Today I wish to speak about the following question: with
what forces are we really working when we work educationally?
Actually, this question cannot be answered in any definite
sense by the culture of today. We can say, of course, that the
outer life within which human beings stand, making it possible
for them to earn a living, requires them to have capacities
that they cannot have yet as children. We must impart such
capacities to them. The behavior proper for adults is also,
perhaps, something that the child cannot acquire by himself; it
must be imparted to him through education. But the answer
to the question — why do we actually educate?
— remains something rather superficial in modern culture,
because the adult today does not really see anything of great
value in what he became through the teaching and education he
received. He does not look back with any particularly deep
gratitude to what he has become through his education. Ask
yourself in your own heart whether this gratitude is always
alive in you. In individual cases, of course, it may be present
on reflection, but on the whole we do not think with deep
gratitude about our own education, because the human soul
[Gemüt] does not have a full
realization of what education actually means, nor which forces
in human nature are quickened by it. That is why it is so
difficult nowadays to arouse in people enthusiasm for
education. All our methods, all our ingenious, formed, outer
methods of education, are of little value in this respect.
Answers to the question —how can this or that be
achieved? — are of little use. What is of the greatest
importance, however, is for a person to have enthusiasm in his
work and to be able to develop this enthusiasm to the full if
he is to be a true teacher. This enthusiasm is infectious, and
it alone can work miracles in education. The child eagerly
responds to enthusiasm, and, when there is no response on his
part, it usually indicates a lack of this enthusiasm in the
teacher.
As
a kind of obvious secret, let me say that although a great deal
has been said about enthusiasm here, when I go through the
classes in the school I see a kind of depression, a kind of
heaviness in the teachers. The lessons are really conducted
with a certain heaviness. This heaviness must be
eliminated. Actually, it may also express itself in artificial
enthusiasm. Artificial enthusiasm can achieve nothing at all.
The only enthusiasm capable of achieving anything is that
kindled by our own living interest in the subjects with which
we must deal in the classroom. Now, it is essential for you to
realize that as teachers we need to develop a consciousness of
our own. It is necessary for us to work at cultivating this
consciousness. This work to develop our own consciousness is
certainly made infinitely more difficult by the fact that in
the higher grades we must take into account the impossible
demands made upon our children from outside in preparation for
graduation. This lies like a leaden burden upon the teaching in
the higher grades. Nevertheless, it is essential not to
lose sight of our own goal, and therefore we must work to
develop this consciousness, the Waldorf teacher's
consciousness, if I may so express it. This is only possible,
however, when in the field of education we come to an actual
experience of the spiritual. Such an experience of the
spiritual is difficult to attain for modern humanity, and this
fact must be faced and understood. We must realize that we
really need something quite specific, something that is
hardly present anywhere else in the world, if we are to be
capable of mastering the task of the Waldorf school. In all
humility, without any trace of pride or arrogance, we
must become conscious of this, but conscious of it inwardly,
deep in our hearts, not merely by talking about it; within our
hearts we must be able to become conscious of it. This is
possible, however, only if we have a clear understanding of
what humanity has lost in this respect, has lost just in
the last three or four centuries. It is this that we must find
again.
What has been lost is the realization that when the human being
enters the world out of his pre-earthly existence he is,
compared with the actual forces of the being of man, a being
who needs to be healed. This bond of education with the healing
of man has been lost from sight. During a certain period of the
Middle Ages, certainly, it was believed that the human being,
as man on earth, was ill and that his health had to be
restored; that the human being as he was on the earth actually
stood below his proper level and that something real had
to be done in order to make man truly man. This is often
understood merely in a formal sense. It is said that the human
being must evolve, must be brought to a higher level, but this
is meant abstractly, not concretely. It will be interpreted
concretely only when the activity of education is
actually brought into connection with the activity of healing.
In healing a sick person, one knows that something has actually
been achieved: if the sick person has been made healthy, he has
been raised to a higher level, to the level of the normal human
being. In ancient times, those who knew the world mysteries
regarded birth as synonymous with an illness, because, in fact,
when the human being is born he falls in a certain sense below
his proper level and is not the being he was in pre-earthly
existence. In comparison with the higher human nature, it
is really something abnormal for the human being to bear within
him constituents of his body, to have to bear a certain
heaviness. It would not be considered particularly intelligent
today to say that, in comparison with the higher nature of man,
it is of the nature of illness to have to struggle continually
until death with the physical forces of the body. Without
such radical conceptions, however, we cannot approach the
reality of what education means. Education must have something
of the process of healing. In order to make this clear, let me
offer the following.
The
human being really lives within four complexes of forces.
In one he is active when he walks, moves his legs with a
pendulum swing, or when he uses his legs in order to dance or
make other movements. This movement, taking place in the
outer, physical world of space, can also be pictured as
bringing about changes of location in space. Similarly,
other possibilities of human movement, of the arms, hands,
head, eye muscles, and so forth, can be designated as changes
in location of an ordinary inanimate body, that is to say, if
we leave out of account the inner activity of the human being.
This is one complex of forces within which the human being
lives and is active.
The
second is unfolded when man begins to work upon the physical
substances that he absorbs into himself; in the widest
sense this includes everything that belongs to the activity of
nourishment. Whereas the limbs of man are the mediators of what
man has in common with beings that change their physical
location, there is another activity that man needs in
order to continue the activity connected with the outer
substances that man absorbs as nourishment. If you put a
piece of sugar into your mouth, it dissolves. This is a
continuation of what sugar is in the outer world. Sugar is hard
and white. You dissolve it, and it becomes liquid, viscous, and
then undergoes further changes. The chemist speaks of chemical
changes, but that is not relevant here. The sugar continually
changes. It is worked upon and absorbed into the whole
organism. There you have a second kind of activity. This
continues right into the rhythmic system, and then the
rhythmic system takes over the activity of the digestive
system. What happens in this second kind of activity of man,
however, is very different from the human activity of
moving the limbs or of moving the whole human body in the outer
world. The activity of nourishment is quite different
from the activity exercised when we move outwardly or, let us
say, lift a weight. This activity of nourishment cannot proceed
at all without the intervention, at every point of this
activity, of the astral nature of the human being. The astral
nature of the human being must permeate each individual
part of this activity, of nourishment. In the activity
that I have described as the activity of walking, grasping, and
so on, we are dealing essentially with the same forces man
makes use of that we can also verify physically. What really
happens in these movements is that the etheric organism is set
in motion and through its mediation arises a leverage movement
that we can see in an act of grasping or walking. If we focus
on the activity of walking or grasping, we need only consider
that which we have in the physical world as it is
inserted within the working of the etheric; then we have
what happens in man. We never have this, however, if we
consider the activity of nourishment. This can arise only if
the astral body takes hold of processes that otherwise we have
in the test tube. There astral forces above all must be at
work, and a fact that is considered nary at all is that in this
process physical forces no longer play a part. This is
exceedingly interesting, because it is generally believed that
in nourishment, for example, physical forces are at work. As
soon as the human being no longer exists in relation to the
outer world, the physical forces cease to have their
raison d'etre; they are no longer active, no
longer have any effect. In the activity of nourishment,
the physical substances are worked upon by the astral and
etheric. The physical effect of a piece of sulfur or salt
outside the body has no significance within the body. Only the
astral nature of a substance is seized hold of by the
astral, and then the etheric-astral is the really active factor
in nourishment.
Going further, we come to the activities taking place in the
rhythmic nature of man, in the blood rhythm, in the breathing
rhythm. In their inner constitution these activities are
similar to the forces at work in the system of nourishment.
They are the result of cooperation between the etheric and the
astral, but in the activity of digestion the astral is in a
certain respect weaker than the etheric, and in the rhythmic
activity the astral becomes stronger than the etheric. In the
rhythmic system the etheric withdraws more into the background
(though actually only the etheric that is within
the human being). The etheric outside the human
being begins to take part again in the activity that is
exercised in the rhythmic system of man, so that actually with
the activity of breathing one has the force of man's inner
etheric body, the force of the outer ether of the world, and
the astral activity of man.
Now, picture to yourselves what is really going on when the
human being breathes. The physical activity of carbon, oxygen,
etc., is completely suppressed, but the combined working of the
etheric outside, the etheric within, and the astral is a most
important factor. This plays a great part. These are the
forces, however, that we must know in any substance if we wish
to speak of the healing effect of that substance. We cannot
discover the extent to which a substance is a remedy if we do
not know how that substance, when introduced into the body, is
laid hold of by these three systems of forces. The whole of
therapy depends upon knowledge of these three forces in
connection with the substances used. Knowledge of the healing
influence in the outer and inner etheric and in the astral is
what constitutes therapy in the real sense. What does it mean
when antimony, for example, is used as a remedy? It
simply means that some form of antimony is introduced
into the body; it is laid hold of in a certain way by the inner
etheric forces, by the outer etheric forces that enter by way
of the breathing, and by the astral forces in the human being.
We realize the extent to which antimony is a remedy when we
understand the effect of these three systems of forces on a
substance within the human organism. [Rudolf Steiner and
Ita Wegman, Fundamentals of Therapy, London,
Rudolf Steiner Press, 1967.]
In
ascending to the rhythmic activity, therefore, we come to
recognize a much more delicate process than exists, for
example, in the activity of nourishment. It is essentially this
rhythmic activity that must be considered if we wish to
recognize the healing effects. Unless we know how a particular
substance affects the rhythm of breathing or the blood
circulation, we cannot understand the nature of this
substance as a remedy.
Now
the strange thing is this. Whereas the doctor brings into
operation the therapeutic forces in the unconscious, in the
rhythmic system of the blood circulation or the
breathing, as teachers we must bring the next higher stage into
operation: that which is connected with the activity in
the nerves, in the senses. This is the next metamorphosis of
the remedy. What we do as teachers, is really to work in such a
way on the physical human being that the substances that are
taken up are subjected to the etheric activity and to the outer
physical activity — namely, to perception, whenever
something is perceived — and to the inner physical
activity, that is to say, to the inner changes of location
brought about mechanically through the human being moving
himself. Whereas in the remedy are contained the outer and
inner etheric and the astral, in education are contained outer
physical forces (as in gymnastics) and inner physical forces.
When the human being bows his head, a change takes place in his
entire dynamic system; the center of gravity shifts a little,
and so forth. In the workings of light upon the eye we have
recognized outer physical forces in their greatest delicacy and
refinement. Moreover, outer physical forces are operating when
pressure is made on an organ of touch. We therefore have
etheric activity, outer physical
forces, and inner physical forces, that is to
say, physical changes in the nervous system, destruction in the
nervous system. These are true physical processes that are
actually present only in the nervous system of the human being.
It is with these three systems that we are essentially dealing
as a teacher with the child. This is the higher metamorphosis
of what is done in healing.
What kinds of activity are present in the human being?
There are the movements of walking, grasping, the movement of
the limbs, outer changes of location, the activity in the
process of nourishment, the rhythmic activity —
which is through and through a healing activity — and the
perceiving activity if we regard it from outside. Regarded from
within, educational activity is entirely a perceiving
activity.
This will now give you deeper insight into the nature of man.
You will be able to say to yourselves that, since factors are
active in the rhythmic system that are healing factors, there
is a doctor [Arzt]
continually present in the human being. In fact, the
whole rhythmic system is a doctor. The function of a doctor is
to heal something, however, and if healing is needed there must
be illness. If that is so, walking, grasping, digesting must be
continual processes of illness, and breathing and blood
circulation a continual healing. This is indeed the case. In
modern science, however, where discrimination is lacking, it is
not realized that the human being is continually becoming ill.
Eating and drinking, especially, are processes that continually
create illness. We cannot avoid continually injuring our health
through eating and drinking. Eating and drinking to excess
merely injure us more seriously, but we are always injuring
ourselves to a slight degree. The rhythmic system, however, is
continually healing this illness. Human life on the earth is a
continual process of becoming ill and a continual healing. This
process of becoming ill brings about a genuinely physical
illness. What the human being does in intercourse with the
outer world, the consequences of walking, grasping, and the
like, is a more intense but less noticeable process of
becoming ill. We must counter it through a higher process of
healing, through a process of education, which is a
metamorphosis of the healing process.
The
forces inherent in education are metamorphoses of
therapeutic forces: they are therapeutic forces transformed.
The goal of all our educational thinking must be to transform
this thinking so as to rise fruitfully from the level of
physical thinking to spiritual thinking. In physical thinking
we have two categories which, in our academic age, give rise to
a barren enthusiasm that has such a terrible influence. We have
only two concepts: right-wrong, true-false. To discover whether
something is “true” or “false” is the
highest ideal of those whose entire lives are given up to the
world of academia. In the concepts “true” and
“false,” however, there is so little reality. They
are something formal, established by mere logic, which actually
does nothing but combine and separate. The concepts of
“true” and “false” are dreadfully
barren, prosaic, and formal. The moment we rise to the truths
of the spiritual world we can no longer speak of
“true” and “false,” for in the
spiritual world that would be as nonsensical as saying that to
drink such and such a quantity of wine every day is
“false.” The expression “false” here is
out of place. One says something real regarding this only
by saying that such a thing gives rise to illness. Correct or
incorrect are outer, formal concepts, even regarding the
physical. Pertaining to the spiritual world, the concepts of
“true” and “false” should be discarded
altogether. As soon as we reach the spiritual world we must
substitute “healthy” and “ill” for
“true” and “false.” If someone
said about a lecture such as the one I gave here yesterday
evening, that is “right,” it would mean nothing at
all. In the physical world things can be “right”;
in the spiritual world nothing is “wrong” or
“right.” There, things are reality. After all, is a
hunchback “true” or “false”? In such a
case we cannot speak of right or wrong. A drawing may be
false or correct, but not a plant; a plant however, can be
healthy or diseased. In the spiritual world things are either
healthy or ill, fruitful or unfruitful. In what one does there
must be reality. If someone considers that a lecture such as I
gave yesterday is healthy or health-bringing, that is to the
point. If he simply considers it “right,” he merely
shows that he cannot rise to the level where reality lies. It
is a question of health or illness when we are dealing
with spiritual truths, and it is precisely this that we must
learn in connection with education. We must learn to regard
things in their educational application as either healthy
or unhealthy, injurious to health. This is of particular
significance if one wishes to engender a true consciousness of
oneself as a teacher. It may be said that engendering this
consciousness begins with passing from the
“true” and “false” of logic, to the
reality of “healthy” or “ill.” Then we
come quite close to understanding the principle of
healing. This can be developed in concrete detail but we must
also let ourselves be stimulated by a comprehensive
knowledge of man, a knowledge of man in relation to the world
around him.
In
describing the breathing process, for example, according to
modern science, no particular weight is laid on the essential
factor, on the actual human factor.
It
is said that the air consists of oxygen and nitrogen, leaving
aside for the moment the other constituents. Man inhales oxygen
along with a certain amount of nitrogen. He then exhales oxygen
combined with carbon, and also nitrogen. The percentages
are measured, and it is then believed that the essentials of
the process have been described. Little account is taken,
however, of the essentially human factor. This begins to dawn
upon us when we consider the following. There is a definite
percentage of nitrogen in the air that is good for breathing,
and also a definite percentage of oxygen. Suppose a man comes
to a region where the air is poor in nitrogen, containing less
than the normal percentage. If the person breathes in
this nitrogen-poor air, this air gradually becomes richer in
nitrogen through his breathing. He exhales from his body
nitrogen that he would not otherwise exhale in order to augment
the nitrogen content of the air in his environment. I do not
know whether any account is taken of this in physiology
today. I have often pointed out that the human being
living in air that is poor in nitrogen corrects this lack; he
prefers to take nitrogen from his own organic substances,
depriving them of it in order to augment the nitrogen content
of the outside air. He does the same with respect to the normal
content of oxygen in the air. The human being is so intimately
related to his environment that the moment the environment is
not as it ought to be, he corrects it, improves upon it. We
thus may say that the human being is constituted in such a way
that he needs nitrogen and oxygen not only for himself; it is
even more necessary for him to have nitrogen and oxygen in
certain percentages in his environment than within his
own organism. The environment of a human being is more
important for this subconscious forces than the make-up of his
own body. The incredibly interesting fact is that through his
instincts the human being has a far greater interest in his
environment than in the make-up of his own body. This is
something that can be proved by experiment, provided the
experiments are arranged intelligently. It is only a
question of arranging experiments in this realm. If our
research institutes would only tackle such problems, what a
vast amount there would be for them to do! The problems are
there and are of tremendous importance. They are terribly
important for education, too, for it is only now that we can
ask why the human being needs an environment containing a
particular amount of nitrogen and a particular amount of
oxygen. We know that in the inner activity of nourishment or
general growth, all kinds of combinations of substances
are formed in the human being, revealing themselves in a
definite way when man becomes a corpse. It is only in
this dead form, however, that these things are investigated by
science today.
Now
the strange thing is that in the sphere of the human being that
encompasses part of the rhythmic activity and part of the
metabolic-limb activity, there: is a tendency for an activity
to unfold between carbon and nitrogen. In the sphere that
extends from the rhythmic upward to the nerve-sense activity,
there is a tendency to unfold an activity between carbon and
oxygen. It is truly interesting, if one observes a
soul-constitution not worn out by dry scholarship, to see
sparkling soda water, where the carbon dioxide appears in
the liquid as the result of the interplay of carbon and
oxygen. If one observes these bubbles one has directly and
imaginatively a view of what goes on in the course of the
rhythmic breathing activity from the lung system toward the
head. The bubbling effervescence in sparkling water is a
picture of what, in a fine and delicate way, plays upward
toward the human head. Looking at a spring of sparkling water,
we can say that this activity of the rising carbon dioxide is
really similar, only in a coarser form, to a continual,
inward activity within the human being that rises from
the lungs to the head. In the head, something must continually
be stimulated by a delicate, intimate sparkling-water activity;
otherwise, the human being becomes stupid or dull. If we
neglect to bring this effervescence of sparkling water to the
head of a human being, then the carbon within him suddenly
shows an inclination for hydrogen instead of oxygen. This rises
up to the brain and produces “marsh gas,” such as
is found in subterranean vaults, and then the human being
becomes dull, drowsy, musty.
To
begin with, these things confront us as inner — one would
like to say — physical activities, but they are not
really physical, for the production of marsh gas or carbon
dioxide becomes in this case an inner spiritual life. We are
not being led into materialism here but into the delicate
weaving of the spiritual in matter.
Now
if, in teaching languages, for example, we make the child learn
too much vocabulary, if we make him memorize through an
unconscious mechanization, this process can lead to the
development of marsh gas in the head. If we bring as many
living pictures as possible to the child, the effect is such
that the breathing system lets the carbon dioxide
effervesce toward the head. We therefore play a part, in fact,
in something that makes either for health or illness.
This shows us how as teachers we must demand a higher
metamorphosis of the forces of healing. To be able to perceive
these hidden relationships in the human organism kindles
enthusiasm in the highest degree. We realize for the first time
that the head is a remarkable vault that can be filled with
either marsh gas or carbon dioxide. We feel we are standing
before the deeper well-springs of existence.
In
the next lecture, we shall study another activity, with which
this activity must be brought into balance. This can happen,
however, only when there is on the one hand the right kind of
teaching in the musical sphere and, on the other, the right
kind of teaching in lessons that are based upon outer
perception [Anschauung] and not
upon the musical sphere. Thus, our teaching takes shape, and
our interest is aroused in the human being before us. To this
something else must be added: the feeling of responsibility.
The consciousness of a Waldorf teacher should be imbued
with the realization that makes him say in all humility: people
are let loose into the educational world today as if the
totally blind were sent out to paint in color. Few know what is
really taking place in education. It is no wonder that a blind
man has no particular enthusiasm for painting in color;
no wonder there is no real enthusiasm for education in the
world! The moment we enter into education in the way described,
however, the whole art of our education will provide the
stimulus for this enthusiasm, and we shall feel that we
are in touch with the well-springs of the world, and find the
true feeling of responsibility. We realize that we can bring
either health or illness. This enthusiasm on the one hand and a
feeling of responsibility on the other: both must arise in
us.
|