The Burning Ground

Posted on by Alain Joly

‘Fort George Island’ – Thomas Moran, 1880 – Wikimedia

There is no looking away from God. What we are, think, do, feel, experience, is already belonging to something that is prior. We don’t live inside one limited, time-bound reality and have to look for another grander reality for a form of relief, or resolution. We are already living in the reality that we are seeking, already tasting of the eternal life that we are longing for, already having the infinite as our most precious body. Our many thoughts are prayers, although they don’t seem to be. They are born out of desperation and have a mission. They are seekers, soldiers, working at a form of freedom and happiness, trying hard to go beyond their own limitations. They are clumsy, but they keep their gaze fixed on the eternal which they come from and which we desire to merge with again. We know our home though we have lost touch with it, and are seeking it back in every possible way. So look at what our thoughts are aiming at, the ground of being where they once were born and formed. Be and abide as that place of being, which is their playful ground. Be the motionless where they can live and thrive, and be relieved of their seeking.

Our actions are prostrations before the One. They are not born of an endless line of causation. That is only their superficial clothing. Our feet, and our doing are already treading the infinite that we are looking for, without our knowing it. This vastness without end or dimension is the stage for our many experiences. Everything we do, we do in the hope of retrieving our original essence. Our actions are either escapes from suffering and death, or attempts to reach a state of harmony or meaning. So look only in the direction toward which they prostrate themselves and at which they aim. Find that placeless place where they have the freedom to appear. Be what they are restlessly bowing before. Feel that we are their ground of being, where they come and are consumed one after the other into the One. We are but a burning ground, swallowing everything that comes and goes into the flame of motionless being. Our actions are already ashes, and we are the flame inside which they for an infinitesimal time live before disappearing. In fact, we have our whole life taking place and shape in a spark of eternity. Now see that what we are, think, do, feel, perceive, is better experienced from the position of that burning ground of being. There we acquire unity and meaning, and everything clothes itself in the peace which is our essential being.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Thomas Moran (1837-1926)

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Website:
– Thomas Moran (Wikipedia)

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A Fabulous Secret

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Poetry of N. Gumilyov’ – Oleh Sokolov, 1973 – WikiArt

I’ve always had the intuition that writing hid a fabulous secret. That there lay a soft power, a beauty to which no other thing compares. That words could express harmony. That a particular form of them could take me into the unformed, into the soft ether of life. That words had the capacity to unravel the meaning of the totality of possible existence. That they were alchemists that could produce in all of us the perfume of their own land of birth — which is ours too. That they could clear all the mist that keeps lingering around this life of ours. This is the promise that words held for me. And I do not mean that they could do all of that through their explanatory power alone. Through their simple, logic, arithmetic value. They could and would comply to do so if you wanted them to. But it’s not quite why I had praised them all along. Words could seduce me through their music alone. Through their soft capacity for intimacy and poetry. Through the intrinsic harmony that they carried, and were a vehicle for. Words could be like Tango dancers. And their arabesque was love itself.

And yet. Yet words had eluded me all my life. I have always been short of them. They were never allowed to run freely in my field. They had been concealed by the majesty of pain. But would I be willing to engage with them, that they would come hastily as a balm on myself. Would I be willing to let them express their all, that they would arrive in bouquets that flowered with all their perfume. Words can act in us as clarifiers. They make clear and clean. And they can be hard workers, if you let them be. If you keep still while they come inviting you into their round. This is where they service you — in the power of their expression. This is where they silence you — in the stillness of their homeland. This is where they present you with the simple gift of being. Listen to them carefully: they will show you how they share the same ground of being than you. I’ve always had the intuition that writing hid a fabulous secret…

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Oleh Sokolov (1919-1990)

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Website:
– Oleh Sokolov (WikiArt)

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The Substance of God

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Neubrandenburg’ – Caspar David Friedrich, 1816 – WikiArt

How can we account for the beauty of the world? Because in spite of everything that is happening within and without, and afflicts us, leaves us distressed, the world bears at its core an intrinsic perfection. It’s not difficult to see. You only have to stand back, to release the grip, be less involved. To look afresh at the blue sky above your head. To see that a blue sky is an extraordinary thing. As is a tree, and the song of the wind in its foliage. As is a cloud, and the sudden tapping of the millions of drops that come to wet the land. As is any human endeavour, and the skill it takes to play a symphony from Beethoven. As is a chair, a blanket, a paper bin, anything that exists. Existence is a baffling thing. It is the core of the matter — that anything exists — and to understand it is to crack the nature of reality. What is the secret hidden behind any appearance? How can a form acquire beauty, a movement express harmony, a shape provoke love? And more interesting even, how is beauty made ugliness, harmony turned into disorder, love transformed into enmity, perfection changed into chaos? What are the workings behind it all?

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A meditation on the beauty and substance of the world… (READ MORE…)

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