On Desperation

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Jeremiah mourning over the Destruction of Jerusalem’ (part) – Rembrandt, 1630 – WikiArt

What needs to be seen and understood is that the story of humanity, the story of every life lived here under the sun, is the story of a desperation. We are fighting off the feeling that something is lacking. We want to reach or attain something, and this something that we are looking for is the same thing for everybody. Whatever form may take our life search, our drives, our dreams, our desires, our pleasures, they are all here to make us feel at peace, content, whole. They are here to free us from ourself, from our search, from our never-ending desperation. Outside, we may put on the appearance of control, normality, and responsibility, but inside we are burning, seeking, longing for that which we have never been able to put into words, explain, rationalise, or make sense of. But in fact, we are looking for something that we already possess in infinite quantity, although unknowingly. We are craving for the abundance that we already have, searching for a peace that is already given, begging for a joy that is throbbing unnoticed in the background of our everyday experience.

Our suffering or desperation is the symptom of this misunderstanding. We fail to notice that we have what we are looking for, that it is here in plain view, already achieved, already formed in and as our most intimate identity. Our self is made of that sweet fire of peace, contentment, and sufficiency. So the misery we are in is only apparent, imagined, made up by our thinking about it, and by our looking for peace unnecessarily, out there, in the wrong place, in experience. There is no amount of effort that will ever help us to attain something that is already attained. On the contrary, the disturbance involved in seeking what we have will cause us misery, in the form of a desperate, separate sense of self. We are too eager. We never sit still, always foraging our experience to harvest some scattered drops of peace or joy, when our very being is already overflowing with them.

The only necessity, or even possibility of being a self separate from experience is through managing the tension involved in seeking a peace that is already our most intimate nature. Our self is the story, the memory of this seeking. When peace is here, there is no self present, no tension that could make us a suffering entity. In fact, we seem to proceed by distraction. We are not looking, and then we complain that it is not there. All our efforts to obtain an enduring peace in our life are vain and doomed to failure for the simple reason that peace is not a thing that can be had. Peace is something that we have to realise is present here and now. It is our vey being, what we are made of, our unborn reality. So there is no real, substantial suffering here to be rid of. It is not that suffering is not experienced. It is that its only reality is only in and as our imagined self. It is but the friction that goes with believing to be a separate entity. Suffering is essentially made of our believed self, which is but our constant seeking to alleviate this apparent misery. The ending of the belief in being a self, which is also the ending of time, space, and separation, will make fully apparent our nature as peace and happiness, in which there can be no suffering, no self, no seeking, no desperation.

.

~~~

Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Rembrandt (1606-1669)

~~~

.

Website:
– Rembrandt (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

.

On God’s Existence

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Calm on the Mediterranean Sea’ – Ivan Aivazovsky, 1892 – WikiArt

There is no god. God is an invention that we have placed far away, out there, as an object for our prayers and hopes. As an entity to whom we can address our suffering. God was given that role so that we are not alone. We have divided ourself up into a self here and another greater self there, between which reside our secret longings and our beliefs. We have made god into a handy projection, for our convenience. A soothing presence who will be there for us after death, whom we can trust and rely on, whom we can give ourself to, and find protection in. We feel good in that undoubted certainty of a god.

But there is no god outside of ourself, no distant god, either in place or time. Of this we can be sure. Because wherever we may travel, however far we may go, we find only ourself. We are bound to our own being which we feel in a ‘here’, and in a ‘now’. So we fail in going somewhere that is outside ourself. It’s an impossible task. We cannot go there. Not in a million years. So god cannot be found outside of ourself. Nothing can. Everywhere is here. And every time is now. The only place for god to be is in our own being. There is no other place to be — even for god. There is no way around it. But we have first to understand our own being, our own nature. There, in ourself, is the resolution of the conundrum of god.

So what is this place of ourself, to which we are bound? What is it made of? If we leave our body aside, and our many thoughts and sensations, if we leave the world out of the picture, what is left of ourself that we can say is here, is now? What is this consciousness that we have lived with for as long as we can remember, and for which we seem to have but little interest ? This thing which has held our peace, our happiness, our perceived sense of beauty, even if only experienced rarely or fleetingly? This consciousness that is holding us, that is giving us our very existence, holding our suffering and our conflicts? Should we not feel grateful to have been held with such consistency? To have been held with our feelings, whether happy or sorrowful? To have been lent a body, whether healthy or sick, and a mind, though both may be just a passing dream?

This thing which is here undoubtedly, showing that peace is possible, that beauty is real, that happiness is within reach, is this not our most profound self? Is it not our very being? What we are here? What we are now? And this god which cannot be anywhere outside of ourself, could this god not be this, this very presence of ourself? Our very being? Our very consciousness? Which we are by nature every day of our life? That which can be felt in every bit of our heart and soul? That can give an explanation for ‘there is no god’? That can give a reality to ‘there is god’? That can show that, in fact, not only there is god, but there is only god? That everything, all that we are and experience, is god? That the god which we had thought at a distance, is nothing but the loving presence and reality of ourself and of everything? That life is nothing but the living, pulsating being of god, which we are only and wholly? And which we share with every other apparent being, and every possible appearance? And that this, is the one thing that ever was, and will ever be? And that this, is not inside ourself, for of ourself it is seen that there is not? And that this, is not outside either, for there is no being outside something inexistant? And that now, at the end of our journey, and all things considered, is realised that god is not even god? Because for a god to be, there would have to be separate things and selves to give it a form, and to call it god. There would still have to be a trace of suffering. There would still have to be separation. So there’s got to be no god. God is only for the poor fellows. But for who we are, there is no god. Only being being, at the most. Beyond that, nothing much can be said, lest we should invent some other god.

.

~~~

Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Ivan Aivazovsky (1817-1900)

~~~

.

Website:
– Ivan Aivazovsky (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

.

The Fantasy of a Self

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Moonlight’ – Winslow Homer, 1874 – WikiArt

We only ever land where we are. There is no escape from where we are. Where we are, is all there is. I mean this deepest place of ourself, from which we have never been separated, is the very thing which we have been looking for in a thousand distant places, in endless situations, in hopes and expectations, in projections, attachments, identifications. Our mind has been thirsting for this place of peace for as long as we can remember, and it has been escaping us with perfect consistency. For there is a rule attached to this place: we can’t find it outside of ourself. And the reason is: there is no place outside of ourself. Ourself — what we are here and now — contains all that we could long for. It is the home which we have left through our contant looking for it in the wrong direction. Our seeking is way too aggressive for its tender being. Our peaceful home lies in the nest that our being is, and this nest of being is where all existence finds its birth and takes its journey.

The problem with accessing our being — our peaceful home — is that we have introduced a self. We have posited a self that is separate from the peace it is looking for. And if peace is situated at a distance from ourself, therefore where we are is the place where peace is not. We have superimposed a self on our peaceful being, and in doing so have invited suffering, which is but the seeking for our lost peace or happiness. It all comes from the connivance of a few thoughts, feelings and sensations, which have set themselves up as a self. It is all part of a scheme on their part, and a gross one if you ask me. For how could something that is coming and going have a self? Something as flittering as a thought, or a sensation, could never produce a self. The self that we think we are, and that we feel is at a distance from experience, is fabricated. It is a product that we have elaborated to feel secure. But we cannot find security in a self. Security is rather the absence of a self, and the merging of ourself with experience, which is felt as oneness.

This self, without our noticing, has created untold damages, it has made life into a havoc. It has invented a within and a without, a here and there, a now and then, when there is in fact only a seamless experience. All these distinctions are of course necessary for our functioning in a world, but they are not the reality. And to ignore their reality is to transform them from a few peaceful, useful devices into brigands that have made experience either something to be feared and avoided, or desired and pursued. In other words, being a self has made experience into a dependence, a battlefield for our own imaginary benefit. But in fact, there is in reality only a now that is ever present and eternal, and a here that has no boundary, no limit, and is infinite. And there is a within that we will cease seing within, for after all thoughts and images are filtering experience to the point of making it their own creation. Thoughts are not just within. They are scattered all over the field of experience, colouring everything we see or hear. And the without will cease being without. For where could without be if not in our intimate experience. So the trees, the houses, and the dog we meet in the street are part of our very own being, for there is only one being out of which they could make an appearance. Where would another being than our being be? To posit another being than our being, or a without without, or a within within, or a there, or a then, is to be absent to our true being or nature, and to live in a world scattered about and fragmented, where reigns every bit of suffering and conflict. But to live as the One renders without within, within without, there here, then now, and our being just only one being. The rest is but a fantasy which we can either buy and suffer from, or borrow and play with.

.

~~~

Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Winslow Homer (1836-1910)

~~~

.

Website:
– Winslow Homer (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
Other ‘Ways of Being’ from the blog…

.

Demons and Angels

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Magnolias’ – Carmen Delaco, 2022 – WikiArt

We are only ever made of thoughts. Sometime, thoughts come elaborate, with clearly defined words, perfect punctuation, following their due purpose. And sometime not. Sometime, they come as lightnings, striking us with a belief, an old stale repetitive assumption. Sometime, they linger unsaid, not pronounced, sneaking in but making untold damages. Sometime they don’t even need to be expressed. They have taken us over, have made a puppet of our life, tearing it apart in every mindless direction. All these thoughts are like little devils, unseen demons, unnoticed burglars stealing our identity. We have been brought to our knees, at the mercy of every one of their injunctions. We have been made just a collection of them, and nothing but an assumption. An idea of ourself. A self literally made up by the constant assault of thoughts, and by our believing them — belief being yet another thought.

Look in every direction you may. Notice here the coming of a hope, of a longing that takes form, but is yet just a thought. And when a worry comes, that this longing may never be fulfilled, it is just another thought that comes dancing with it. Attend to your expectations, to how you now imagine a future event. See how this evocation of the future comes as just another thought in your mind, for there is only ever thinking about the future. The future doesn’t exist, is always only imagined by a random thought. A regret, a desire, a fear, any bout of suffering or satisfaction, any feeling, comes wrapped in and as a thought. Thoughts are everywhere in our world. Even our body, our action, our world, are coloured and shaped by a thought or an image that condition their being perceived. A habit is a thought that took root and grew confident, unchecked, and many of our conditionings were once thoughts that have formed to become the established norm. As long as there is a thought somewhere in the system, that comes to define us, to give us a stand, an identity, that identifies with the body, that separates from the world, that gives a fleeting joy, or a tenacious pain, then we are not alone. We are not independent. We are not being our own identity. We have given it all up to thoughts, and have lost our being in them.

So go behind it all. Go before everything that appears for a while and recedes. Go before every worry, every hope, every mindless desire, behind every dull satisfaction that lingers lazily, every fear that strikes and leaves its trail inside you. Go to the place in you before every thought. Visit that portion of yourself where thoughts are of no consequence, where they are made trivial, ridiculous in their powerlessness. Go where distance is not, for thought as time has created the gap between yourself and your true nature, a gap where hides every shades of conflict and suffering in yourself — which are again thoughts. And go where you discover yourself to be unbreakable, unsoilable, eternal, for death too is another of your endless thoughts, maybe the most perverse one, but one that doesn’t stand being seriously investigated. Notice that thought is always some kind of thing, and that there is one place in yourself that a thing, that a thought, will never touch, or affect, or change: it is that portion of emptiness in yourself, which is only full of itself, and is therefore inaccessible to a thought — any thought. That placeless place is your peaceful being, your identity, who you truly are. To stand as that will freeze dead all the many thoughts whose only function was to give you support or approval, identity or escape, or contentment. These are burglar- or demon-thoughts, that come to lie to you, and try to impose their views on everything and on yourself. But a thought that is starting its journey from that virgin place of being is but a devotee and an angel, respecting your true identity and carrying in its wings the offering of your being, which is love. It is but a servant of the higher intelligence of truth. In general, demons are many, and angels are but a few.

.

~~~

Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Carmen Delaco (born 1976)

~~~

.

Website:
– Carmen Delaco (WikiArt)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

.

Apocalypse

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘Traditional bhavachakra wall mural’ – By Wonderlane (Sakya Monastery of Seattle) – Wikimedia

There is a beautiful and meaningful contrast in Buddhism. It is to be found in the approach to impermanence (‘anicca’), which can be a very effective pathway to our true nature. It says: everything that passes away is not it, is not you. Notice everything in and around you, and see that it won’t be always here. The house where you live will be destroyed, and no objects you possess will stay forever, including your body, and the billions of other bodies, including the trees, the seas, the mountains, the air you breathe. Eventually, they will all go. Your thoughts, emotions, qualities, character, mind, that you think characterise you, well… The planets will wither too, the suns will die down, and space even may one day be swallowed back where it once was seemingly born.

Scan your experience and try to find something that doesn’t pass away. But go far enough. For then will come, like a new dawn, the revelation that there is something here that never passes away. There is a permanence, a nature, that is your very being, which will never not be, and which swallows in its own profound nature all things discovered to be devoid of their own independent natures. So in the end, nothing really passes away, for all the separate objects of your experience do not possess their own individual, separate nature, which could be considered impermanent. Impermanence is when you think you are a body. But in fact, permanence is all there is, and it is lived and seen as the one being that we truly are.

With this understanding, you will come to realise that your suffering also cannot stand the revelation of your completeness. What you called ‘suffering’ can only exist in the belief that all objects have their own separate existence. Believing yourself to be one such separate object, you find yourself to be incomplete, not enough, therefore seeking in objects your happiness or completeness, which you could of course never find. You started with a wrong view in mind, which made everything down the line unsatisfactory, and biased. That’s why the Buddhist term for suffering ´dukkha’ has the meaning of an ‘unstable stand’, or more poetically, the ‘badly fitting axle-hole of a cart or chariot’ giving ‘a very bumpy ride’. So what then? Suffering never actually existed? Was it all in our mind? Created by a simple belief, an ill-fitting understanding, a shaky representation, that rendered our world unstable, untrue?

In Buddhism, the positive is never named. What is is never mentioned. That’s why it is said that our existence bears the three qualities of ‘impermanence’, ‘suffering’, and ‘no-self’. You will never find a self in something that it always in movement, always changing. No self in things, no self in a thought, no self in a body, no self in you — this is how far it goes. There is no self inside your body-mind. There cannot be. This is logic. No phenomenon could ever hosts a self. There is ‘no self-existent essence’, as suggests the Buddhist term ‘anattā’. Essence cannot just exist. It would make it appear or disappear. The essence of all things, including your own self, is infinite, not limited, not bound to any phenomenon. So ‘no-self’ in Buddhism is only a strategy for you to realise that the only self in presence is the nature or being of all things and selves, which we are, but cannot comprehend or even name. This is what the wisdom of Buddhism has put in practice in such an eloquent and radical way. Not even a name are you given for your own being. The nameless, you can only be.

So the ‘three marks of existence’ of Buddhism are nothing but the story of an apocalypse. ‘Impermanence’, ‘suffering’, and ‘no-self’, may give you a rather apocalyptic vision of your existence. But this is only if you have forgotten that the word ‘apocalypse’ means in fact ‘revelation’. The apocalyptic picture of our existence in this world is used as a wake-up call to push us into the revelation of our true nature as being. It is all about strategy. Do not take religious teachings to be the real thing. They are but teachings that point to a deeper, unnameable truth — the turning around of an apocalypse into the revelation of our true being.

.

~~~

Text by Alain Joly

Photo of ‘bhavachakra’ mural by Wonderlane

~~~

.

Website:
– Three Marks of Existence (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
– Other ‘Reveries’ from the blog…

.

Our Only Landscape

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘An Autumn Landscape with a view of Het Steen’ – Peter Paul Rubens – WikiArt

We are always wandering about, always attracted by a thousand things. Falling for every passing experience. Looking for the fleeting promise it might carry. The reason is: we are so vulnerable to happiness. We want it above all else, at all cost. We know we deserve it, that it is our due, that it is natural, in the order of things, to be happy, rested, at peace. So our mind is never still. Seeking to obtain it. Longing to have it given. Working for it relentlessly. Sometime pretending to be happy if necessary. If it is what it takes. After all, this is the game we are being asked to play. This is our fate, that we have accepted as the norm, and to which we have complied and have been a slave. We would do anything to feel alive, contented, our heart full, our mind at peace, secure, on top of things. And we feel depressed when being turned down. Lost and disheartened at every bout of despair or suffering.

But maybe it is all an unfortunate misunderstanding. Maybe we have taken a wrong turn, and were embarked in our own forgetfulness, distracted by the general consensus. Maybe there is no need to wander about. Maybe experience is of no need to us for happiness. Maybe happiness is not found in experience, not in the least. Maybe working for it creates a distance, a gap, throwing it far and away, like something never reached, never quite here. Maybe hoping for it makes us a self, an illusory entity that needs to obtain peace through the satisfaction given by objects, events, favourable circumstances, which makes us dependent and fearful. What an irony it would be, if it were just this, just this misunderstanding, and that happiness was in fact right here, already spread in and as our sense of being, offered to us with a ruban — a gift eternal for our simply being here and now. How clumsy on our part, to have looked away from ourself for that which is not only in ourself, but our very own self itself. How foolish it all was.

So, this is how it is! We are already fixed in our being, which is peace, which is joy, and have been so all along. We have missed that: that this was our belonging, our identity, to be at peace, firm, stable, fastened, secure in our simply being. And that this simply being was enough, the completion we were after, what we thought was to be earned at the very end of a deceitful string of efforts. Adding to simply being is where we made the mistake, where the wrong turn was taken. We had to stay where we were, and simply notice where we actually were, and what we in fact truly were. Being was not a little thing, undeserving of attention. Being was the completion, everything: you, happiness, peace, experience, the world, all gathered in and as the simple experience of only being. That’s how you lose all wandering, all attraction to things, exchanging them for the one only attraction worth falling for, which is yourself. You have to fall for yourself, for your being. You have to let being embrace you, and swallow you. Then, you won’t have to be anything, won’t have to look for something or someone other than yourself. For you are the fact of being, and this in itself is all the landscape you will ever need and find yourself in.

.

~~~

Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640)

~~~

.

Website:
– Peter Paul Rubens (Wikipedia)

Suggestion:
Other ‘Ways of Being’ from the blog…

.

The Intimacy of Experience

Posted on by Alain Joly
‘First Leaves, near Nantes’ – Camille Corot, 1855 – WikiArt

.
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.

[…]

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

.