The Adventure of Thought

‘Head with Flowers’ (part) – Odilon Redon, 1907 – WikiArt

Thoughts are a strange thing. For they seem to be both indelibly ours and strangers passing in our sky. We have an ambivalent relationship to them. Sometimes they are part of us like a lover can be, so intricately woven to our being that they seem to have been sculpted out of our very essence. On other occasions, we see them from afar, unwanted, a despicable thing that we judge unworthy — thieves that have come to set us on a wrong course, rendering us unrecognisable to ourself. We have a love-hate relationship to our thoughts. We love the ones we judge to be good and worship them, befriend them, glorify them, and hate the ones that come to upset us, the bad ones that we refuse to endorse, or have a responsibility for. The ones that we leave scared and alone, ready to multiply and threaten our very being. They are like the obeying soldiers of our wounded self, the dark agents of our fears and of our rancour.

Thoughts end up being prey to our likes and dislikes, treated like objects are, judged as being often disloyal, incompetent, insufficient. We seem to be separated from them, to have little to do with them. But thoughts have been supremely important to us. In a way, they have created us, through our identifying with them. They have formed the limits of our self as a separate entity. In fact, thoughts are thinking us. We are the prey to their conditioned making, and are at the mercy of their limited expression. So we are most of the time reduced to being ourself a thought, a thought thinking itself out, and believing that it is representing nothing less but what we are at the core. Yet we are truly far from the mark. Thoughts have deluded us, have drifted from their being a simple tool to stealing our very identity by faking the appearance of a self separated from its thoughts, when that self is in fact just a magnified, engrossed, elaborated thought that bears no resemblance to what we truly are. Thoughts thrive on confusion, they flourish and fatten on the prosperous soil of ignorance.

But try to go beyond thoughts, to pass them by, to ignore them as being unimportant and move on, deeper, towards the very centre of your self. Notice the sense of being that is here before them, and that hosts them in last analysis. Touch the silence behind thought. Embrace who you are before you associate with things. Go to the place where no identification is possible, where you are free from conceptualisation, where thoughts have become unrelated to yourself, lost entities that have no relationship whatsoever to your truest being. You will begin to disconnect thoughts from yourself, to render them innocuous, and stop looking to them for your security or identity. You will discover a way of living where thoughts are scarce and rarify. You will have no room for thoughts. You will have disencumbered yourself, and will stop being blind to what is. For you will notice that your being extends to all possible things, and all times and places. It is a presence so unified that thoughts are being gradually expelled from your deepest being by losing their unifying justification. They become redundant to your self. They become what they should never have ceased being: a wonderful tool at the service of unity, a practical thing that is but the expression of the one. You will have stripped them of their being an impostor. That’s how you stop being a thought. Because you don’t need one to be yourself.

.

~~~

Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Odilon Redon (1840-1916)

~~~

.

Website:
– Odilon Redon (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

.