The Great Concealment

‘Young Woman in a Black and Green Bonnet’ (part) – Mary Cassatt, 1890 – Wikimedia

It is the most ingenious, virtuoso act of dissimulation that was ever put on in this world. Something that would require thousands of years of an immense and diverse body of literature and practices to cancel and bring back into the light. In fact, the story goes that, in the beginning, the world was only an undifferentiated spirit. It was all one, knowing no separation, nothing that could make it two, divided, conflictual, or with an ounce of suffering. Although insubstantial and incorporeal, it was a solid world, full to the brim with its own energy. It was a good world, a happy one, and peace was like its very essence, palpable in all circumstances. Place or time had not yet corrupted it, and there was, lingering within it, a quality of impersonal knowing that made it conscious of itself, although not as a thing to be conscious of.

Then, in this ocean of peace came trouble. Out of the growing complexities of bodies, a new idea emerged. Out of pure, undifferentiated being came the belief in a particular, separate being that can be qualified and pointed at. The one knowing presence that we are and that is the world’s essence, was slowly made into many. Entities have suddenly appeared, taking the form of separate objects. Oneness was lost and the world was made fragile, prey to the rising waters of thinking, the absurd presumption of matter, and the belief in the reality of time and place. Under the influence of the body and the senses, grew the belief in the reality of our own separate self. We started objectifying our own being, making it into a thing, a person, an entity separate from other things and entities. We have divided the one and only reality into bits and pieces, and in doing so have invited lack, incompleteness, suffering, and the many conflicts generated by such a belief.

While inventing a self where there was only the Self, we have created boundaries where there was none. While objectifying being, we have concealed the infinite nature of our being. The Infinite disappeared from our sight. We hid it, ate it, made it look as if not there, even though everything and everyone is only made of its humble presence. We have created the sense of a finite entity, and have concealed our true nature in it. Our plain desire to be was a too selfish act. It displaced infinity and made it look as the finite. It created time and concealed eternity in it. It gave us a place for our body, but made the placeless unseen. The claiming of our own personal, separate being broke the peace that is the nature of infinite being. It put truth in jeopardy, and dissimulated it inside a lie. The infinite can never be a thing. It is not in its prerogative. If we make it into one, it goes hiding. It becomes concealed under the false appearance of a separate self, under that which is not there. We have dissimulated the real in the unreal. The infinite in the finite. Happiness in suffering. And the glory of the spirit in the conflicts of a mundane life.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Mary Cassatt (1844-1926)

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Website:
– Mary Cassatt (Wikipedia)

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The Intimacy of Experience

‘First Leaves, near Nantes’ – Camille Corot, 1855 – WikiArt

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I will tell you where to be
. Be where every experience feels an equally good experience. Don’t be attached to judgment and comparison. These are the mind’s favorite tools and activities. The mind tricks you to believe that experience is an uneven ground. That according to the content of your experience, you will be gifted with either happiness or suffering, peace or conflict, harmony or disorder. So the experience you are having becomes extraordinarily important. We become dependent on what happens to us, and come to dread it. So we retire into the secure place of our habitual self, with its cortège of worry, control, expectation, and manipulation.

There is a place in us where you don’t find experience to be such a determining factor. Where you will not let experience determine you, fix you, limit you. You won’t be shaped by its content. You won’t be made into something, someone, with qualities and flaws, to be judged, evaluated, compared with — the likeness of experience — in fact, just another object. The mind is a manufacturer of objects, entities, persons, fixing the insubstantial nature of your being into a self to be moulded and made either happy or miserable. To be made happy by an experience is to be cheated on by it: we are being manipulated, and made to believe an illusion. To let experience make us miserable is sheer deceitfulness, it is us being easily dazzled by the treachery and artifice of objects.

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Continue this exploration of the nature of experience… (READ MORE…)

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The Possibility We Are In

‘Old Sarum’ – John Constable, 1834 – WikiArt

Whatever there is is God’s presence felt. And whatever we may feel of God’s presence, is what there is here and now, including what exists and appears. It is all here for our recollecting, all here that we can be and be god like. Every experience that we may have, every sorrow and every joy, every fear or trust, every ugly or beautiful appearance, is felt and seen because of our being first. To watch anything is to be watched in return by a presence watching. We can make ourself disappear in it, and be without a self, without the self we have always known and colluded with. And we can share of that impersonal, infinite being that is not ours, but that we can be and embrace as our own. So ‘I am’ is the secret door opener within us, that will give us the world we are in. We will have an aggrandised property, or a world made of the very size of ourself, infinite, manageable, and towards which our being may shine a benevolent beam of light and peace. That I feel is a possibility.

The world will have its secret identity disclosed to us. And we too will have our secret identity revealed. Both being made one, and ourself being of it. Others will cease being others. They will join us as that shared one being. There won’t be any jealousy or comparison, but a rejoicing in and as that oneness felt. Our fate and destiny will be contained inside us, within our own being. There won’t be a time to hope for, or a place to fail in, or a self to mess up. There won’t be a fear of tomorrow, or a regret of yesterday, for both will have merged in and as the being that we are. Time and place will have come to be only convenience. And our very being will have come to be the time and place we are in. That too is a possibility.

The knowing of our own being will have come to be our only experience. The many will have shrunk into the one, and the infinite will have subdued our senses, and made itself seen, heard, touched, and contained within our experience. Happiness will cease being a temporary achievement, and will become the flavour of our shared being with people and things. We will have joy woven into every single corner of our life. That’s the possibility we have at hand.

Movement will be seen as the manifold expression of stillness, and silence recognised as the only component of our living symphony. Turmoil will be felt as this last bit of ourself that we have yet to embrace — not something to be afraid of, but an opportunity that we welcome. We have to see this as a possibility.

So this life is the garden of Eden we once extricated ourself from, but have in fact never left otherwise than in our imagination. And love is not an occasional encounter, but the very air we take our breath from. I’m just throwing the possibility in the air.

Now we recognise after all, that the being of God is what we are — the possibility we are in, without there being a God or a ‘we’.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by John Constable (1776-1837)

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Website:
John Constable (Wikipedia)

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The Coveted Jewel

‘Meera and Krishna’ – City Palace Museum, Udaipur – Wikimedia

With god, or with our utmost being, one shouldn’t be too clinical. Presence is better seen, better felt, as our beloved. That’s how you have truth nearer, when you’re in love with it, and want to bring it close, so very close to you. Because its most intimate essence is not at a distance from you, but has merged in you, and as you, from the eternal now, so that you could remember him on all occasions, and feel her, feel him, as the very core of your eternal being. So your beloved is already hugging you, forever holding you in its infinite, most loving embrace. That’s where you draw your unabated search from, for who wouldn’t do anything, anything at all, to seek to reunite with the love of his life. And how could you not cross the most ruthless torrent to marry the intimate essence of her wondrous being. So go through love. Seek her in your tender heart, where she has been aching for your presence. Look for him in your innermost bosom, where only he longs to surrender. And feel the pang of separation, for it is itself the pathway to your beloved.

And there is more to it: love is uncompromising. So you won’t fancy being separated, won’t like finding yourself away from the warmth of your beloved. So your gaze will never wander far and away from your lover’s tender eyes. And you won’t find difficult to spot her even in the wildest display of experiences and activities, where objects come to assail you. You won’t be easily seduced by another than your beloved, for who would want to leave the bliss of a shared love for the chill contained in seeking an outside pleasure, far so far away from your lover’s beating heart. But be careful now, for this love for the beloved is a unique love. Beware! You can never love your loved one as an other. Love is indivisible. The love you feel is always only the expression of your own silent being. So you will have to let your lover go, not because you separate from her, but rather because you merge your being with his being, and in so doing become one being. This one beingness of the lover and the beloved is the truth of eternal love. Love cannot be split in two, and the love you feel for the beloved — for any beloved — doesn’t belong to you. Love is a burning flame that consumes itself into itself. For there is always ever one mind, one love, one being, regardless of the number of apparent lovers. This is what makes love the most coveted jewel of our lives. Because you disappear, and in that disappearing, you find your gorgeous, luminous, infinite self.

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Text by Alain Joly

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