "natural" duty lies first of all in the staying where we are. In striving to faithfully perform all those tasks — it matters not whether they be small or great — which lie ready to our hand, quite near to us, easy to find, we shall best fulfil the demands of the great law — for this is our "natural" duty.
Now we are in the Kali Yug, the black — or iron — age, when (it is said) more can be done in a given period than in any other age, and the results of the work done will follow more quickly, owing to the tremendous momentum. Moreover, we are nearing the close of the first 5,000 years of this black age, and although it is truly an age of spiritual darkness, yet the quickly-working force is itself impersonal and so can be used for good ends. To us as Theosophists this is a point of extreme importance. It is clearly a time for great effort all along the line, for we who believe that all effort throughout Nature's wide domains proceeds in accordance with this cyclic law, cannot too soon, or too practically, realize how important it is for us to take the fullest advantage of the swing of this cyclic pendulum. We must get on the crest, as it were, of this cyclic wave if we would have our Society carried forward as a strong and effective organization into the coming century, to cleave, like a shining diamond wedge, the material obscurity of this dark age and form a guiding star to awakening souls.
The first essential, I think, of all really good work is an adequate motive. This question of motive is a very difficult and a very subtle one. The ordinary man of the world, the "business man," is quite sure of his motive, if, indeed, he stops to think about it at all. He knows as a rule what he wants and why he wants it, and to a certain extent he is probably perfectly correct — as far as he goes. But he does not go far enough. No one knows, even faintly, what an exceedingly difficult task it is to determine the real motive for even the simplest action of his life, until he has seriously turned his attention to the study of his own inner nature. "Our subtle motives, ever eluding us" are indeed the despair of the man who is trying to know himself, to discover the why and the wherefore of what he may once in his ignorance have thought to be perfectly simple and obvious. The deeper he penetrates the more bewildered does he become. Yet an adequate motive must be found if we would do good work, if we would "live the life." Where, then, shall we seek it?
Turning again to the sublime teachings of the Bhagavad Gita, we find in one place that Krishna tells Arjuna that although action is not necessary to him, yet if he were not constantly in action "all these creatures would perish." As the Higher Self he had the true spiritual vision and so was able to see clearly his responsibility and he was trying to make Arjuna, his lesser self, do the same. Now here is the basis of our motive, clearly indicated — Responsibility. This is indeed the only satisfactory solution of the difficulty we all meet with when we try to attune our souls to the great ideals which Theosophy sets before us, the difficulty of realizing our responsibility and so stepping at once into the appropriate field of action. Once realize, however inadequately, this tremendous and very real responsibility — each man for his fellows — and we cannot fail to find a motive springing up within us which will carry us through well-nigh any difficulty and enable us to undertake any task, however herculean.
The trouble is that we do not realize this great fact of our responsibility. We know intellectually that these ideals rest on the bedrock of Truth, we feel intuitively that they are of the nature of the Supreme Soul, the great Self; but the lower self is faint hearted. It recoils instinctively from what is, to its narrow vision, a path of almost insurmountable difficulty, of barren and forbidding, nay, even of terrifying aspect. But the contemplation of these lofty ideals, the effort made by the soul towards liberation, has roused the spark of divinity within man and ever and anon the still small voice — the "Voice of the Silence" — thrills through his being, at first insensibly and almost unnoticed.
But as the voice gains power the man begins to look around in Nature for confirmation of its teachings and behold! he sees it on every hand and recognizes it as the law of the Manifested Universe. In the lowest and simplest forms of life he sees the instinctual recognition of the law of individual self-sacrifice for the good of the whole. Each tiny atom does its own particular and appointed work, its "duty," and so helps to keep the mass together. Great Nature drives each forward to do this until, in man, self-consciousness attained, each learns to do it of his own free will.
Thus we see that Nature herself teaches us that we are all integral and essential selves of the one great Self and that the very smallest and humblest has his own appointed task, a task no less necessary to the carrying out of the plan of the great Architect than that of the greatest amongst us. I think that this view of life will surely lead a man to that "resignation" which has been called "the first step in becoming." Until we have in some small measure learned this resignation our work, however apparently effective, must be robbed of more than half its value. For so long as we are limited — literally "cribbed, cabined, and confined" — by our personal desires, so long in fact as we care very greatly as to the result of our actions, so long do we hinder the great Self, Krishna, from freely working through us as his vehicle.
This very interest which attaches us to the result of our work acts, in the law, as a constricting, limiting force. If we give it forth to the great law, careless as to results, careful only that we put our whole soul into our work, while we are doing it, then indeed have we the whole mighty force of Nature on our side. We are thus helping her and working on with her and as the law of her nature is Harmony, our puny efforts, our all too feeble work, will go to swell the tide which makes for Unity and Harmony and therefore for the ultimate good of the race, which is ourself. For in the realm of Causes, in the sphere of the mind, where the work is really wrought out, it is the motive which determines the real value of our actions.
Thus the basis of our motive, then, should be our responsibility under the great law and not in our own personal desires. Thus do we identify ourselves with that Spiritual Will which, flying with electric and unimaginable swiftness, touches all hearts in a moment of time.