If people only knew. That they are so close. So close to living with the most profound peace in their heart. So close. So close to having a panoramic understanding of what it is to be who we are. So close to knowing the reason behind the word ‘God’. What it means. What it is, here, now, in this human life. If only they knew. If only we knew. How there is a joy that stands hidden just behind our everyday suffering. A joy, quiet and indestructible, that is present now, at the time of our indomitable sorrow. A joy that permeates our most stubborn feelings of despair. If only they knew. That silence is the very temple of their being, where the most sublime healing can take place. A silence where we can let everything go, to be the pristine self that we have always been. At last. Ah! If only they knew.
If only people knew. That life has an inherent, unnoticed simplicity. That the world that stands in front of them, is not quite the world they had in mind. If only we knew. That we own the beauty we see, we hear. That we hold the world, right here, close, so close to our being. That we were never parted from it. That it is our expression, and that we make it just the way we are. If only we had noticed. That love is not another feeling. Not something we choose to give or to hold back. That there is a love, so wide, so close, so natural. A love we cannot help. A love that is the structure of our self. Its profound nature. Ah! If only they knew. We. Us all. How it could change the dice. How it could make love our shared temple. To live in. Now. Here. If only we knew. How close it stands from us. If only. Ah!
And yet we know. Don’t we? We all know. We know that what we get is not the real deal. That this life is not quite the life we were meant to live. This is why we have hopes, dreams, expectations, projections. This is why we place love, friendship, happiness, beauty at the top of our list. We have that hint, that intuition. We know that the promise is here. That it stands close. So close. Ready to wash our eyes. Ready to speak its word to our ear. A word that we haven’t yet deciphered. Haven’t yet pronounced. That will bridge what we know with what we don’t know yet. And this word is ourself. What we are. A logos in our sky. That needs to be uttered once. Just once. A crossing of our bridge. To finally know what we knew. What we forgot. That which is eternally ours. Unto the ages of ages.
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Text and photo by Alain Joly
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