Overflowing Questions

‘Edge of a Lake (Souvenir of Italy)’ – Camille Corot, c.1855-60 – WikiArt

Wouldn’t you like to have a knowledge which cannot be surpassed, which amounts to everything? That has in its core the truth of living, the philosopher’s stone from which everything springs, and to which all appearances owe their existence to? Actually, don’t you already long for it, and have done so for as long as you can remember? Is it not what you secretly hope for in your life? To have this knowledge, this direct access to the peace of your being? To have it here at hand, like a secret bond which you can find under and within every difficult situation, every outrage, every burst of suffering? And wouldn’t you love to harvest what this intimate knowledge contains? Its most reliable sense of joy, of contentment, and see yourself plentiful, complete, enough, in an absence of need? Wouldn’t that be great? To uncover it, and let it find its natural place in you, and as you, easily, without your doing very much about it? Wouldn’t that be great? Would anything be more valuable to you? Would that not be worth a life? Any life?

And what if you were told that you are not this bunch of objects which you have believed yourself to be — these endless qualifications, and the myriad of thoughts and feelings to which you have tied yourself with? Wouldn’t that give you freedom, a sense of release? To be unattached, not bound to your body-mind, at least not in a fundamental way? Wouldn’t that be healing, to be not the body but what holds it in its embrace? Wouldn’t that be soothing, to be not the mind but that which lends it the space to wander about? What is to you more elating and convincing than finding yourself naturally, effortlessly, in a place of health and vigour? The body’s ailments? The mind’s silly wanderings? Well, what if they were not really yours? Wouldn’t you like to find out, what would be their fate when left alone? What could be their trajectory when you rest peaceful in your own healthy, infinite body of awareness? Wouldn’t that be great to make this discovery? To have the final answer behind all that has been troubling you for so long?

And what if you were to uncover some even bigger findings? That behind your long, busy, eventful, suffering life, there has been a stillness, a silence which couldn’t be stirred or broken? And that nothing truly ever happened in your life? That it has been just a passing dream? What would be the implications of that ? And what if you were to find out that the world is just only clothed by the awareness of it? That it is not there in the way you had imagined so far? And that behind it all was also dawning the certainty, the knowing of your immortal, undefeatable nature? Wouldn’t that be wonderful? To see, feel, touch the truth of it with your hands, that death is a myth? That it is not there? Not in the least? Wouldn’t that be extraordinary? That things do die but not you? That body does become ashes but not you — not that which you truly are? That mind withers away but not you — not your primal being which you have to concede is eternal, is infinite? Wouldn’t that take your breath away? Wouldn’t that blow your mind?

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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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The Philosopher’s Stone

Here is a reminder inspired from the words of Rupert Spira. It is necessary and terribly efficient to look into these matters for ourselves. This is why I like to share here the parts of a spiritual teaching that sounds like ‘something to do’, something to experiment and verify for ourselves:

See that all objects in your life are made out of gold, of this most precious thing, which is your self. That is the fabric of the world. The way to make real in your life this scratching and the discovery of the gold underneath, is to treat – relate to – everything, animals, people, objects, in that loving way. Then, the world responds, it says ‘thank you’…

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Further exploring on the subject:

We discover that the stuff the world is made out of is more precious than gold. It’s made out of our self. The most precious thing. When you touch an object, you feel that it’s made out only of your self. As soon as we start treating the world like that, the world says thank you. The world responds. People, animal, and even so called dead stuff, it turns round and the first thing it says to us is thank you for treating me as I am. It has an infinite ways of saying thank you, and each way is uniquely tailored to each body-mind. But in one way or another, the world returns the gift. You treat me as I am, I will behave with you as I am. If someone truly loves and respect what we are, it commands us to behave as we truly are. It’s the ultimate generosity. The reciprocation that we get from people, from the world, from objects, that’s the real confirmation. The real confirmation really comes in our lives, in ordinary ways.”
~ Rupert Spira (From YouTube video clip ‘A Fairy Story’)

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There was a deep widening intensity, an imminent clarity of that otherness, with its impenetrable strength and purity. What was beautiful was now glorified in splendour; everything was clothed in it; there was ecstasy and laughter not only deeply within but among the palms and the rice fields. Love is not a common thing but it was there in the hut with an oil lamp; it was with that old woman, carrying something heavy on her head; with that naked boy, swinging on a piece of string a piece of wood which gave out many sparks for it was his fireworks. It was everywhere, so common that you could pick it up under a dead leaf or in that jasmine by the old crumbling house.”
~ J. Krishnamurti (‘Krishnamurti’s Notebook’, Part 7 – Madras 20th November to 17th December 1961)

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This day is dear to me above all other days, 
for today the Beloved Lord is a guest in my house; 
My chamber and my courtyard are beautiful with His presence. 
My longings sing His Name, and they are become lost in His great beauty
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~ Kabir

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You are what you are, timelessly, but of what use is it to you unless you know it and act on it? Your begging bowl may be of pure gold, but as long as you do not know it, you are a pauper. You must know your inner worth and trust it and express it in the daily sacrifice of desire and fear. (…) Your only proof is in yourself. If you find that you turn to gold, it will be a sign that you have touched the philosopher’s stone.”
~ Nisargadatta Maharaj (‘I Am That’)

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The Self is the centre of beauty and changeless. The symbols are numerous, but the centre is only one, the inmost core of one’s being. Beauty is the real nature of the Self and is unlimited. Beauty anoints with its own gild everything with which it comes into contact. (…) Beauty is something by which you are attracted without a cause. You are most attracted to your own self. Or in other words, your own nature is the only thing that can attract you. So beauty is only an experience of one’s own nature. (…) When the object is removed, the beauty stands alone and permanent.”
~ Atmananda Krishna Menon (‘Notes on Spiritual Discourses of Shri Atmananda’ by Nitya Tripta’)

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The state of bliss that arises when you are freed of the accumulated experiences of separation, is like the relief you experience by putting aside a heavy load. The appearance of this light is like the discovery of a treasure once lost, the realm of universal non-duality.”
~ Abhinavagupta (from Anuttarāṣṭikā)

 

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The photo is by Rüstü Bozkus / Pixabay

Read this fairy tale ‘Ishani’s Quest’ based on this very topic…

Bibliography:
– ‘Presence’, Vol. I & II – by Rupert Spira (Non-Duality Press)
– ‘Krishnamurti’s Notebook’ – by J. Krishnamurti – (Krishnamurti Publications of America,US)
– ‘I Am That’, by Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj (Chetana Pvt.Ltd)

Websites:
Rupert Spira
J. Krishnamurti
Atmananda Krishna Menon (Wikipedia)
Nisargadatta Maharaj (Wikipedia)
Abhinavagupta (Wikipedia)
Kabir (Wikipedia)

Suggestions:
Fleeing to God (other pointers from the blog)
Khetwadi Lane (Homage to Nisargadatta Maharaj)
Kabir Says: (Homage to Kabir)
A Day at Brockwood Park (Homage to J. Krishnamurti)