The Voice in Your Head

There is a voice inside your head that is a true tyrant. It has an opinion on everything, always judging, evaluating, commenting — a gossip of the worst kind. It constantly informs you of its likes and dislikes, without you ever truly asking for it. Notice that most situations don’t fit its expectations, for it is a hard one to satisfy. But more than being a tyrant, it is cunning and deceitful. For it pretends to be the voice of an entity — the very person that you are. And it is a mentor so convincing and attractive, that you would follow it anywhere — anywhere, and at any cost — including at the cost of being unhappy, uncertain, fearful, dispossessed of your beautiful self. So please remove yourself from its spell. And do it now. For this voice is not your self. It is placed much too far ahead of yourself. This fake identity is a hesitant one, desirous, not grounded, forever running after its own projected, illusory, unreachable recipe for happiness.

This constant judging and seeking may look like a quest for happiness but it is not. You are not doing it well. This is not the way to happiness: to be a believer, a follower, gullible to the point of endorsing the first voice that comes up in your mind. But only observe it, and you will see that this voice is as thin as the blink of an eye, as barren as a thought can be when it pretends to be the self from which it derives its trifling existence. You have to rewind it all, back to a place of not knowing. For this voice’s pretentious knowing to which you have succumbed, diverts you from your goal, from this innate peace which is here, quietly dormant at home, in your self, as that which you are before all knowing, all judging, all beliefs, curled as your inborn, unsoilable innocence. This unborn stillness is your true self, innocent but all-knowing, still but with the activity of a thousand suns, unborn but bearing the life of a universe, vulnerable to your noticing, but whose presence is unbreakable and therefore immortal.

That one is a more trustable match if you ask me. That one doesn’t need a voice to represent itself. It is the unguarded one, that needs no protection and no incentive for being itself, wide-open, naked as no one and no thing ever was naked before, and will ever be. Its apparent vulnerability is the measure of its utter invulnerability. This inner being or presence is all that a thought, or a voice in the head, could never be. It is humble to the point of espousing the reality of everything, bright to the point of being transparent, undoubtedly present to the point of seeming not there, and so intimately woven in the now that it is overlooked and sought only in the future, which is nothing but a thought in your head. So leave your outer voice and remain as your inner being only. Or rather see that this assertive voice is rendered to its ridiculous and idiotic redundancy, when you observe it from the right perspective of being. So the voice in your head is found to be just a ghost. It never was there as the self you believed it to be. It is the empty shell of an absent being. But its mimicry is nevertheless hiding the voiceless, headless silent being that is your true and only self.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Suggestion:
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The Nature of Everything

We don’t apprehend reality, or ‘what is’, directly, fully. Thought is in the way. There is a thin screen — in fact not so thin — that prevents us from seeing reality. This layer between ourself and our true being has the consistency of an old, worn out thinking habit. We have projected a pseudo reality of ourself as an entity, before we have even comprehended the reality of everything. So we have made a mash up of it all. We have made thought into a confused and a confusing device, entangled as it is with feelings and perceptions. So thought is slowing us down. And the result is that we as thought have created this world such as it is: divided, broken up, split apart, and therefore confused, angry, in capacity to hate another. Then, thought has set itself up as the one that can solve it all. Don’t get me wrong here, thought can help solving many intricate problems, and can create the most wonderful things. But it can never be the saviour of our world, or of ourself. It has first to go down its pedestal and take a step aside.

For thought is not just thought. It is much more than that and this is where the problem lies. Thought, strengthened by feelings and experience, has developed to the point of being us. We are a thought that has grown two legs. This is how we imagine ourself to be separate: by thinking ourself to be a body and mind; and by thinking the world to be out there. But thought has here produced an illusion. In trusting thought, we have failed to see that we are not on an equal footing with the world. We are not an existing thing along with ten thousand other existing things. We are the presence that is hosting every single existing thing including our body-mind, in its one infinite, all-pervading embrace. So we never have the right focus. We are always wrongly favouring the dictates of thought, which is the most conditioned instrument there is. So thought has become that bit of haziness in front of our vision. It is that made up confusion in front of our inborn clarity. It is an illusion made entity. But a well-conducted thought can be of help to see itself as being the problem. It can be the thorn that helps removing the thorn, and then is discarded. When the thought of ourself gets out of the way, our being is then seen to have espoused reality. The distance between ourself and ‘what is’ is seen to be non existent. And we will then have vision and clarity, for our self as a being separate from reality is nowhere to be found.

Without a self, whose structure is nothing but a thought swollen by its many identifications with feelings and experiences, the nature of reality is seen in a new light. Without a self to break it up, the structure of reality appears undivided. Because it is undivided, it is one. Because it is one, nothing in it can appear that is other than itself. Not a person. Not a thought. Not a world. Nothing. The world, the person, the thought, everything, has been revealed as being the One — a reality so infinite that nothing can be by its side, with its own separate existence. Therefore this reality can only be who we are, since it is the only one thing that is in capacity to be. So we are that. Or rather ‘that only is’, since there cannot even be a ‘we’ to be it, let alone to become it. So we don’t need a thought to exist, or to represent us. We don’t need an idea of ourself. And our identity is not dependent on objects of any kind. We are ourself by ourself. And this recognition can never be made by thought. It is alive. A living truth whose reality can only be seen, like something that suddenly comes into focus. Then our self, the world, everything, is that living truth — what we all participate in. This shared being is sometimes called love. Unless you prefer to call it happiness. Or God.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Suggestion:
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A Trail of Glory

‘The River of Light’ – Frederic Edwin Church, 1877 – WikiArt

If you happen to feel your being one day, don’t let it go out of sight. Follow it everywhere it is. Let it be your only guide. Be gently intoxicated by it, by yourself, by who you are, truly, when you have relinquished this obsession of being a body, and a mind. This is your one and only duty, to stay there, with being, to abide in it, and let yourself be moved by its unmoving current. Don’t go off at a tangent. Don’t take a single step, unless you have with you, as you, this being that you are, and that you could crush at any time, with the single thought that you have your own, separate being. Remember it to be your ultimate identity, the widest circle of your self, without any border, limitless, unfettered by any condition whatsoever.

Feel it in you, as being you, when you go to apparent places. Being tends to stay at home and let your body do the moving. For being never goes anywhere — it is not the travelling type. This is how you can simply go to buy some bread in your street and live a captivating adventure, or explore the farthermost recesses of the earth while feeling quietly at home. Feel that you as being are housing the world, that being is the landscape in which your life is taking place. So be only concerned with the landscape and life will then flow of its own accord. Don’t start believing that you have a life of your own. That’s only the prerogative of the suffering self. No life can be lived happily with an architecture or a design outside being.

And remember that being is a love affair. A renouncing of your own limited self, for a marriage with the beloved truth of your being. A free, princely, bounteous bowing to the infinite. So don’t start making an effort to be, for any effort is an attempt from the part of a belief to reassess its position as a distant, separate, other being. That’s how your nature becomes unseen, when you have replaced it with your own fake one, with your own invented self. For being never hides, if you don’t let it disappear under the weight of your seeking it, of your being somebody that is lacking. So don’t let your being escape you. Don’t lose its trail of joy and glory. Don’t be the one fleeing, running away, desiring to be yourself, by yourself, and then seeking to bring yourself back to the happiness that you have lost, in so many, so many immoderate, superfluous, inappropriate ways. Seek your bliss in being — where it only lies.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Frederic Edwin Church (1826-1900)

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Website:
Frederic Edwin Church (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
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A Light to Yourself

‘The Sun’ – Edvard Munch, 1911-16 – WikiArt

There will come a time when words will slow you down. When you will want to explore yourself on your own, without the help of a book or a teacher, free from explanation or guidance. You will want to follow your own trajectory, to be a grownup, and experience your beloved, impersonal, undivided self by yourself and through yourself. You will want, as Krishnamurti said, to “be a light to yourself“. You will find your own security there, in this light, at the source of your transparency, where you will find no division from where to be insecure. You will find your happiness bubbling from your infinite being, where no self can be located, and therefore no suffering. And you will be under the authority of your own being, that will show you the way, through a door eternally open and inviting. You will be on an eternal visit of yourself. And you will meditate, not to reach who you are, not to get there, but to rejoice in it, and give your whole attention to your beloved — though you already have her, have him, all day, on all occasions, near you, close, so very close to you. And you will feel her love as being so fully yours, that you will need no incentive, no set hours, to be being her own being. And you will see around you, and within you, so much beauty, that you will not have to look for it, other than by being with him, and within him. And you will be in need of no thought, of no TV show, to distract yourself from yourself, for how would you want to be distracted from being so wholly in love with the love of your life? So books will have become a bore to get you there, but you’d still read them as you read poetry. And a teacher will be of no use to you, but you’d still be eager for the company of a friend. And you’d go about your life with confidence, because you’re not alone to deal with it. Rather, your life will have become your being, and your being, your life. And at the same time, you will be alone, self-sufficient, in no need of anything, of anyone, to be fully yourself, to be happy. Therefore, you’d give yourself to all, to everything, you’d be a sharer of being, and a passionate lover of beings, and of things. Yes. That’s it. You’d be a light to yourself. A light to yourself.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Edvard Munch (1863-1944)

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Websites:
Edvard Munch (Wikipedia)
J. Krishnamurti

Suggestion:
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Perfect Days

’Perfect Days’ – by Wim Wenders (with Koji Yakusho)

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All my films deal with how to live.”
~ Wim Wenders

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Why do we watch a movie or enjoy any piece of art but for the joy, happiness, or relief we derive from such activity? Well, sometimes we use a movie not so much to feel, but rather to stop feeling. We want to be alleviated from our sense of boredom, or be distracted from our constant worry, or have the lowest ambition to be rewarded with pleasure, plain simple pleasure which, if not delivered, will make us move on to something else. Film as an art form is ambiguous, for it has in itself an entertaining power which makes it the prey to our most suspect desires. Well, Wim Wenders, in this movie, wasn’t going to give way to that ubiquitous trap and fall. With ‘Perfect Days’, he made a movie in which there is no desire to be had, which offers no suspense, no excitement, no resolution of any kind, but from which you would never want to move away. A movie that describes the quiet, plain, orderly living of a man whose job is to clean public toilets in Tokyo.

Hirayama lives each and everyday as if it was a perfect day. For him, there is no possibility of failure in life. And he makes sure that boredom is an impossibility. So he cares. Hirayama cares about everything he does, and seems to be profoundly related to his modest home, to his morning toilet, and to the watering of his plants. He does what he has to do, with no judgment or resistance. He doesn’t mind. He feels his inner freedom. He has everything he needs, so he smiles at life and life smiles back at him. He breathes when he steps outside and looks at the sky as for the first time, the wonder of it all. Then he buys himself a can of coffee from a local vending machine, opens his van, sits, drinks a sip, chooses a song from a bunch of cassette tapes, lights the engine, drives, and listens to ‘The House of the Rising Sun’ by The Animals. For that’s where he is now, in the house of the rising sun, going to his work through the sprawling suburbs of Tokyo’s morning, undisturbed, confident, present.

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A reflection on the film ‘Perfect Days’ by Wim Wenders… (READ MORE…)

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The Fall

‘Storm Clouds Sunset’ – J.M.W. Turner, 1825 – WikiArt

What a strange thing to have believed that we are not enough just as we are. That we need to be something other than this very sweet being or presence that makes us whole in a superb manner. Well, there must have been a belief that got in the way, that separated us from this plain and natural contemplation of our self. We must have come across a division, must have lost the thread, fallen down somehow, sometime, from this inner, blatant clarity. Where did the fall take place? How did we come to lose that which makes our very being, and can therefore never be lost, unless we were to disappear into oblivion? Was it just a simple belief, a little thought that did that? That made us think that we had to start from scratch, from a position of being flawed, insufficient, and that we had to do it all ourself: to succeed or fail, achieve even our happiness or our miserableness? That there was no given in being ourself? That we were small, incompetent in just living contented and blessed?

In fact, we have spoiled the game. We started with the wrong move. We have introduced a defect, a grain of sand that jammed the whole machine. That is: we have made ‘I am’ into ‘I am this’, have blemished being by objectifying it, have introduced a new entity where there was no need for one. I suppose we just wanted to do well, to bring our own contribution, presupposing that something was lacking when all was already perfectly whole and harmonious. So the first thing now is to stay away, to not indulge in being anything, to stop characterising our self when it is already fully characterised by itself, full to the brim with its own being, in no capacity of being more or better than what it is. How would you embellish splendour? How would you add anything to the sublime? Try it and it is but a fall from heaven to hell, from the inherent happiness contained in being complete to the suffering induced by separation and lack. So stop thinking that you can bring anything to yourself. Leave your ambition to be perfected, arranged, aggrandised. Notice that the simple fact of being cannot be improved on. You will never do better than God. Leave your self as pristine as you found it when you first breathed into its transparency.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by J. M. W. Turner (1775-1851)

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Website:
J. M. W. Turner (Wikipedia)

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A Simple World

Keep it simple. Don’t even give in to spirituality. Don’t run after dreams of enlightenment, or new states of consciousness. Don’t go there at all. Keep it utterly simple. Simplicity will give you everything you need for this endeavour. For this is not about religion or spirituality. This is about you. Only you, with no other considerations. So cease conceptualising, being attached to words and ideas. Leave all the big words behind you — awareness, consciousness, meditation. They won’t help you. And please, leave God out of this. Stay only with yourself — that which you are. This will do. This will be enough — being yourself. Simply. Plainly. Leave all your thoughts behind, all that you have gathered about yourself, your beliefs, your hopes, your old identifications. Leave them alone. Be unconcerned. You need one thing only: this simple sense of being yourself — this recognising yourself as being only being. This alone is the most majestic, omniscient, exotic, pedagogical teacher you will ever have. So keep to yourself. Feel the presence that is giving birth to yourself. That first thing that springs out of you. The first brick. That’s simple enough to do.

Don’t leave yourself ever. For they will all try to seduce you — your thoughts, the feelings attached to them, your perceptions in CinemaScope, and these never ending stories about yourself. They will make you take distance, run away into imagination. Don’t let them fabricate you, determine you. Stay simple. Be only with that part of yourself that cannot be twisted, impaired, injured. Be with your unmoving self. It is never going to be more complicated than that. Truth is the simplest affair you will ever come across. You are that which allows for the simple feeling of being. There is no need to add anything to that feeling. Not even a single thought is necessary. You are being yourself before you sit, or stand, or eat, or think. Being yourself requires nothing of you. It is the simplest thing you will ever do. It is baby-level spirituality. So don’t be grandiose. Simply find yourself and stay there. And you won’t find yourself in the many. Simplicity refers to something ‘made of one constituent’, ‘one-fold’ — that’s the etymology of it. You are made of one block. One being. Everything that appears twofold is not yourself. It is duplicity — deceitfulness. And don’t even say that this is about being happy. That will only make you seek happiness. Only look to be yourself. There is nothing to seek in being yourself. Be overly simple. That will make you contented and contained. Gathered in the one single self or reality there is. Therefore unlimited and unbridled. Therefore loving. And the world — phew! How simple it has become!

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Suggestion:
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