Truth Love Beauty, page 2
The status of the body-mind has been downgraded from “this” to “that” and what he experiences as “I” has been upgraded from body-mind to witnessing presence. This understanding has already given him a sense of freedom.
In the second step he is told, “This witnessing presence, because it is no longer attached to the body-mind, is impersonal. The body-mind is personal, and has limitations, but at this level where you are now, there are no longer any limitations. Since this witnessing presence is not in any way an object, it is not subject to limitations. Now you can be open to the possibility that this witnessing presence, which you now know yourself to be, is unlimited. See that there is no valid reason to believe that this witnessing presence is personal, rather than universal.” At that moment, when he goes to it, he goes to it naked, without any superimposition of something personal or limited, and he realizes his true nature. He finds his freedom.
Going back, the world of objects is still present and the objects still seem to be separate. In the third step he’s told, “Since this presence is universal and not personal, and since the objects arise in it, exist in it, and vanish back into it, they must be made out of it. This presence is that which you find at your very core, which is your substance. Your substance is the substance of the universe; your experience is the experience of the universe.” Since presence or consciousness is the substance of the universe, he’s now open to seeing all beings and everything else that arises as being made of consciousness.
There is no more separation: no more a “this” and a “that,” a witness and a witnessed. This duality was just a pedagogical step, which temporarily recognized a distinction between this and that, the observer and the observed. It had the advantage of temporarily granting validity to the point of view that arises in ignorance. That familiar viewpoint is then used to liberate him from his ignorance.
When someone says that they are one with an object, a tree, for example, or a fox, is that any different from knowingness knowing itself, consciousness being aware of itself?
You can have access to the experience of consciousness being aware of itself by taking the thought, “What am I?” or the thought of consciousness without an object. But still there might be residual patterns and contractions in the body that prevent you from having access to this experience in the presence of thoughts, bodily sensations, or sense perceptions. We want to be so well established in our true nature that no thought, no sensation, no perception of an external object, can take us away.
So how does that relate to feelings of oneness with objects, a fox, for example?
That oneness doesn’t have to be worked out or thought through; it is an immediate experience. A clear mind is a mind that is free from any concept or belief system that relates to a personal entity; similarly, a transparent body is a body that is free from any feeling system that would create the notion of a person being here. It is a body which is completely open, so that when an object arises in experience, a fox, for example, you don’t have to think about it. It is immediate; the fox is here, in you. You are no longer located in the body because there is nothing left in the body with which you could identify. You are everywhere, and everything is in you. There is no difference between you and what arises in you. You are expanded, and you become this expansion.
The particular point of view from this mind is just one of your favorite viewpoints. Thoughts can still arise. You might think, “What a nice little fox,” but there are no problems, there is no fear, there is no desire, there is no psychology.
It should be remembered that the experience of the observer becoming the observed relates to the realm of perceptions in time, and that the experience of being conscious is prior to the experience of diversity. There can be no diversity without consciousness but there can be consciousness without diversity.
***
You have suggested that we try living as if the “me” and the “not me” were not separate, and also that we fall in love with the now. Both of these recommendations seem to imply that we have some control over how we live, that we have some control over our thoughts and our actions. Is that what you imply?
When I say things like that I’m not talking to the person, the body-mind; I’m talking to the consciousness which understands, which is alive and free. If what I say goes past the person to consciousness itself, it means that there is understanding, and at that moment a transformation takes place. It is not that we have to do something, it is simply that something takes place when there is understanding.
Then my next question is, “Do we live our lives or are our lives lived by a divine consciousness?”
We are the divine consciousness that lives our lives. There are not two consciousnesses. This very ordinary consciousness, hearing these words right this moment, and understanding them, happens to be also the divine consciousness that lives all lives. There is not a separate entity in the cosmos. The mystery, the magic of it, is that this consciousness that seems so ordinary, that we take for granted, even as far as denying its existence, happens to be the consciousness of the universe itself, the true center of the universe. It could be said that the universe has no center, or equally that any point of the universe is the center of the universe, but the true center is consciousness. So everything changes, comes and goes, is born and dies, but consciousness or presence is always itself. We are not going to go there at some point in the future—as presence we are already there.
***
When I hear this, part of me becomes excited and I experience a sense of freedom and relief, but there is another part of me that becomes disappointed. I’m trying to figure out what the source of that disappointment is. My mother died recently and I have been thinking of connecting with her on the spirit level, but when I hold the idea that we are all consciousness, I see no possibility of connection and no relief to my sense of loss.
The love that she gave you was the best of her and is still with you in your heart; only the packaging is no longer with you. You are weeping because you have lost the packaging. We weep because we have been accustomed to receiving the gift of love through a certain kind of packaging, but we have to become an adult and reach the point where we understand that this gift of love has never stopped, that love keeps giving itself with all kinds of shapes and colors of packaging. We have to learn how to open all the packages. What you loved in your mother was love itself; what she loved in you was love itself, and that is always present. Her image takes you to the sweetness and the sweetness takes you to love and consciousness, but the image by itself is not love and consciousness, because the image is simply a part of the packaging. In this way you are always, deep down, in contact with the love that she has given you. When you give love, it’s forever. And when you receive love, that’s also forever. When we lose loved ones, or when we are temporarily separated from them, we can always contact them in the heart. We can contact what matters—the essence. The rest vanishes. Just by thinking or speaking of them, we can evoke them, which means that there is still a connection with the presence.
How can I really know that there is only one consciousness? Intuitively it feels that way but I can’t go any further than that.
The mind has been attached to the belief that consciousness is separate, as if it could know. The first thing is to see clearly, once and for all, that the mind will never know directly whether consciousness is separate or not, because the mind has no direct access to consciousness. However there is, for the mind, an indirect way to know. This is by being open to the possibility that consciousness is not separate. To the mind, consciousness is invisible. Imagine you are playing tennis with God, with God being invisible. You play, you serve, and you receive a fantastic return, just on the line. Then you serve again, giving it everything you’ve got, and you receive another great return, cross-court. You say, “Wow, it’s invisible, but what a backhand!”
So the mind knows God by its shots. You serve poorly when you play from the assumption that you are a person. You serve well when you are open to the possibility that God is over there, just behind the line. Once you’ve served, you see what kind of return you get from the universe. From the vantage point of the mind you will never be able to conclude, positively, that you have seen God, but the mind can see the balls. The mind may draw a conclusion, but it is not healthy for the mind to draw conclusions, and anyway it’s useless. It’s better just to keep playing. The bad news is that God is invisible; the good news is that you are that.
In a way, when you ask a question, you serve. I’m not saying that Francis is God, you must understand that. But when you ask a question, you serve the ball and then watch how it is returned.
So that’s as far as the mind can go, the rest belongs to intuition?
Whatever we call it doesn’t matter, but usually intuition refers to something that is an instantaneous apperception, something that crystallizes out of thin air. But there is also a sustained quality of well-being, of presence, of love, of happiness, of celebration. We can call it “the perfume.” One way to play this tennis game is by not seeing anything outside of oneself. As long as we think that the old way of seeing oneself as a separate body facing a separate universe is the only valid way of seeing, then we will stick to that way of seeing. But once we have reviewed the evidence, using all of our intelligence, and come to the conclusion that both views of the world are equally valid, then we can stick to the other view for a while. That’s the way to play tennis. We’ll see that this is the way to serve well, and then we’ll see what kind of returns we get.
So with both views valid, it’s playing from both places at the same time?
No, you have to choose one or the other. You have to choose either to serve poorly or to serve well. God is a good player and She hates it if you serve poorly. You can tell how the game is going. If it feels playful it means that God is not getting bored and She wants to continue the game; if it becomes boring it means that God is getting bored—not a good development. The mind can never see God but can see Her response, which has a quality that stills the mind. The mind can be in agreement with it and feel the truth and the goodness of it. Such is the harmony of God’s response that eventually the mind finds itself bowing before it. At this point, when the mind bows before the manifestation of grace, the recognition takes place—consciousness knows itself.
***
When you said “body/mind/world” yesterday, that was a great revelation. I’ve begun to call it “BMW.” When I heard it I thought, “Yes, of course, it’s all one!” Previously I had always thought that the body-mind was one thing and the world was another. Then this morning you encouraged us to feel our bodies as boundaryless. That seems to be the same thing.
Exactly.
So the mind and the body need to be in agreement in perceiving the unity, in understanding that the boundaries are fictions.
In the Western tradition there is a triumvirate: truth, love, and beauty. How should we understand this from the viewpoint of beauty and love?
Truth is revealed when you approach the absolute through thoughts; love is revealed when you approach the absolute through feelings; beauty is revealed when you approach the absolute through the senses. To experience beauty we need to be free from this localization in the body. A true work of art is an object that has the power to liberate us, at least temporarily, from this localization. It is a sensorial object, which is perceived through the senses. It is not an internal object such as a form of feeling or an imagined image.
There are two kinds of art objects: those made by man, and those made by God, for example, beautiful landscapes and sunsets. Ultimately, of course, they are all made by God because a true art object comes from divine inspiration and the artist is simply God’s vehicle. In fact, it is precisely because the true art object has this divine origin that it is able to take us back to the divine. It is because we recognize its divinity that we are attracted beyond the usual boundaries of the body—an attraction so strong that the usual boundaries are overwhelmed.
Some people might be attracted to works of art or music, while others are drawn to beauty in nature, that which is directly made by God.
The main problem that we face when we try to have the experience of beauty is our intention. As long as there is an intention to experience beauty the mind is focusing, and is still in “doingness.” Most museum-goers don’t really see works of art—they just exercise their legs. Or, if they are single, they increase their chances of meeting a more refined and sensitive person of the opposite sex. But I went off on a tangent. The point that I really want to make is that if, when we contemplate a work of art, we have the intention of experiencing beauty, of experiencing God, this very intention gets in the way.
The best way to approach a work of art is to stand in front of it without grasping it—what we usually try to do. Only an object can be grasped. Some people are very knowledgeable about art. They grasp the life of the artist, all the biographical details such as how miserable or how happy he was, how many children he had, how he died, and so on. Others grasp the technique. But to have the experience of beauty, of God, we have to let go of all such grasping and give the work of art time to speak to us. We approach it with care and respect.
If, for example, we wish to enter into a masterpiece by one of the great masters we need to be patient and not try to squeeze it in to a busy schedule. We wait in a meditative fashion and allow the painting to reveal itself. These masterworks, because they come from an intuition of truth, have a tremendous amount of meaning to deliver. We can see them many times, and, no matter how many times we see them, they always deliver something new. It is like reading the sayings of a sage; no matter how many times we read such a book, it is new every time.
A true work of art amazes you every time by leading you to beauty through a surprising angle. On the other hand, it is possible to become saturated. For example, if you listen to a symphony over and over again, your listening will degenerate into habit. If you leave it alone for a while and then return to it, your ears will be refreshed, and you will discover new beauty.
The same applies to a book about God. If you read it ten times in a row it will seem that you have drained it of every last drop of meaning, but if you put it aside for a year, you will rediscover it as an entirely new book.
I can see that you have to approach paintings in a meditative fashion but you have to make a conscious decision to go to the museum and look at them. With nature, however, it often happens that I will be deeply absorbed in something else and suddenly find myself overwhelmed by the beauty of nature around me.
But it is the same with painting and with music; you have to allow the work of art to come to you, all that is required on your part is be open. It takes a certain amount of time for it to reveal itself because the mind works in a serial fashion, one item after another, and the general picture is not revealed until a certain number of the components have been put together. It often happens that the meaning of a poem is not revealed until the last line.
Does it follow, from what you have been saying, that all literary criticism is useless?
Usually I would say that ninety-nine percent of artistic criticism is useless but with regard to modern literary criticism I would have to raise the percentage, although there are exceptions. I’m not familiar with English literature but there are two French critics, René Hughe and André Malroux, who have written about art in interesting and positive ways. Both of these men had a sense of presence. As far as I know they were not religious but they had a sense of the sacred which is deeper than conventional religion. Beauty is connected with love. I would say that beauty is the exterior of love and love is the interior of beauty. When there ceases to be a separation between the body and the world, then that which used to be external is beauty, and that which used to be internal is love.
Love is inclusion. When the body becomes as big as the universe, when it becomes a welcoming which embraces all beings, love is manifest. And when the universe becomes what we are, beauty is manifest. When we perceive a feeling in this expansion, and this feeling is free from limits, that is love. And when we perceive a sense perception in this expansion, and the sense perception has no boundaries, that is beauty. A true work of art has the effect, at least temporarily, of dissolving the boundaries.
Before the Big Bang
I’ve heard you advise people not to act out of fear and desire, and at other times I’ve heard you recommend that we follow our bliss. Can you clarify this?
“Following your bliss” is in the now. “Acting out of desire” relates to the future. When you follow your bliss you are accepting the current circumstances and possibilities. When you are in a state of desiring, reality is not good enough for you. When you accept the totality of the situation and then follow your bliss, you are allowing the situation to develop on its own without imposing your will as a person. You are a gardener who does no pruning and allows the plants to grow naturally. There is no fear; whereas, if you desire something, you fear you’re not going to get it.
There can be a goal in following your bliss and it may look like a desire. It is not a desire if the happiness is already present at the beginning of the path which leads to the attainment of the goal, and if ultimately it doesn’t really matter if the goal is reached or not. Indeed the goal may change along the way. The outcome is not as important as the action itself. The joyfulness is at the beginning of the action not at the end.
So, in following your bliss you’re already in your bliss; you’re just continuing with it.


