By not believing in life, Gurdjieff meant that the Good Householder does not think the ultimate purpose of existence is to accumulate wealth, fame, sensual pleasure or any of life's other rewards. These things may be enjoyed if they come to us, but they are not the goal of life.
Instead, the Good Householder, who may be of any religion or none, finds the meaning of his or her life in fulfilling duties, or dharma. A Good Householder may be rich or poor, of any profession or trade, and does not necessarily own a house. Usually, a Good Householder has a family, but he or she may live alone. If that is the case, however, they are generally involved with the community in some way, since they want to contribute to the good of the world, not to simply exist.
When I think of a Good Householder, I think of my Uncle George, who died peacefully this weekend at the age of 95.
George Vandenburg was born into a poor Jewish family in London's East End in 1920. According to Jewish tradition, education is highly valued, and George was very well educated despite his parents' poverty. What little money the family had left after feeding, clothing and educating their six children was spent on books, concerts and the theatre.
The family was unable to afford a university education, however, and there were in any case limits to how many Jewish students a university would accept. Then, as now, anti-Semitism was rife. George went to work in a factory when he left school, and was quickly promoted to manager. But World War II saw him called up, like most able-bodied young men, and when the war ended he had to start again at the bottom of the ladder.
The vicissitudes of post-war economics meant that secure jobs were very hard to come by, but George's abilities and managerial skills gained him an excellent reputation and he was always sought after, so that he was unemployed for only a very brief period.
He married, raised three sons, and rose to a high position in his field; but then, once again, misfortune struck and the factory where he worked was forced to close.
Without complaining, George found a new position hundreds of miles away, and he and his family relocated to the North of England, where none of them had ever lived before, and where they knew nobody.
They soon settled in, however, and when his children were accepted into university he took on extra work so that they should not have to start their lives with a huge burden of debt.
So far, this could be the story of many people's lives. What, then, was so remarkable about George?
First of all, what struck everyone about him was his cheerfulness and refusal to give in to self-pity. This is life, and in life bad things happen, and all one can do is to get on with whatever task we are given. Such was his philosophy, learned from his parents, and eventually passed on to his children. It is what Mrs. Pogson calls turning our attention to "the very next thing", and it is the attitude that George had learned and which he embodied.
His philosophy affected me profoundly, for I too was an honorary member of his family when I was very young. George acted as a father towards me for several years, when my own father was in hospital, recovering from tuberculosis. My mother, my younger brother and I went to live with my grandparents and with Uncle George, who was still a young man, still living at home.
I remember his unfailing kindness to everyone, especially towards children and those weaker than himself. He devoted many hours to taking poor children from the East End on picnics and outings, and he was tireless in his efforts to bring hope into their lives.
He was a very even-tempered man, whether by nature or by training, and I never knew him to lose his temper. He did, however, act the part of an angry father when one of the children had actually done something reprehensible, such as lying about their homework, or about their whereabouts. He would explain why they needed to be punished, so that we all knew what we had done wrong, and why it was wrong. And then we accepted our punishments calmly, whether that was the loss of pocket money or the cancellation of a planned outing.
In this way, he modeled the ideal of fatherhood to his own children and his nephews and nieces. And in everything he did he was unfailingly wise, reliable, loving and compassionate.
And George was also fun to be with. He was a well balanced person, although he'd never heard of Balanced Man, playing the clarinet, learning foreign languages even into his 80s, and teaching football and cricket to his sons.
He believed in no particular religion, but thought that the world would be much better run if it were ruled only by kind people - men and women who really cared about others and were not in politics for their own ends.
If he had a fault, it was in being too compassionate and too trusting. If he had been in the Work, he would probably have been asked - as I was - to read and understand the story of King Appolis, in All and Everything. Work students will recall the tale of the very kind king who placed too much trust in his servants, but in my uncle's case his trust was seldom misplaced; the only ill-effect it had was on his own and his family's finances, when he loaned money to a relative who was unable to repay it. The phrase "generous to a fault" could have been coined for Uncle George.
He died as considerately as he had lived, quietly and without fuss, in a nursing home where he'd been admitted after a short illness. Nobody was at his bedside when he passed away, and I believe this was deliberate on his part. Knowing how distraught his wife and children would have been, and wishing to spare them as much pain as possible, he died in solitude, a peaceful expression on his face.
When someone like this dies, the world is the poorer. Although he'd never heard of the Work, he created higher energies throughout his life, and released a great amount of spiritual substances at his death.
A Good Householder is a very valuable person; he or she contributes much to the spiritual evolution of mankind, and although they are unknown and unsung, they are no less valuable - and often much more so - than many of the so-called great and good who occupy the headlines.
In the past, I believe it was easier for people to live as Good Householders than it is today. With today's more chaotic economic circumstances and the destruction of so many traditional values, it's getting harder to affirm the need for a life based on conscience and ethical duty. Global capitalism - or Mammon, as the Bible calls it - opposes evolution and seeks to condemn us all to becoming passive consumers, looking to money and objects to fulfill our deepest desires, which of course they never can.
People like my Uncle George, of blessed memory, remind us that what matters is how we live and who we are, how we treat others, and not what we have.
May Good Householders everywhere flourish, may their lives be cherished and their example copied.
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