A Cathedral of Grace

Posted on by Alain Joly

We always want to be at a distance from experience. In fact, we keep behind, we don’t get involved — at least not entirely. We are aloof. We keep experience at bay. That allows for a certain safety, we think. But that distance is the distance we keep from ourself. This is the chasm we have opened, through which we have numbed ourself. So we had to fill this chasm with a belief in separation, with the idea of a being separate from other beings and things. In this chasm is born our loneliness, and the vast field of our search for happiness. This search is but our desperate attempt to fill the gap we have created and nourished. And this chasm is how we have been made to think ceaselessly about ourself. How we have been made to judge, hope, project, regret, complain, expect, believe. These are — we think — the measure of our control in life. But they are in fact the loss of our innocence. For this chasm or distance is what our suffering is made of. It is the way we have found to not be wholly being — being appearing to be a dangerous flame, of a consuming nature. So we have stepped safely aside. In this keeping away from the flame, in this refusal to die, is our chasm, our whole precipice of pain.

But this flame of being is in fact our fountain of peace. It is what makes us present, uncompromisingly one with experience, with nowhere to go but ourself, and nothing to be but that which we already are. In this place of being, we are not allowed distance, and time is proscribed. There is nowhere to go in being. Nothing to be but being. This flame of being will cancel the distance that was your safety. It will devour you, digest all your hopes and projections, burn your regrets, crush your fear, and debunk all idea of separation. You are thus crashing in being, and are consumed in its flame. Experience is now revealed to be nothing but the experiencing of your self within your self. You are given no room for separation, and are discovering yourself to be the sublime core of all that can possibly exist. You may look all you want, you won’t find yourself anywhere, for the simple reason that there is no location for you to be in. And you will find no space for a self to have experience, for the experiencer has dissolved in experiencing. This merging of your self with experience is how suffering is made impossible. This is how you are made present here and now, one with everything and everyone. And this is how you are made to feel in awe with what you see, hear, and touch. You are ravished to just be, and are suddenly placed at the teeming heart of your self, unable to not fully, gorgeously be. You are entering a cathedral of grace, and are placed in a well of light, amongst songs of glory.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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On Passing Away

Posted on by Alain Joly

We think that most of our life is taking place in the field of body, thoughts, feelings, and sense perceptions — all of these making a self and a world, and the myriads of experiences that come as a result. This is what our life seems to be for the most part. But look again. Because in fact, no. It is not like this. That’s where the misunderstanding lies. Most of our human experience — not to say the whole of it — is spent in being. In emptiness. In vastness. Of course there is a body here that can be sensed. And feelings can be felt. And objects perceived. And thoughts are occurring all the time. And with them a sense of a separate self has been born. And all this joyous team seems to have acquired reality, and has in consequence been cursed with a measure of drama and suffering. But much was missed along the way. For in fact, none of these really took the place we imagined. None of it is taking any place, any space, or occupying any length of time. For the whole space of experience is already occupied by our sense of being. Life in its totality is made of one indivisible reality that fills our experience to the brim. This reality as being precedes experience — experience being nothing but being manifesting itself within itself.

So this is an announcement for the deceased self that we have been engrossed in all this time. Body, thoughts, feelings, senses, will continue their existence, but will lose their identity as a self. Custody will be returned to whom it always and forever belonged: pure, unlimited being. In its quality of the only inheritor of the feeling of being, ‘I’ or consciousness is now made the one true identity for all selves, and the only essence or ‘is-ness’ for all objects of experience. For we are in fact eternity, which our presence as a time-bound self has veiled. We are in truth the infinity of being, which our insistance in being a separate being has limited. And we are in reality peace itself, which our relentless seeking for happiness has sent in the hidden. There never was a self, and there never was a world. Not in the way we have imagined it. Not with the reality we have conferred to them. Being has drowned them long ago; and has given them the only reality to which they are entitled to belong. That’s how anyone, and anything, and any experience can be made to rest in peace: In giving in to being. In passing away.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Isn’t Life a Simple Thing?

Posted on by Alain Joly

We as an apparent body and mind are nothing but the conditions met for the apparition of a world and all the resulting experiences that take place within it. We are simply housing the thoughts, feelings, and sense perceptions necessary to enact experience, and give it a shine of reality. But the essential of what we are is neither in thoughts, nor in feelings, nor in sense perceptions. The essential of a mind is made of consciousness. Awareness is its structure and its backbone, without which there would be nothing left. If it wasn’t for its awaring quality, our mind would be no mind. Our thoughts would crumble and disappear to never reappear. Our feelings and sensations would suddenly blacken and decay in an instant, to be never formed again. And the world would be swallowed back into infinity, if it wasn’t for the consciousness that gave it its essence and knowability. Look as you may, you won’t find a mind of your own anywhere. At best, just a few scattered thoughts, and the momentary and illusory appearance of a self.

Observe carefully. A few thoughts can never make a mind; and neither could some random feelings. You couldn’t own the necessary self that you need to function in a world, without some inseparable and indispensable measure of knowing. So it is all about knowing. It is all about being conscious. Awareness holds it all together — your body; your thoughts and feelings; your world as sense perceptions. All of these come into existence at the only condition that an ‘awareness’ is present. If awareness goes, you go. If consciousness goes, everything with you go. The world goes. No bodies viable. No flower fields. No Milky Way. Everything falling apart. Universe shut black. Just a mess! That’s the power of consciousness! Far from being a mere function of the body, awareness is what holds the body and the world together. It is the essence of everything. It is the indispensable matrix. It is the ocean in which the waves and currents of thoughts, sensations, and world are dancing. And it has no home where to rest but itself. In fact, it is itself a resting place for all apparent minds, bodies, things, selves that make up a world. Consciousness gives existence with its being, allows relationship with its knowing faculty, and brings the consolidation of happiness with its loving nature. Then it returns into itself and stays there, in utter peace and completeness — replete with itself. And when you have seen it all as it is, and yourself as you are — indivisible being — then might come simply a swell of awe. God, isn’t life a simple thing?

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Tainted Self

Posted on by Alain Joly

Sometime, presence is eluding you. It hides, and you are left with nothing but your old tainted self. These are the sad days. When thoughts have invaded your being and replaced it with ideas and concepts about your self. When feelings have plagued that gorgeous presence which is you, and have contaminated it with worries and rage. When you are caught and find yourself being something and someone, some kind of hard entity that you cannot forget and shake off yourself. That’s when your beautiful, empty being is tiptoeing where it never left and waiting for better days. That’s when you cannot help yourself seeing a world in front of you. That’s when objects have filled your world and animate it with all the inbuilt suffering they imply. Oneness has been choked by them, and has retreated. It won’t fight its way back. It won’t raise a finger for itself. After all, does the sun need to fight for its own light? Is the sun the least bothered when a layer of clouds has formed? No. The sun will continue doing what a sun does. It will illuminate the clouds, sculpting their gorgeous forms, painting them in all shades of whites. The sun illuminates as surely as awareness makes your thoughts and feelings knowable. That’s how you can judge yourself to be anything. An old, tainted, worrisome, raging, hard, stubborn self. That’s how you can know that. Because of your presence. Because of its knowing, illuminating talent. That’s it. That’s what you are. That obvious, inescapable luminosity that is the only thing in presence. The only you in presence. The only presence. And in no time will you then have a clear sky. With no clouds around. No tainted self. And worries blown up. Rage pacified. That’s when the thoughts about yourself are tiptoeing in the empty space where they have come to form themselves. That’s when your feelings are being chased by the wind of knowing, melted by the warm and pure air of being, where you are discovered to be no self. And that’s how you make the thousands objects of your world retreat into oneness. And you are left alone. Here. Now. Sweet and whole. A presence never tainted. Never eluded.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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The Doorway to Emptiness

Posted on by Alain Joly
Church of Saint-Pierre-de-Curtille – France

An inquiry into what we are, and what there is, really boils down to finding out what emptiness is. It boils down to nothing. It boils down to the realisation that we’re not in the picture. We’re nowhere to be found. We are in reality an absence. This is the truth. What truly is is an isn’t. For the simple reason that no-thing owns its own ‘isness’, and no-body owns its own ‘amness’. So this ‘isn’t’ or ‘am not’ gives way to the only thing that can ever be. A reality that is the true and only one reality in presence. Nothing else but this, is. This reality or absence is supreme presence, supreme being. And this absence can only be known by being of it, which means being yourself as empty as this emptiness is. For true being is always about noticing first that ‘I am not’. You can only apprehend the truth of emptiness by being yourself empty of anything that exists in separation. That’s how you can be naked being, by being yourself stripped of anything that can be without nakedness. You have to give yourself away. That’s the only way to truly be. Every form of objective existence is only the product of a belief, of a thought, an image that you have invented to reify yourself. That’s how you become a mere thing separate from other things. And that’s how you become a fearful, suffering, lacking entity or self. By being something. A ‘something’ that can never be enough, never be whole. For ‘something’ is the signature of separation, and is a form of death.

Wholeness, and therefore peace, can only be found in emptiness, no-thingness, non-separate-beingness. In a way, only non-being can you ever truly be. Only the ungraspable can you ever truly grasp. Because you are naturally and fundamentally of it. Your deepest self is made of that empty being. Otherwise you remain a stranger, a thing existing alongside many other things. If you want to know what life is, if you want to be of it, an intrinsic part of it, and feel the aliveness contained within it as your own, you have to become as life itself: undefinable, ungraspable, non-existing, non-objectifiable, empty. That’s the doorway. Life’s secret is to be found in its very substance, its very making as pure, empty being. Everything that come to exist or appear ceases being alive. It separates from life and becomes something doomed to disappearance, and to death. But the essence of your utmost being is found in eternity, in no-thingness. This is ultimate death. A death that is so profound, so effective, that it cannot be found in disappearing, but in truly being. Ultimately, death is the signature of being. That’s where life hides itself — in death. In formlessness. Emptiness. Nothingness. That’s where you will find it. But let yourself be the least little thing, the tiniest appearance, the remotest person, and pure being will remain to you a thing unknown. No thing or person have a reality of their own. Forget that idea. Absence is the only door or access to your true nature, to the knowing of your self. Absence is the very home and address of being. And your absence is your knocking at its door. Then you might find out: the door was never there. It was emptiness, nothingness all along. That’s how a world can be given birth to. On account of this emptiness. And this emptiness is you at your fullest.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Anything at All

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Fenêtre ouverte sur la Seine’ – Pierre Bonnard, 1911 – Wikipedia

Isn’t it humbling to realise that whatever experience you or anybody may have, whatever experience there is anywhere, anyhow, from any thing, at any time, in any dimension of life, will come down to being just this, this pure and impersonal sense of being that is the source and essence of all selves and things. You may live a child’s experience deep in the Amazon forest or a tree standing proudly in the Californian air. You may be a woman or a man in Paris, Kathmandu, or a lost, forgotten village in Greenland. You may live rich and imbued with yourself or excruciatingly poor, sleeping on a pavement somewhere, forgotten from all. You may be an ant living the life of an ant, in a scrumptious colony of fellow ants, or a dignified elephant leading the herd, the matriarch in her world. You may be an expression of utmost violence or anger, or lingering in total peace and appreciation of the world. Or an energetic horse running in the morning dew, or a distant owl hooting quietly before falling asleep. Or maybe a wave crashing in the ocean, or a whale flapping the water, or a little anchovy swimming in the big silver mass of its shoal. Or a soaring eagle, or any wild flower of any wild mountain meadow, or that heavy stone there, resting in a river bed. Or the lamp at your bedside. You may be anything that stands, sits, lies, flies, swims, exists, loves, suffers, ages or dies. You may be the majestic suns and planets of the universe dancing around, following their laws and trajectories. You may be god himself, or the goddess herself. The thousands and thousands expressions of devotion towards the divine, any human being lost in prayer. You may be just a thought. One word ushered at a lover’s ear. Or a gentle wind. Or a wonder. Or a tear. Or a sigh. Or nothing at all. A dream. Empty space. Anything. You may be anything at all. — And this is eternity. And the infinite is at your door. Here. Now. Love expressing itself. Being being ignited. Sameness. God’s presence felt.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947)

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Website:
– Pierre Bonnard (Wikipedia)

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The Perpetual Retreat

Posted on by Alain Joly

I don’t know if you have ever been to a deep, meaningful spiritual retreat. And have found it ending, feeling yourself thrown out, returned into the common world of strife and wilderness, the cacophony of it all, trains, airports, and finally the habitual streets of your life. That moment is when you have to be a little watchful. For nothing has ended really. The peace experienced in your retreating into the heart of your true self is your real deal. And these peaceful days were placed here to remind it to you, to bring back this good old memory to yourself. So don’t crush it right away on the pretence that you are now back to your pseudo life of normality, where it is expected that you will be assailed by visions of separation, and returned to your good old suffering self. Please don’t do that. Know better. No retreat has ever ended except in your own imagination. You are now an attendee placed at day one of another beautiful and challenging retreat that starts afresh, loaded with promises, and ready to invite you in its grip. That grip is the feeling of being in yourself, which you can retreat to at any time, in any place, and anyhow. This is the ticket for entering your perpetual retreat. The longest and cheapest retreat you have ever been invited to. And you are being the glorious participant of it. That lucky one. — And there is more to it. You will be upgraded. You will become your own teacher, the teacher of your never ending retreat, always available, in all circumstances. For your sweet being hasn’t suddenly retreated at the end of the week. It is here. It is now. Continually present. Faithful to all dimensions of life, including the most apparently unconducive ones. He will guide you all along, if you’re willing to listen to her, and receive its presence at the heart of your self. Being is your infatigable teacher. Being is the new place for your retreat. It is the time for its sacred attendance. And it is placed at the perpetual height of your self. Keep going there. Make your life into a perpetual retreat, where you are at once the teacher, the participant, and the staff of that beautiful event that your life is, and in the exquisite venue that the world is.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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