The Chamber Within

Posted on by Alain Joly

‘Woman at the piano’ (detail) – Théodule Ribot – Wikimedia

You have your own little chamber at hand, where you can retire. It is called yourself. A place which has no place to be, and is in fact your own being — what you are, where the totality of yourself is, and which gives you the space to live and act. It is a chamber without a door, without an in or an out, but where you can only be in or be out. You are out of your secret, intimate chamber when you have all your focus on the outside, which means on all the things which you are not, but appropriate as if they were an identity to you. That includes your thoughts which you cherish as being your own production, the outspoken part of yourself, but are in reality strangers that pay you a visit. That includes your perceptions which you take to be a window on the reality of the world, but are in reality facets of your own being, where your whole experience has its home and its refuge. That includes your sense of being a self separate from experience, with a thousand attributes, when of a self you have only empty being, and of attributes only the one attribute of being you, which is ‘I Am’ without an attribute.

You are in your own intimate chamber when you are aware of being. It is a chamber without walls, for it expands beyond anything that you have so far known or been aware of as objects. You are in your chamber when you have no other quality than the quality of being, and when you feel the world you live in to be but your own, shared infinite being. You are in when you have a view on the reality of yourself as being, before you have one on the ten thousand non-existent things of experience. You are in when you have not an object as your subject, which means not a body-mind as an identity. This chamber has nothing secret about it, for it is anywhere you can possibly be. It is openly yourself, though you may hide from it in an infinite number of ways. Your making it a chamber is when you are out of it, and need to go within to find it, in your being which you yourself have made a secret of — something hidden. When you are in it, well then you have no chamber to be in, for the chamber has been discovered to be plainly you, the ‘I’ that you truly and only are, which you find to be neither in nor out.

So your chamber is both within and without, both secret and revealed. You are always abiding in it and as it, though your thoughts and perceptions may have convinced you out of it. So the threshold between being in or out of your intimate chamber of being is wherever you happen to be. You are always on the threshold of being either a suffering, separate, invented entity, or the spacious, unmoved expanse of infinite being. You are always on the brink of yourself, which is you either notice that you are already within that inmost chamber of being, or you ignore, disregard, pay no heed to it. The difference between the two is in the width of a thin hair. You are always on the verge of knowing your identity as being, or of staying behind, in your thoughts, dancing with a belief, being what you are not. There is an edge at any place or moment you are in. A precipice of knowing. You either choose to cling to your living in the limitations of time and space, or free fall where only the infinite and eternal is your reality. The difference between the two is as subtle as the coming of dawn. It is the realisation — the making real — that you have been your chamber of being all along.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Théodule Ribot (1823-1891)

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Website:
– Théodule Ribot (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
Other ‘Ways of Being’ from the blog…

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A Study of Mind

Posted on by Alain Joly

‘Landscape with Two Oaks’ – Jan van Goyen, 1641 – WikiArt

Notice that your mind is inapt at staying still. Stillness is not its thing. It has always something to think about. It is always on the road, roaming, judging, comparing, evaluating. Mind you, it is its nature to do so, if you let it. The mind is a restless thing. But its restlessness has a virtue. It pushes you beyond it. It encourages you to go deeper, where stillness is your nature. Where there is quiet. Something abiding. A stability.

Go not to the mind, but to the presence that supports it. Be like the gentle arms that hold it. Notice that your mind is not alone. It needs a space for its functioning. Sink in the mind’s left vacant space. Go in the interstices, between your many thoughts, inside your overwhelming feelings. Attain to the very substance your mind is made of. Be like its gorgeous essence. Not the mind itself, but the depth of being within it.

The mind deals only with the superficies. It is changing its mind at the slightest disturbance. With the latest flip of an opinion. Don’t follow its many thoughts. They will convince you that you are a self separate from experience. They will tell you that you are lonely. They will make you a suffering entity, though there is none. Go to the bottom of your being. Where the mind is only an appearance. See that you don’t disappear. You can’t.

The mind is ever changing, not you. It has an idea in mind. Forever keeping an agenda, being interested in outcomes, seeking experiences — only happy ones. You have happiness enmeshed within your own being, as the nature of your own gorgeous self. You don’t need to manufacture one, to provoke it with circumstances. Go so deep within the mind that you cease to be involved with its productions. This is called peace.

Stay with your imperturbable essence. It will show you that you are married to the world. The mind believes in the many, in division, in separation. But it is its own invention that it passes on to you as the only reality. Reality is where the mind is only a puppet. Reality is when you are one. It is beyond even your sense perceptions. They have colluded with the mind in making you believe in separation. Reality is aware presence. The mind is not.

Now be careful. For the mind has appropriated the ‘I’. It too says ‘I Am’. But the mind is not ‘I’. It is not your real self. The mind is pretending to be you. It does it all the time. So often that you have come to believe a bundle of thoughts and feelings to be ‘I’. But ‘I’ goes deeper. It doesn’t live in such a shallow land. ‘I’ belongs to the ground, to your innermost being, to that part of yourself that is unmovable. Where there is no past or future. No other, beyond, or away.

So if you happen to meet the mind one day, and be entangled in its mesh, or if you have adopted it as your everyday identity, don’t stay there. Move away. Be bold. See that all that comes here with a beginning and an end, with a limitation, has very little to do with you. See that as you deepen in and as being, your mind will slow down, and acquire a strange transparency. Your thoughts and feelings may even appear to be clothed in the infinite.

Your mind now seems to be no mind at all, and is in no capacity to bring separation. It stops being a brigand, and becomes a precious ally. Thoughts may be used wisely, and feelings are seen as a reflection of love and its indispensable joy. Essence acquires a new meaning, as it pervades the world and every experience that comes your way. Your body is experienced as made of Mind, and Mind as your new body. Spirit is where you live. It is without end.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Jan Van Goyen (1596-1656)

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Website:
– Jan Van Goyen (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

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The Resurrection

Posted on by Alain Joly

‘The Resurrection’ – Piero della Francesca, 1460 – WikiArt

There is a sleeping involved in our present living. It doesn’t seem to be so, but experience has become so habitual that it has put us in a sort of slumber, in a lethargy, so that we never feel what we are as we are. We live according to an idea, to a belief, and this idea of ourself is limiting us at every moment. It is hiding our own true, essential being in plain sight. And in this sleeping, in this ignorance of our own nature is contained all our suffering, all our many lacks, and the never ending conflicts that our life seems to harbour day after day.

Yet in our slumber is a reality that is only asking to rise to our noticing and to our knowing. It wants to resurrect. It longs to rise again. To show up after having been forgotten. It was never far — an already formed reality that we only need to remember, to re-form in its original and never diminished splendour. We have forgotten it because we overlooked that our self has been consistently made up over the years. We are the result of a long standing habit or belief. We have formed a belief of ourself, of who we are, unwaveringly, unceasingly, experience after experience, and then have forgotten that we ever did that.

We still believe to be pure, virgin, real, when we have in fact already pre-fabricated ourself, and have been soiled by experience. When the awareness of our being has been mixed, degraded, corrupted by the overwhelming presence of our senses, and by the many prints and traumas they have left in their wake. We have lost the freshness of our being to venture into time and space. We have lost our infinity for believing to be an entity, a person with personal qualities, fragilities and idiosyncrasies.

But notice that you are an already risen reality. That we have been raised eternally above the limitations of our body and mind, and have received the gift of our living in the peace of our spaceless being. We are a fully awake and never ending being, rising above all existing objects, entities, experiences. We are a being unmoved, that gives its indestructible reality for the possibility of time and place, of birth, movement, and death, but being itself unborn, immobile, and immortal.

The resurrection is the moment when we rise again, not as a body after its death, not as a mind after its dissolution, but as the unlimited nature which we are now the sons and daughters of — the undivided being that we are the being of. Our resurrection is the simple noticing of this true nature of ourself, that rises not because it was diminished or laid on the ground, but because it is eternally risen in and as our glorious being, were it not for our looking in the wrong direction, towards the only blind spot where it disappeared for a time from the slumber of our mournful gaze.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Piero della Francesca (1415-1492)

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Websites:
– Piero della Francesca (Wikipedia)
– The Resurrection (Painting) (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

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A Word Almighty

Posted on by Alain Joly

‘The Plains of Heaven’ – John Martin, 1853 – WikiArt

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“While all things were in quiet silence,
and night was in the midst of her course,
Thine almighty Word, O Lord,
leapt down from heaven from thy royal throne.”
~ Book of Wisdom (Ch.18, verses 14-15)

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There is a night in our life, a place dark and covered by our constant and obsessive attachment to experience. We never go there, for it has become as if inexistent, not there, not here. It is hidden, absent, and our fascination for objects, for the surface of things, for everything seen, heard, touched, has pushed it in pitch darkness, unseen, unheard, untouched, inaccessible to sense perceptions, therefore not here. This is our night, for we only care for what is exposed by the blinding light of our senses. Would we go for the night, when we have in constant access the bright day of our many and overwhelming experiences?

Yet the night has secrets to tell. Here, in the silent, invisible, unspoken part of ourself, in the deep recesses of our mind, in the night of our being, is a heavenly world. Only we have in order to see it, to go where objects have become silent, where appearance has not yet done its ruinous work, before the disgraceful influence of the senses. We have to go deeper into ourself, into our own being, into that which has become a night to our own eyes. We have to get accustomed to this darkness, to this absence. We have to let it reveal itself to us. For there is a light here, which the bright day of our many experiences is only a pale reflection. There is a light here, both immense and fragile. Immense because it is the only light in presence. Fragile because we have chosen to live exclusively where the dim glow of the senses are. We have chosen to live in the fragile, in the frail existence of things, turning away from the massive radiance of our own being. We have chosen the light of suffering and uncertainty, and we live there with our own invented certainties.

But in silence, there is a Word. In the night, there is a Radiance. It is brightly here, to be seen, contemplated, admired. It is loudly here to be heard, listened to, savoured. It is where we are — exactly there — right within the light of our many experiences, although rendered dark and mute in reason of our focusing on the objective only. We have become interested only in what is outside ourself, in what can be reached through the senses. We have given importance to mind, body, thought, world, to what can be understood, reached, grappled with, grasped, had. We have left ourself out of the picture. We have left that space of being out. So the Word is inaudible. God shouting, singing psalms after psalms for our own benefit, has no effect. We are deaf and blind to our own self and being, although learned and scholarly to everything objective. We have left behind what mattered in our life, and that forgetting is at the source of all suffering and conflict in the unfortunate realm of experience and existence. We have the royal throne of our own silent being to sit on and occupy. So let us do just that. The rest has its own, natural course — and it’s a happy one.

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Text by Alain Joly

Quote from the Book of Wisdom

Painting by John Martin (1789-1854)

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Websites:
– John Martin (Wikipedia)
– Book of Wisdom (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
Other ‘Ways of Being’ from the blog…

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A Love Affair

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘The Evening Star’ – Camille Corot, 1864 – WikiArt

It is really just a love affair. Nothing else. If you want to know yourself, you have to be interested, to be passionate. You have to love yourself. And if you love yourself, down the line, you will come to love god. Because god and yourself have had a love affair from beyond the frontiers of time. So love is the key.

And don’t tell me that you cannot love yourself. Don’t serve me this. Don’t argue about the shape of your body, or your insufficient mind. Don’t dive into your story, your failures, your many shortcomings. Don’t blame your circumstances. Be with yourself. That’s all. Be here, now, present with that part of yourself that is untouched by your line of multiple experiences.

The past doesn’t play any part in who you truly are. Neither the future which doesn’t exist at all. Not in the least. Start afresh. Be with what is taking place, all the place, in any experience that you may have. Any experience will do. Don’t be choosy. See that this experience is taking place somewhere, inside a reality. It cannot avoid you. You are always with your experience. Without you, your experience is nothing, has no feet to stand on. See how important you are. The beauty that lies in your being present. That’s the beginning of love.

Don’t think that to love, you have to find the perfect situation, the handsome circumstances. Love is easy to find. It is at every corner of your life, under every stone, every thought, behind even the most tedious moment. In watching yourself passionately, you will come to be drawn to that most charming part of your identity. To that which will never let you down, whatever the conditions you are in. To that which you can only admire, for it withstands every tempest. To that which holds the world in its infinite arms. You will come to love yourself for you will find out that you are a most gorgeous being, which is not the prey of age, limitation, lack, hope, envy, desire for being more, better, different. You will fall for yourself, for everyone, for everything.

Be passionate about who you are — whatever you are. Start wherever you are. Be important. You are significant. You bear weight or consequence, more than you think. You have in yourself the ultimate secret of life. You are interesting, which literally means you ‘are between’, in the middle part, a doorway, halfway between being something, someone, and being the infinite. You hold the key to your own enigma. You stand in the right place. So love yourself. If you do, love will find you. You will find that right here, within your own being, contained in your saying ‘I Am’, is your beloved, the one you were secretly longing for.

Seduce yourself from within. Don’t be sidetracked by your experiences, qualities, thoughts, everything that is the prey of your likes and dislikes. To love is always only about being with the other’s being. So be with yourself. Admire your own home, where you live. Be drawn to your own being. Watch yourself with wonder, like you do for the stars. Be considerate. Stand by yourself. It is all it takes.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Camille Corot (1796-1875)

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Website:
– Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

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A Virtue of Old

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Portrait of an old man’ – Paul Cézanne, 1868 – WikiArt

Od age and ailments have an astonishing virtue. They teach us that our body and our mind have a weak reality, that they soften, do not last, crumble. They are like everything else. Their reality is passing, illusory, and ours is not what we have taken it to be. For we notice that as our body weakens, falls apart, we do not with it. We stay as strong as ever. We shine as something else. Not a body. Not a mind. Not an apparent self. But spirit. Our spirit strengthens. Our presence widens — if we care to look at all, to be aware, to not attach ourself to a dying object, to a withering skill. If we stay as our solid being, as that which we haven’t been attentive to so far, for reason of an irrational and obstinate fascination for our body-mind-experience, and our puny self.

So when these, that didn’t have a true reality, go; when these, that didn’t stand the mark of eternity, wither; then our fascination shifts for that which cannot go, wither, or crumble. For what stays massively behind. This reality of ourself hits us in the face — what we are, what we were even when we weren’t looking, weren’t interested, had our life within the limitations of our body-mind. Then it comes soothing us, telling us of our nature, of our grandeur. Then, what falls apart is not just our body or our skills, but also our beliefs about our mistaken reality. Our error as to what our nature is. Now we have a conversation with the infinite, and a rising love affair with the eternal. Now we have a compassion for what we believed ourself to be — body, mind, self, skill, experience — and that now have the humility to show their frail existence. Now we stop minding so much about them, and we find the peace that it is to do so.

So where do we choose to go when we cannot go anywhere, when places become fewer, when time stops being a promise, when circumstances lessen? Where is this place that our body cannot take us to, and that comprehends all that we as a body were chasing relentlessly? What is it that our thoughts cannot give us, and that we now find is here behind and before every thought, every belief, hope, or fantasy? There is a sumptuous gift behind every body or mind that loses grip on the objective world. There is a treasure in the quiet home of our self, when we are asked to stop seeking our happy self in a thousand places, practices, or experiences.

There comes a time when we cannot chase our preferences anymore. When we have to leave behind our dearest experiences. When we have no more time to become, attain, grasp that which we want to grasp, attain, become. But there is offered a time for letting go, for a sweet abandon, for uncovering that which in us can never wither, weaken, age, crumble, suffer any kind of ailment. There is a place which holds the whole world in its loving heart, and this place of love is ourself when we have renounced to find it within time, place, or circumstance. There is a virtue in not expecting from body, mind, world, experience, what they can never give us. There is a virtue in resting where we are, where we swallow body, mind, world in an instant, and are free in spite of circumstances.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Paul Cézanne (1839-1906)

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Website:
– Paul Cézanne (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
Other ‘Ways of Being’ from the blog…

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Our Human Condition

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Winter Scene on the Ice’ – Jan van Goyen, 1641 – WikiArt

There is not a person in a thought, or in an assembly of thoughts. Not anymore than there is a person in a body or an emotion, or an activity of the body, a reaction after the emotion. These are but things that exist, but don’t make the complexity and radiance required in there being a person, an animal, or any kind of entity. This world is populated by objects, by appearances, by bodies, but not by persons or entities as such. There are no persons, nobody here that could claim to have its own, independent, separate reality. To think that there is, is an illusion, an invention, one of our many well-rehearsed thoughts.

But of course, beliefs have magic. If we believe to be a person, then we are one. If we believe that there are individuals, a world, untold suffering, then the source is obliging. It will create the reality of one such world, will give us the suffering we claim to have, will manufacture all our many conflicts, which we have come to be attached to, and to believe in. Everything is only a temporary, dreamlike appearance in and of reality, but not reality itself. The more you will believe to be a person, the more you will be one. The more consistency this person will acquire, the more suffering he or she will experience, and the more conflictual will be the world, for you have given them a reality they do not have — except for the reality of consciousness.

We have to keep knowing that we are aware, that we are awareness itself. Being a person is about knowing, not about a body, or a handful of thoughts. The body comes second to knowing. There is knowing first, and then a whole world unfolds, makes itself known. The reality of the world is in knowing, not in there being a world, not in there being a person. Knowing takes it all, wins the game. We’ve got to be aware of that. Then the world is shining. So is the person. They may not be truly here, in reality, but they shine with the transparency of knowing.

Every entity that exists, finds its reality within, from an inside experience. So to be a person is not to be a person, not in its reality. We are a person only from the vantage point of a thought, a belief, a representation, but not from inside, not from the depth of being. There, there is no person, no separation, no suffering, only the infinite body of knowing. After all, could a world with its own individual reality be harmonious or beautiful? Or is beauty or harmony conferred to the world by the grander reality of knowing? A world with its reality conferred by thoughts, beliefs, contains conflict, difficulties, suffering, for it is not recognised for what it is. We have confused the world with our misunderstanding, have rendered it an insecure place, and have made ourself an insecure person, constantly seeking its security in the insecurity of a world, which obviously is a vain enterprise.

So if there ever is to be a person, there is a person in infinity. If there ever is to be a world, there is a world in eternity. The world, our body, our thoughts, are all playgrounds for the infinite. Nothing more. If we do not know that, then we will be a suffering self, a person, living amongst the endless conflicts of the world. If we know we are infinity, then the world will oblige, and acquire the colours of the infinite. As for us, we will be playing being a person, or a thought, but with none of the sufferings or conflicts usually attached with their invented reality. We will remain infinity, eternity, in all occasions, no matter how much we live in time and place, and adopt for a while the limited vantage point of a body and a mind. Our own infinite reality will stay the only reality there is.

Now, imagine a world, a society of people where the only reality there is, is the reality of the infinite, of the eternal. What would this world be? What would our many personhoods be? Where could our suffering and conflicts stand in infinity? Where would our life turmoil thrive in eternity? The whole world — conflict, suffering, everything — stands within one single belief or misunderstanding. For the rest, eternity only is the one shaping the world. Infinity the one making a person — that is our human condition.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Jan Van Goyen (1596-1656)

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Website:
– Jan Van Goyen (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

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