Hidden Vastness

‘The Monk by the Sea’ – Caspar David Friedrich, 1808-10 – WikiArt

Infiltrated with your experience is hidden a vastness. Don’t let it be unseen, a thing lost, blind to itself, and yourself mistaken with merely a few passing sensations and some thoughts erring with little purpose. You’ve got to notice, just notice, quietly, almost inadvertently, that most of your experience consists of a shy, unassuming, happy presence that stands behind every single occurrence that proceeds proudly in and as your experience. That shy being is not to be missed or snubbed. That background blessing is of utmost importance in your life. It is everything to you, although you may not know it. So you’ve got to thin your experience out, and not let it be so loud, so invasive — maybe snub it for a while, to make it transparent to what is saturating it. This shy presence is in fact yourself wanting to be truly seen. It is yourself pushing the boundaries of experience, to befriend you. It is your lover who seeks to seduce you, and that you push away every time you give objective experience this undue, primary importance. So be attentive, sensitive to the discreet manifestation of presence. Don’t be so rude for once.

Let presence reveal its shining, pervading nature. See every appearance through. Notice the presence of your self through and behind every experience that forms before your eyes. You’ve got to give yourself all the attention you deserve, to see that you are everywhere, all at once, and that you in fact pervade the world. And the more you see yourself as you are, the more interesting will the world become to you. You will be in love with your fellow humans and with the world, and that love is nothing but the presence of your self pervading every experience, being one with it. To love is to witness the disappearance of your old, limited, worn out sense of self, and the discovery of a limitless, incorruptible, astounding self. A self with no substance, yet highly substantial, highly present, overwhelmingly so. A self that is the very hum of the world, and its vibrating essence. A self that is but the simple feeling of being when it is disengaged from the filter of experience. A self that is fresh, untamed, vibrant with its own innate innocence. So learn to simply be, in spite of all your so tantalising experiences. Life is solely composed of this one, single, ravishing experience of being. Stay firm with that fact.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Caspar David Friedrich (1774–1840)

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Websites:
Caspar David Friedrich (Wikipedia)
The Monk by the Sea (Wikipedia)

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Unto the Ages of Ages

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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Suggestion:
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The Harvest of Understanding

‘Harvest’ – Zinaida Serebriakova, 1910 – WikiArt

There is a time to retire into yourself. There, is a cavern of knowing and being that was left unexplored, silenced, unable to adorn your life with its presence. This hide is where peace resides, and where life finds its shine and gold. It wasn’t kept secret. Only you needed to abandon an erroneous idea about yourself that had been polished with centuries of conditioning, so that took a little probing. Finally this cavern of being is met with the light of your understanding. And this light is discovered to recede yet another jewel. Happiness. The gentle peace of living, made beauty when your eyes embrace the world, and rendered as love in the company of another being. It is a simple realisation — rare enough I concede — but nevertheless within reasonable reach for whoever is willing to give his or her heart to it. Now the story doesn’t quite end there. For you will be tempted to indulge in your new discovery. The comfort of your newly found home is mesmerising, and you will be drawn to keep yourself cozy in the embrace of your own being. And it is fine, even necessary to a certain point. You need to get accustomed to the new light of your being. But then is when you should finally be kicked out…

There is a time for knowing, and a time to make a harvest out of it. There is a time to equate pure being with the world, to feel it as yourself, to make the transfer, enjoy the catch, go beyond the riddle. This is ultimate realisation. Don’t forget to transform the knowing of your own being into the pure delight and intelligence of being a luminous self in an enlightened world. Be the human that you were meant to be, that you had wanted to be all your life. In fact, we were never given a chance to be a true human. We have been one in the waiting. Only in and as God’s presence can you be made a true human being, an accomplished, apparent individual. One that is so, not for its objective qualities, but in reason of its sublime subjectivity. It is not an impossible attainment. It is here, now, just as you are, no matter the life you happen to have, or the person you believe yourself to be. Make your life proud of itself. Register that your self is gorgeous. Not just the light of pure being that you are of all eternity, but also that very body-mind, here, in this world. I think it is important to live as if. To be again just a human living in a world. Not to keep re-enacting unceasingly the realisation of your identity as pure being. Be yourself a living meditation. Let your life take the fresh wind of true being into a living practice. Give god a chance to wear the clothes of your human experience. Don’t forget the old Zen saying, “In the beginning, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers; later on, mountains are not mountains and rivers are not rivers; and still later, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers.”

There is a hidden reward concealed in experiencing the humility contained in being just a human in the world. This is how you will feel truly. This is how you will love sweetly, and register beauty beyond understanding. This is how you experience true relationship with others. This is how any moment can become a thrilling new adventure, never to be repeated again. And this is how you will come to experience the special grace contained in thinking and feeling, in having a body, in living in a world. The best wine is only so because of the exquisiteness of its taste. Drink life, drink love, through every pores of your body, through every windows of your feelings and perceptions. Experience it from a promontory freed from the constraint of beliefs. Choose love over wisdom. Your understanding will grow exponentially out of this second incarnation. God hasn’t done all this tiresome work of bodies and world if it wasn’t to build a beautiful home for you to live in. Engage your being in every aspect of your experience. Don’t leave the world aside. Yes, the world is often ugly, ridden with conflict and every kind of suffering, degraded, and often a dangerous place to be. But it may well turn out to be our paradise, if we upgrade it with and as the presence of our true self. It is not a selfish thing to enjoy. It is in fact a selfless act to be a servant of peaceful being. And remember that wherever you are and act can be a haven for everything and everyone coming in your echo chamber. For being attracts being. Be yourself a haven of life. Incarnate the teaching that was passed on to you — that’s how you pass it on to others. Make it a thing. Reap the enjoyment of it. Feel your participation in the world. Let your human experience be soaked with being. Make god resplendent.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Zinaida Serebriakova (1884-1967)

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Website:
Zinaida Serebriakova (Wikipedia)

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On Passing Away

We think that most of our life is taking place in the field of body, thoughts, feelings, and sense perceptions — all of these making a self and a world, and the myriads of experiences that come as a result. This is what our life seems to be for the most part. But look again. Because in fact, no. It is not like this. That’s where the misunderstanding lies. Most of our human experience — not to say the whole of it — is spent in being. In emptiness. In vastness. Of course there is a body here that can be sensed. And feelings can be felt. And objects perceived. And thoughts are occurring all the time. And with them a sense of a separate self has been born. And all this joyous team seems to have acquired reality, and has in consequence been cursed with a measure of drama and suffering. But much was missed along the way. For in fact, none of these really took the place we imagined. None of it is taking any place, any space, or occupying any length of time. For the whole space of experience is already occupied by our sense of being. Life in its totality is made of one indivisible reality that fills our experience to the brim. This reality as being precedes experience — experience being nothing but being manifesting itself within itself.

So this is an announcement for the deceased self that we have been engrossed in all this time. Body, thoughts, feelings, senses, will continue their existence, but will lose their identity as a self. Custody will be returned to whom it always and forever belonged: pure, unlimited being. In its quality of the only inheritor of the feeling of being, ‘I’ or consciousness is now made the one true identity for all selves, and the only essence or ‘is-ness’ for all objects of experience. For we are in fact eternity, which our presence as a time-bound self has veiled. We are in truth the infinity of being, which our insistance in being a separate being has limited. And we are in reality peace itself, which our relentless seeking for happiness has sent in the hidden. There never was a self, and there never was a world. Not in the way we have imagined it. Not with the reality we have conferred to them. Being has drowned them long ago; and has given them the only reality to which they are entitled to belong. That’s how anyone, and anything, and any experience can be made to rest in peace: In giving in to being. In passing away.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Isn’t Life a Simple Thing?

We as an apparent body and mind are nothing but the conditions met for the apparition of a world and all the resulting experiences that take place within it. We are simply housing the thoughts, feelings, and sense perceptions necessary to enact experience, and give it a shine of reality. But the essential of what we are is neither in thoughts, nor in feelings, nor in sense perceptions. The essential of a mind is made of consciousness. Awareness is its structure and its backbone, without which there would be nothing left. If it wasn’t for its awaring quality, our mind would be no mind. Our thoughts would crumble and disappear to never reappear. Our feelings and sensations would suddenly blacken and decay in an instant, to be never formed again. And the world would be swallowed back into infinity, if it wasn’t for the consciousness that gave it its essence and knowability. Look as you may, you won’t find a mind of your own anywhere. At best, just a few scattered thoughts, and the momentary and illusory appearance of a self.

Observe carefully. A few thoughts can never make a mind; and neither could some random feelings. You couldn’t own the necessary self that you need to function in a world, without some inseparable and indispensable measure of knowing. So it is all about knowing. It is all about being conscious. Awareness holds it all together — your body; your thoughts and feelings; your world as sense perceptions. All of these come into existence at the only condition that an ‘awareness’ is present. If awareness goes, you go. If consciousness goes, everything with you go. The world goes. No bodies viable. No flower fields. No Milky Way. Everything falling apart. Universe shut black. Just a mess! That’s the power of consciousness! Far from being a mere function of the body, awareness is what holds the body and the world together. It is the essence of everything. It is the indispensable matrix. It is the ocean in which the waves and currents of thoughts, sensations, and world are dancing. And it has no home where to rest but itself. In fact, it is itself a resting place for all apparent minds, bodies, things, selves that make up a world. Consciousness gives existence with its being, allows relationship with its knowing faculty, and brings the consolidation of happiness with its loving nature. Then it returns into itself and stays there, in utter peace and completeness — replete with itself. And when you have seen it all as it is, and yourself as you are — indivisible being — then might come simply a swell of awe. God, isn’t life a simple thing?

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Tainted Self

Sometime, presence is eluding you. It hides, and you are left with nothing but your old tainted self. These are the sad days. When thoughts have invaded your being and replaced it with ideas and concepts about your self. When feelings have plagued that gorgeous presence which is you, and have contaminated it with worries and rage. When you are caught and find yourself being something and someone, some kind of hard entity that you cannot forget and shake off yourself. That’s when your beautiful, empty being is tiptoeing where it never left and waiting for better days. That’s when you cannot help yourself seeing a world in front of you. That’s when objects have filled your world and animate it with all the inbuilt suffering they imply. Oneness has been choked by them, and has retreated. It won’t fight its way back. It won’t raise a finger for itself. After all, does the sun need to fight for its own light? Is the sun the least bothered when a layer of clouds has formed? No. The sun will continue doing what a sun does. It will illuminate the clouds, sculpting their gorgeous forms, painting them in all shades of whites. The sun illuminates as surely as awareness makes your thoughts and feelings knowable. That’s how you can judge yourself to be anything. An old, tainted, worrisome, raging, hard, stubborn self. That’s how you can know that. Because of your presence. Because of its knowing, illuminating talent. That’s it. That’s what you are. That obvious, inescapable luminosity that is the only thing in presence. The only you in presence. The only presence. And in no time will you then have a clear sky. With no clouds around. No tainted self. And worries blown up. Rage pacified. That’s when the thoughts about yourself are tiptoeing in the empty space where they have come to form themselves. That’s when your feelings are being chased by the wind of knowing, melted by the warm and pure air of being, where you are discovered to be no self. And that’s how you make the thousands objects of your world retreat into oneness. And you are left alone. Here. Now. Sweet and whole. A presence never tainted. Never eluded.

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Text and photo by Alain Joly

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Anything at All

‘Fenêtre ouverte sur la Seine’ – Pierre Bonnard, 1911 – Wikipedia

Isn’t it humbling to realise that whatever experience you or anybody may have, whatever experience there is anywhere, anyhow, from any thing, at any time, in any dimension of life, will come down to being just this, this pure and impersonal sense of being that is the source and essence of all selves and things. You may live a child’s experience deep in the Amazon forest or a tree standing proudly in the Californian air. You may be a woman or a man in Paris, Kathmandu, or a lost, forgotten village in Greenland. You may live rich and imbued with yourself or excruciatingly poor, sleeping on a pavement somewhere, forgotten from all. You may be an ant living the life of an ant, in a scrumptious colony of fellow ants, or a dignified elephant leading the herd, the matriarch in her world. You may be an expression of utmost violence or anger, or lingering in total peace and appreciation of the world. Or an energetic horse running in the morning dew, or a distant owl hooting quietly before falling asleep. Or maybe a wave crashing in the ocean, or a whale flapping the water, or a little anchovy swimming in the big silver mass of its shoal. Or a soaring eagle, or any wild flower of any wild mountain meadow, or that heavy stone there, resting in a river bed. Or the lamp at your bedside. You may be anything that stands, sits, lies, flies, swims, exists, loves, suffers, ages or dies. You may be the majestic suns and planets of the universe dancing around, following their laws and trajectories. You may be god himself, or the goddess herself. The thousands and thousands expressions of devotion towards the divine, any human being lost in prayer. You may be just a thought. One word ushered at a lover’s ear. Or a gentle wind. Or a wonder. Or a tear. Or a sigh. Or nothing at all. A dream. Empty space. Anything. You may be anything at all. — And this is eternity. And the infinite is at your door. Here. Now. Love expressing itself. Being being ignited. Sameness. God’s presence felt.

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Text by Alain Joly

Painting by Pierre Bonnard (1867-1947)

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Website:
Pierre Bonnard (Wikipedia)

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