The Ardent Disciple

We are strolling down a lane of a thousand gorgeous temples. Only we need to see it, to give ourself the gift of sightseeing. We need to open our life to this reality. But first, we must release this tension present in believing to be a self, and honour this temple of pure being that we are when all our beliefs and identifications have been met and dismantled. Then open your eyes. You are living in a beautiful, never yet visited land. Every fellow human being met, is a temple of consciousness. Every animal encountered, a temple of presence. Every living being that crosses our eyes, our ears, our touch, a temple of awareness, a reflection of our being. We are touring in a world of our self. Never in a distant, exotic land. Always in the comfort of our home as being. Forever linked to and as our deepest presence. We are visitors of presence, being both the presence that visits — as our self, and the presence that is visited — as apparent others.

Down this lane of presence, you will meet countless other temples. Every tree that stands majestic in your gaze, every flower that attracts you with its net of beauty, every fallen leaf on your path, every drop of rain landing on your skin, all temples of your own, scrumptious being. And every object surrounding you, a temple of isness. The clothes you are wearing are existing things. So is the watch at your wrist. Or the chair you are sitting on, or a pen, or a musical sound — the thousand fellow objects of your life. All sharing this same quality of presence, of isness. All temples that reflect the inner beauty or quality of your self, that can be met at every step. See them. Hear them. Touch them. Feel them as your own. Sense their making as your own. Honour them every time you can. They will tell you the story of your self. They are like sculptures of being in the temple of your life.

Don’t forget that every traveller or companion of life, is an altar of friendship, a temple for love. And every object distant or at hand, a recipient for beauty. And every felt presence, an echo of peace, and an occasion for happiness. All are hymns of the divine. All praises to god. But don’t stop here, for there is more to pray, or meditate on; more invitations to honour; more temples to enter; ever more heart openings to experience. Life is a dynamic thing. Bow to everything that shows up. Do not bypass the fact that behind every glance of most human beings you meet, and of many animals too, is also a temple with a cross of suffering. Be sensitive to it. That’s how you will come to exercise your compassion. And notice that within any word uttered by any conscious self, or behind any cry of a distant animal, is a sermon to learn from, by a priest in being. Listen to it carefully. That’s how you will come to exercise your humbleness, or your understanding. And in many actions or behaviours of many of your living friends battling through existence, you will be offered a lesson in equanimity, in courage. Be aware of it. Take it as the expression of your own living self, and an occasion for you to face your unmet challenges. These are the many temples placed at every step of your everyday life. A lane of temples to rest both your broken soul or your radiant being. Enjoy the sight. Be the ardent disciple of it all.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Suggestion:
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Where Eternity Hides

‘Daoist immortal Han Xiangzi’ – Zhang Lu, early 16th century – Wikimedia

I think that our search for the ultimate could find some relief in giving attention to what is small, unnoticed, humble. All the things unremarkable, unassuming, that we pass in life without a glance. You know these moments when we sit down doing nothing. All these things easy, like resting, breathing, eating, sleeping, that can be achieved without our forceful participation. These moments or actions are closer to god than we may think. They live in a grey area where they flirt with the non-objective and slip out of our attention to hide in the sublime, to rest in the blissful, unattached, forgotten. Their presence is made absence, like for the space between two thoughts. But don’t let them leave you. Strive to own them. This is where eternity hides. This is why presence is so much emphasised in spiritual matters; why, in Zen practice, students are encouraged to take pride in habitual, so-called boring or unimportant activities like washing dishes, serving tea, or chopping wood. Forget all your achievements of glory. Put aside your pointed quest for the sublime. Your selfish ride towards the selfless. Go for the minute, the nanoscopic. Take interest in the small and the ordinary. Have a passion for the shallow, like the sacred lotus does.

After all, god has made beauty the most accessible thing there is. And love is so close and intimate that it has been described to be nothing but our very self or being, our natural if forgotten identity. Presence is the most unassuming thing there is, almost as to be nothing. Happiness never comes when invited or provoked, and real beauty has never been seen showing off. But don’t be deceived here. Unassuming doesn’t mean not assuming. And what appears to be nothing can be revealed as the most blatant ‘something’ there is. All spiritual endeavour really boils down to seeing the unseen, and experiencing the non-objective. Your sense of simply being is the most shy presence you will ever encounter in your life, and yet you will find nothing more attractive than its discreet and humble presence. There is glory in simply being, without going for qualities, qualifications, objects, pretence. Silence is louder than noise, and truth more clamorous than any lie can be.

All that religions and spiritual traditions ever do is to proclaim this presence that is already here amongst us, as our very being, and to point towards all that is hiding it from our gaze. Simple-minded by nature, the mind has chosen to ignore it, entrenched as it is in all things objective. It has deemed it insignificant. But the so-called insignificant is simply where the mind cannot go, which is literally everywhere except in objective experience. That leaves for quite a wide field in the unknown, in the hidden, discarded as being too unremarkable to be made a conscious thing. This misjudgment is our mistake. This is our sin. For god is hiding in the small and the insignificant, in everything unremarkable to the mind. But it is not on account of its small size or nature that this presence is unreachable to the mind, but rather that the mind, as the belief in being a separate self, has taken all the place and hides the infinite from our eyes. Just as time, as an idea born of the mind, has taken all the place and veils eternity. This is the extent of the mind’s indulgence. But its conscious retiring or humbling will reveal the sheer glory of all that was left in the hidden. And in doing so will lift the veil on the real nature of our self. God’s being revealed.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Zhang Lu (1464–1538)

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Website:
Zhang Lu (Wikipedia)

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Meditation Time

Okay. Now find a good place for yourself and sit down comfortably. Close your eyes. You are about to engage in your daily meditation. But don’t meditate today. For meditation was never meant to be an activity that a self performs. It never was for the person. Meditation is a space of supreme humility in which you notice your own redundancy as a self. It is the natural and unequivocal place of being in which no meditator is necessary, or even wanted. Your presence as a self will prevent it. It will sabotage your meditation. And this beautiful, selfless presence that you are will retreat in the background, unable to truly flower, crushed by the pretence contained in your wilful act of meditating. There is nothing to attain in this moment. Nothing to achieve. So forget about being a meditator.

Don’t meditate today. Why should you? Let your own presence reveal itself to you. Let it gently notice itself, rather than you striving to notice it. You are already a master of presence, so why should you be meditating? Be contented with only being as you are. That will suffice. See that the meditator in you has now shrunk to the size of a little voice erring purposelessly in the infinite space of your presence. Feel that you are but a dead, brittle leaf falling to the ground of your true being, pushed by the winds of understanding, attracted by the inescapable laws of truth. Notice that your meditation has no need for a meditator. See that your natural self as being doesn’t even comprehend the necessity of meditation. To meditate literally means to ‘contemplate’, ‘measure’, ‘assess’ [what is already here]. This is the ultimate meaning hidden behind that word.

So don’t meditate today. Why should you? Who told you so? Be the one that is beyond the possibility of meditation. Be seated in your unreserved, natural self, where you are already bathing under the sun of your own being. And should you feel an emotion, be reminded that it is but a brisk shower of rain falling in the wide expanse of your nature. And should you feel the limits of your body and sense perceptions, be reminded that they are but a wild and beautiful land appearing in your infinite self, that awaits your ploughing, and seeks your nurturing. Meditation is that space of being which you are of all eternity. It will never leave you, nor can it do so. This ultimate, eternal being is the warm bath of your self, already achieved, and in no need to be practiced. And the meditator has been irrevocably absorbed in it, diluted in this small death.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Suggestion:
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The Little Bud

Could there be a bigger relief than to realise, after a life of struggle and constant pursuit of fulfilment, that everything in our experience is already perfectly still and at rest, and already fulfilled? That we have it all as our birthright? That there is no need to run after ourself, to make everything up, to win our peace through our many efforts and achievements? That there is no need to believe and hope, to project and attain. No need to make life into a war, everlastingly caught between desperation and elusiveness, between all our ‘not quite’, ‘not yet’, and other ‘almost’ or ‘not really’. We put everything at a distance, therefore making happiness into an object, and pursuing it as something to attain or achieve; something dependent on how smart we are, or hard-working, or focused, or lucky, or god knows what. This is to make peace and happiness into something puerile and vulgar, some kind of expensive item to be bought in the marketplace.

Should we not get it right once and for all? Should we not have a definite and thorough look at ourself, and have it all crystal clear? There is no self, inside this body and mind of ours, that is placed at a distance from the objects of experience, and that can use them for its own fulfilment. To believe that there is such a self is what makes life into a battlefield, what renders us small and lacking, suffering our way through existence. We have invented this self. We have fabricated it with all the leftovers of the thousand things and events of experience. We have made ourself into an inextricable bundle which we can never fully know and get hold of. For the simple reason that it is not there. And yet, unfortunately so, this apparent self is our veil. This invented self is our loss. It is what makes us blind to the real life, transforming peace and happiness into objects that this self must attain and never can. How could it in a million years? This self has no reality!

The problem is: we have fabricated, given flesh to something — a self — that is inexistant, and by doing so have made our true and only self and reality into something that appears to be absent, fleeting, elusive. This fabricated self veils a presence that is immediate and intimate. A presence that doesn’t need to be projected. A self that doesn’t need to be arranged or perfected. This self is in fact that thing which we are taking to be just an instrument or function — a consciousness for our invented self — when it is in fact that very perfected self which we are desperately trying to attain. Our fascination for the world of objects has transformed a magnificent and fully grown flower into a little, hidden bud that we have seen and ignored a thousand times. This fully grown self is already what we are unknowingly, and its hidden presence grants like an intuition or memory to the illusory ’me’ which we are desperately trying to perfect. This self owns also, entwined in and as its very nature, the peace and happiness which we are looking for, already achieved and at hand, therefore never lacking, and never in need to be pursued.

Another thing is: there is singleness in our experience. Don’t look at the many, but contemplate the one as being their unique reality. See this reality as pervading everything to the point of being the very fabric of experience. See this reality as being your dearest self. And see this self as being the self or essence of all seemingly other apparent selves and things. This is how we vanquish conflict and suffering. This is how we annihilate struggle and effort. This is how separation is seen through. This is how we make our world a world of peace and harmony, whatever the forms the present dance may temporarily acquire. For you have seen yourself and the world as they are: pure, unbreakable peace. This is why some have called this presence God, on account of its grand, pervasive, loving, and all-encompassing nature or quality, and because it is forever here, forever now, therefore infinite and eternal. Our self and world have been discovered to be god’s being. The little, lost, suffering bud has been discovered to be flower. Its beauty and power therefore self-explanatory.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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The Glory of ‘I Am’

Stained glass by Adeline Hébert-Stevens in Church of Passy, France

First, you have to dig. You have to dig beneath every thing that qualifies you. You have to find that pure ‘I am’ hidden under all that this ‘I am’ is or can be. You have to find the raw substance of that which you are referring to when you say simply ‘I am’. What is this pure, unqualified ‘I am’? Over the years, piles over piles of experiences, beliefs, conditioning, have acquired substance and have overwhelmed this simple experience of ‘I am’. This substance has mutated into an apparent self, and ‘I am’ has been buried under it, and made into a collection of ‘I am this’, ‘and this’, ‘and this’, ‘and also this’. So that we can never ever truthfully feel ‘I am’ anymore. It is gone. ‘I am’ is gone with the wind of endless qualifications.

So we have now to resurrect that ‘I am’. To un-qualify it. To strip it bare of its qualities, of its acquired competences and idiosyncrasies. We have to purify the wine of our self, distil it to its essence. An essence that was never lost but only diluted, made secondary and unimportant, when it is in fact the only thing there is. This essence is simply the realisation of an emptiness that is the core of our being, that we never had the guts to look at, or enquire into, but which a simple question and a good-will to find out, could simply reveal with a dumbfounding ease and precision.

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A celebration of the purity of being, before it becomes qualified… (READ MORE…)

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Masters of Knowing

‘At the discretion of River’ – Shitao, 1656-1707 – WikiArt

It seems to me that, at some point, we have to cease worrying about our lives. There will always be something to worry about, to be concerned with, to hope, regret, project, expect, envy. This is an endless, futile road with no visible finish line. And it also seems to me that, at some point, we have to question our constant spiritual reading, listening, this position of being forever a stranger, one who needs to know, to gain his or her position as being. Not that there is no beauty in reading an expression of truth from a talented seer, or listening to a perfect line of reasoning that brings you to the open field of your eternal self. Not that there is no necessity of seeing oneself as a humble beginner in matters of truth. Not at all. But we must come to the simple realisation that we have it all exposed in front of us, in our everyday, every moment experience of being. We are innate specialists of being.

Any sincere and thorough looking at our simple sense of being, any visit to the temple of our presence, always at hand, always on the map of the now, always accessible, contains in itself treasures of learning and understanding. This is our place of abiding — this being. Our cherished home. Never at a distance. Not a painstaking enterprise. Not requiring the perfect set-up or circumstances, the right number of retreats, the sufficient amount of reading, or the many hours spent on the cushion — for being is always present, always on display, in no need of practice or effort whatsoever. Being has the naturalness of something that can never leave us. It is closer than our blood and breath. So we have to abide by its rules, and notice it rather than seek to attain it.

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Continue reading this praise to being’s intrinsic, evident nature… (READ MORE…)

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A Tangible Now

‘News’ – Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis, 1905 – WikiArt

Everything that we truly have is now. In the unplanned. In the unprojected. Only we have to be very still to see it, to comprehend that truth. Not busy. To be busy is to plan, project, think, believe, fear, suffer. All these can never experience the now. For the sufferer and the believer have left the still, untouched, virgin presence of the now to venture into the past or the future. And in doing so, have somewhat died. They have stopped being. The reason for this is that being can only thrive in and as itself. That’s what makes it eternal, infinite, unformed, whole. To move from it, to have the slightest impulse away from it, is to trade being for becoming, eternity for time, infinity for limitation, and wholeness for separation. This is what makes the now into an unknown, unlived passage between two ideas: ‘that which was’, and ‘that which will be’. Both being some phantoms that we have invented to make one single thought about ourself viable. A thought that has separated itself from the true reality of being. A thought whose only purpose is to bridge ‘that which was’ to ‘that which will be’, and whose fate is to forever seek in the future its lost happiness. We are enclosed in our own fake self and reality. And the now has been lost, replaced by time and becoming. And the peace of being has been buried, replaced by a self that thinks itself separate and lacking, therefore suffering.

So this is the new world we have invented for ourself. This is the new situation. We are now looking to possess, attain, and reach. The now has been made into something negligible, not worth anything, a mere ‘obligatory passage’. We have killed the wide expanse of the now, and have jumped into a train of thoughts. We have deserted vastness and freedom for the prison of a mind. We have made ourselves merchants, mere traders of objects with an idea in view. Our feelings, our body, our sense perceptions, have come to define us. We have come to believe that we are what we are not. And we have, in consequence, become blind to what we truly are. We live in a fantasised world, forever running and rushing between beliefs and concepts, filling the space of being until it has become indiscernible, crowding the now with the whole paraphernalia of time. This is how the now is trampled. This is how its noblesse is sullied over and over again. For the loss of the now is our loss. It is therefore important, and some vital enterprise, to return to the now its forgotten grandeur, and to restitute its position at the very centre of our lives.

The now is not a fleeting moment in time, but the solid presence of the eternal. It cannot be known as an object — which would make it finite, situated, graspable — but as the very being of the very nature of ourself. The now is made of our presence. We are filled with it. The now is foundational. It is the unseen ground and walls of our being. The now isn’t one of the innumerable bricks of time. But time is refracted in the now as one of its many possibilities. The now is the space in which the whole of life unfolds its many mysteries. And its presence cannot be dissociated from that which we are in essence. We can try as we may, we will never be ‘not now’. Our being is forever stretched in and as the eternal and unlimited field of the now, curling up its true body in and as the own, ungraspable body of the now. We will never experience the now as ticking in our life at regular intervals. For it is the very life that we are made of and that refracts itself as a thousand experiences. It is hosting ourself, lending its structure to the very structure of our being. It can be felt as the tangible aspect of the intangibility of time. It is the only thing we have. It is had in us before even the concept of time appears, let alone the past and the future; let alone the body and the world; let alone thoughts, feelings, and the sense perceptions that give our many experiences their contours and qualities. Time is the now having limited itself to accommodate the limitations of thought. And space is the now having limited itself to accommodate the limitations of the world as sense perceptions. Behind all that is fleeting and overwhelming in the flow of experience, ‘now’ is the only solid, peaceful, tangible ground we have.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis (1875-1911)

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Website:
Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis (Wikipedia)

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Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

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