Being with what is...

 

 

The following is a transcription of extracts from lectures given by Thierry in April 2004 in Cavaillon, Grenoble , Dijon and Paris (France).

The text below has been kept in its original, spoken format.

A double audio CD has been created from the full version of these recordings.

 

 

 

This evening, I propose we take a particular look at the spiritual quest.

Spiritual quest as a possible flight from the self.

At the root of the quest, there is a need to improve, maybe even become someone else, reach a state of grace or some other particular state. In order to achieve these aims, the spiritual seeker, as we’ll call him or her this evening, uses tools.

We’re all familiar with these tools: meditation, rituals, courses as well as our beliefs, certainties and practices which come in all shapes and sizes.

All these things form screens to the reality which spiritual seekers claim to be looking for.

Because, in fact, the reality is present right here, right now.

Spiritual approaches set up a distance with this immediate reality.

We could say that the practices and methods he adopts place the seeker outside of himself.

In fact, it is less the methods in themselves that I denounce this evening than what the spiritual seeker has  made of them. This eccentric quest -in the literal sense of the word, removed from the center- has finally stifled any real possibility of encountering the self. The seeker’s spiritual ambition has quenched the simplicity of being, the true hope which lies at the root of all these quests.

What we shall be seeing is that at the beginning of this flight from the self, there is a fear, a fundamental terror with which it is impossible to negotiate.

If the words I shall be using this evening to designate this fear which is at the root of flight are received on a mental plane, they will be powerless. But it’s possible to take a look at the origins of our quests, as I invite you to do now, if you can see that this look also brings with it an encounter which is the true fruit of all our searches and disorganized approaches.

I’m aware of the fact that this look may seem a little destructive to begin with, but I invite you to accept it because I think it will be salutary, despite the scaffolding that will collapse as a result.

Fear, therefore, is at the beginning of the spiritual quest.

It’s now interesting to see how all the artful tricks created on this basis, and which we rarely question, have become solidified in a mass, to the extent that any meeting with what is, right here, right now, with what is aroused in one’s self at this moment, has become unacceptable; how the ingenious devices of the spiritual quest have led the seeker to determine that some of the things that are aroused within him are not reasonably spiritual and how, consequently, the goal of the spiritual quest has become removed from the self, from the living center that makes us what we are, and has been redirected towards a mythical destination.

From the moment an aim is created, whether it be to obtain power, sex, money or spiritual awakening, we are in an approach that risks estranging us from our natural condition, from the simplicity of being which is the real fruit and true aspiration of our spiritual quest.

This is why we may note that today a good many spiritual seekers have the feeling of going round in circles. What they’re going round in fact is themselves.

The encounter with the self is achieved without recourse to controlling or mastering things. But the spiritual seeker likes his paths to be clearly marked out. He likes to have an idea about where he’s going. The idea of an encounter with the self, a spiritual accomplishment which would give rise to joy, happiness and well-being, and whose stages are clearly signposted… This idea comes from the seeker. It’s a seeker production.

And it is fear which sparks the desire to master the situation.

The term "mastering" is, indeed, a commonly used term in spiritual circles. Instead of really committing himself to an encounter, the seeker creates a fresh destination on a more distant horizon, that is simply an extension of his flight. And he does so in order to materialize his fantasies and conserve his mistaken objectives for as long as he wants.

I think that the meeting this evening provides us with a possibility to directly experience this flight as well as an opportunity to home back on ourselves.

We’re going to do it in a lively way because, although everything may be intellectually comprehensible and maybe acceptable for many of you, flight remains a natural activity for the seeker, neatly camouflaged in his invisible automatic reflexes, even for those who are attentive.

If we look at the spiritual seeker’s reflexes and protections, that’s to say all the screens which prevent the encounter with the self, this is bound to cause a bit of a shake-up. So you must prepare yourselves for feelings of tension and irritation.

If you feel tense, this is a new possibility for you. You can "be with" this tension, in yourself, rather than try to find a solution to it by designating someone who is responsible for it or looking for relief here, there and everywhere.

The seeker always avoids something, and this something is himself. This "himself" is often unacceptable. This evening, we shall be focusing on the unacceptable.

When I speak of the self, here, I’m neither using a capital nor small "s", because these are only prefabricated terms of the reality of the self. The only reality at any given moment in time is what is aroused, right here, right now. The fundamental spiritual complication is to position screens and protections that hide this immediate reality. And so we’re going to be careful not to use spiritual commonplaces and all the formulas we know by heart and have adopted to the extent that we take them for spiritual accomplishments. Words, of course, are only words which can point in a certain direction but they are not the direction they show.

Certain spiritual schools are past-masters in presenting intellectual adherence as a spiritual accomplishment.

The real goal of the spiritual quest is drowned by words.

Now, a simple question will enable us to observe how remote we are from ourselves. The space which may be created between the moment the question is asked and that when an answer is given represents, more or less, how remote we are from ourselves. It’s a question I’m going to ask one of you, so as to determine our ability to be in direct relation with what is, right here, right now. The question is:

 

"Can you tell me what you’re feeling at this moment in time?"

 

Answer: "I feel life."

 

A little while ago, you expressed a frustration which said: I often get angry. I’m in a race and I want out. That was a few minutes ago. The experience was a little unpleasant, but it was vibrant. And my question seems to have made all that disappear. I’m not saying the life you speak of doesn’t exist but that this more pleasant thing that you highlight may, at this moment, make it possible to avoid the only reality that is, and which you doubtless feel is unpleasant. This image of the life within you is apparently a screen.

The seeker tries to get around what is being aroused here and now. Just now you intellectually understood the concept of flight I was talking about. You’ve just seen it live. My proposal now is: don’t try to get around it any more and try to be with what you usually try to get around, at least for the time of this meeting, rather than try to foster imaginary states. Being with rather than putting up with or avoiding. Being with. When speaking of life, you speak of something which exists within you, but which might not really be alive, particularly if you deny something else. Life isn’t selective. It’s the spiritual seeker who selects and it’s through his spiritual viewpoints and constructions that he sorts the grain from the chaff.

 

Someone else gives a long description of what is happening inside of him.

 

I propose you put three-quarters of what you’ve just said into a word basket and look at the reason why I advise this. What we feel exists beyond words. If we place words on what we feel, three or so will do. When we’re not used to confiding what we feel, particularly in front of witnesses, we become used to commenting on what we feel rather than confiding it. Did you notice? The commentary looks like what has been confided but it’s no longer a transmission of what is felt. It’s a little as if you’d begun going down into yourself, slowly, towards the inner feeling that you brushed up against for a fraction of a second before immediately making your way back up to the surface commentary.

Here, we’re dealing with the essential: being with.

Being with what is, without doing anything with it. At this point in time, naked truth can hold in three or so words. But if it has not been able to be confided, this simply means that the protective mechanism is a well-oiled machine. Sometimes you need a little time to see that it’s in place, and a little bit longer to let go. Looking and confiding are movements of freedom. But the seeker is used to his or her armor and today, in spiritual circles, such a movement is quite rare.  

 

Is it possible to give a meaning to our lives and our experiences?

 

The quest for meaning is one of the forms of the quest. Giving meaning is already a deviation because the reality to which we wish to give meaning is already its own meaning. When we experience or are confronted by something, when something is aroused in us, we’re in direct contact with this something. This something doesn’t ask for a meaning. It’s the spiritual seeker who wants to give it a meaning, meaning being one of the mental images I referred to just now.

 

And where does God fit into all this?

 

The seeker sometimes says he’s searching for God. But if he were honest, he might recognize that he knows nothing of this God image, whereas the only thing about which he could really speak is himself, provided he accepts encountering what is right here, right now. In fact the seeker has a certain awareness of what he is and it’s precisely this which has led him to flee from himself. The God image has become an aim that is above what he sees of himself and he engages in a direction which seems to him to be superior to his day-to-day existence. This is why images are always screens before the real objective of the quest. This quest for God can easily become a screen before all of these things which confront us and which we don’t like.

The seeker’s basic belief is that all these things which are being aroused in him cannot be part of the Divine. The seeker has a preconceived idea of what is part of the Divine, and so, unconsciously, he has paved the way for his quest being pointless. A real encounter with oneself is an encounter which transcends all these images and concepts, even the most subtle, those which have never been questioned – the ideal image of one’s self, an exalted image, is one that is acceptable for the seeker. The truth of what is aroused, right here, right now, in oneself, is unacceptable for the seeker.

And yet here lies the Divine seed.

See how the simple question I asked you can lead to detours. To the question "What are you feeling at this moment in time?" more often than not I’m given an answer that has something to do with the body, or a thought. It is more acceptable to speak of the body or indulge in philosophy than confide a more intimate, more vibrant yet hazier reality. The epiphenomena of thought or bodily movements do not correspond to what is felt, in the way I’m speaking of this evening in any case. I invite you to a look which focuses less on the body, which is not at all in the head with its hotchpotch of spiritual commonplaces, than what is intimately, plainly and soberly felt, at the heart of the here and now. It is a look which may seem demanding because it’s not one we’re used to. The question which directs the spiritual seeker to what is alive right here, right now, makes it possible for you to realize whether you are aware of what is being aroused within you and whether there is a possibility of tranquilly confiding it. And this also enables you to see the distance between the two. Here is a foundation stone on which to build the relationship with oneself and the other.

The essential discovery that the seeker places at the end of his prefabricated spiritual quest is that of self-discovery, a discovery which is neither realized in time or space. It doesn’t happen by crossing space towards a predefined destination, it isn’t achieved by accumulating experiences or knowledge over time. All these things may produce benefits on a certain horizontal plane, the plane on which the seeker likes to feel that he’s making progress. But, after 30 or 40 years of progress, the spiritual seeker is also led to the conclusion that any progress made is on the periphery of a reality that he has not yet explored, that’s to say the reality of the self.

Another problem with the reality of the self is the definition of self which has become an image added to all those things I mentioned previously, all the artful tricks and means of the quest … The way the seeker looks at the reality of the self cuts off short. It’s a reality which seems transcendental, something which is consequently far removed and which requires a particular effort, via meditation or whatever. It requires an effort to achieve it. Thus it is that the meeting with the self is a long, drawn-out road.

In the seeker’s vision, this self is very different from the self with which he is confronted day after day. And, even if unconsciously, he ends up comparing all the time. He compares this transcendental image of the self with the immediate and unacceptable reality with which he is confronted at each moment, with the human condition. For most spiritual seekers today, most things which are aroused in them, particularly emotions, are judged as being spiritually incorrect. The little self is made up of things which are not correct and from which we must flee, and the big Self, which we can access by the road we have made for ourselves, is uncluttered by any of these disturbing things. This is the way the spiritual seeker looks at things. If, when I ask you the question, one of these forms which is judged to be unacceptable crops up, the encounter I’m speaking of will not be possible.

If, as soon as I put my question, something looms up which is out of phase with the ideal or the image of the Self (with a capital "S"), then the seeker zaps onto the plane of these images, on which he comments, or onto the plane of physical sensations. But he refuses to testify to the immediate reality of what he intimately experiences. And since most of these things which are aroused in the self are judged not to be spiritual, flight is practically permanent, regardless of the tools used.

The real encounter can only be made with the here and now. And this is true at all times, even outside this meeting. There is no better moment for meeting the self. It’s true that there are backdrops such as the present one which we are more conducive to being attentive to the self and where we "authorize" ourselves to be so. But such authorization comes from the self. We might think that the lecturer or the atmosphere plays a part in this awakening, and to some extent this is true. But what I have to underline is that this authorization to be with ourselves, to be with what is being aroused right here, right now, stems solely from the self. Similarly when the seeker is lying or protecting himself, he is also creating this reality. At any moment, we can authorize ourselves to be or not to be.

Whether he has created them himself or they have been offered to him, the spiritual seeker takes up the practices and rituals he needs to continue fleeing from himself, to perpetuate the race which has to take him as far away as possible from the reality of the self which is right here, right now.

The aim of the question I asked you just now was to give deeper significance to this meeting which is a form of welcome that contains a promise. A promise which satisfies what originally inspires the quest and exists before the seeker and all his trickery became involved. There is nothing else we were looking for than what is, right here, right now. In other words, the treasure lies at the heart of what is, right here, right now. I’m offering you the possibility for a fruitful encounter, at the very place where your flights take root. Engaging in this encounter certainly means that, to begin with, we’re going to get closer to that primal fear of individuality, that original fear on which everything is built. It’s a fear which was born out of a blunt interpretation, at a moment of our personal existence, a fear which says that the world is a hostile place, that our neighbor is potentially dangerous and that we are alone. When the spiritual quest is founded on this perception of the ego, as is generally the case, the quest can only be false from the word go. In which case, meditation, for example, can serve as a refuge from such a world. It’s possible to construct a system of thought which enables us to be remote from any feeling of self-emptiness or nothingness. Spiritual thoughts form a sort of screen in front of the feeling of emptiness. And yet, we really need to go into what we take as being emptiness.

What I’m proposing does not touch off any spark at a mental level. It’s not something about which you could say: "Let’s see, does his proposition slot in with my system?", because what it implies is the collapse of the system. But I can’t cause this collapse. I can only give an indication as to the direction –that’s to say, right here, right now– of the look and the encounter.

I invite you a purification of the spiritual impetus which may give rise to a fear. I invite you to accept the reality which is right here, right now, irrespective of the nature of what is. This latter is the most important point. The expression "what is" is already sufficiently widespread in spiritual circles, but its meaning has veered and now designates something else, a luminous "what is", a superior "what is", a pleasant "what is"… Pigeonholed "what is".

And the other side of the coin, the not-quite-so-luminous, the less pleasant and what is deemed inferior is swept under the carpet.

This radical simplification brings us to something which we have always fled. It is, therefore, quite normal for there to be resistances which express themselves in different ways. The aim of the quest is right here, right now. It is how we accept this reality that makes all the difference. If at this moment we encounter a little man or a little woman, a sorrow which has never healed up, something of which we should like to purify ourselves, a particular memory which seems to be an obstacle to our awakening as we imagine it, all these things are elements which are as alive in the present moment of time as all the realities we prefer to nourish. I’m not saying they’re centers of interest in themselves, but they’re corridors or doors, the true meditation, the one that provides a shortcut between self and self. It’s the one that’s present in this direct encounter.

What we meet in this intimate moment can develop because we actually allow it to exist freely.

We can, for example, encounter something sad and, without really disappearing, this sadness can reveal itself to be more than just a personal sadness. Maybe the symbol of something wider, vaster. But we should not anticipate or manipulate the way the encounter develops. Everything that is aroused in the self contains the answer to all quests, provided the encounter is candid.

Now I propose that, once again, you express, simply, what is truly concerning you at this moment in time and which is not a thought.

 

I have another question...

 

Yes, questioning comes from dissatisfaction. Regardless of the intelligence of the questioning. The encounter with the self which I propose makes it possible to dissolve the questioning because it reveals a joy in the simplicity of being. I’m not talking of the legitimate day-to-day questioning but of existential, spiritual questionings etc. If I don’t answer your question, it’s to indicate that the reply resides in delving deeper into the encounter with the self. If I were to answer your question, you would note that this reply would entail another question and so on. The questioning is self-nourishing and is part of the process of flight. So, without judging your question or its content, I point out to you that it’s stimulated by fear.

In a human being’s world, there’s nothing else than what is right here, right now. We might imagine that there’s another "here" over at our neighbor’s, or even that someone else exists. But in the encounter with the self, we discover, we obtain the confirmation that nothing else exists. It’s the ego’s vision which, so it’s said, thinks it is the center of the universe. It so happens that it’s right. In spiritual circles, people like to think differently, but the feeling of being the center of the universe is first and foremost a reality. The center of the universe is right here, right now.

 

But when I focus on what I experience, I almost always find anger is there!

 

Anger is one of those things that are aroused in the self and which we judge to be inappropriate. This judgment doubtless stems from the fact that we have called this thing that is aroused in the self anger and because we fear its consequences, or because we imagine the consequences will be difficult. So the encounter, the way I mean it, with this anger is impossible on these bases. In reality, something is aroused in the self – a fairly powerful energy and a direction which we anticipate such as "I’m going to lose control". The spiritual seeker doesn’t want to lose control, not for anything in the world. All his activity is aimed at keeping and heightening control. He wants to manage his life. Anger is the antithesis of the spiritual goal. It’s one of those things that are aroused in the self and which are not reasonably spiritual, as I said just now. What’s more, I don’t want to convince you this evening that it would be spiritual. That’s not the issue. But we thought we’d understood that if we wanted to be spiritual, and above all if we wanted to become a great master, someone who was enlightened or something of that sort, anger was out of place, or at least it should not be visible. So there are all sorts of ways to control anger, from automatic strategies to the most sophisticated ploys, which, moreover, have given rise to many books and training courses. Something is aroused in the self which, out of fear, we keep at arm’s length. The fear in question is the one I was speaking of just now, a primal fear, the fear of the individual in conflict with a hostile and dangerous world. So what role is anger going to play in all that? The seeker doesn’t dare think of it, so he puts a lid on it. And if he’s not really capable of putting a lid on it, that’s to say control it or make it go away, there’s an explosion. The encounter I speak of is a sort of mid-way course. Between the lid and the explosion

Before becoming known as anger, this energy is something alive, vast and unique. But we have to encounter it in order to be able to say this. That’s it in a nutshell. At the very core of what we are fleeing from. Being with is the opposite to the mechanism of the spiritual seeker’s approach who, when he comes face to face with turmoil within him, tries to control it, by going into meditation, for example, just as he’d switch on the TV. The encounter reveals the nature, and the real texture of this energy and it can also show that this energy doesn’t always have to follow the same grooves of expression.

The most awesome judgment in human experience is the spiritual judgment. Spiritual seekers are more violent, a violence which they direct against themselves, than people who say that they don’t feel concerned by spirituality.

When the seeker looks at himself, he sees, for example, that he’s been practicing meditation for a certain number of years, and he feels he’s still treading water, despite his progress. In reality, he’s still judging what is there, and this judgment is awesome. The seeker is incapable of seeing that the point of departure, right here, right now, is the actual destination of his spiritual journey. It’s impossible, because the departure is worthless, useless and unpleasant.

 

How can I be with the irritation I feel, even as I listen to you?

 

Being with the irritation in question is to accept it, without nourishing it. If you justify your irritation to yourself, and if you justify the existence of someone else who seems to be responsible for it, this is not being with, you’re looking for a cause and a solution somewhere else. When you encounter this irritation, I completely disappear as someone responsible for your irritation, and irritation is all that’s left. In the moment of the encounter, I only exist via your possible projections and irritations. The only truth is to encounter what is aroused in you. This is a tipping point. You thought the irritation was coming from me, and now you focus on what is aroused in you. So you’re no longer in the mental justification, in the habit of wanting to relieve the irritation in the usual way, by pointing out my error or some possible external fault. The tipping I speak of brings us back to the intimate encounter with a live energy. You enter, you explore what it feels like, you test the quality, you explore the truth of this energy, which is perhaps not as you thought. The spiritual seeker is in a specific management situation, in relation to what he foresaw or anticipated. It’s interesting and thank you for speaking about your irritation. When we meet up with a live energy, the first thing we do is to remove the label that has been placed on it. It’s not a question of carrying out an analysis, a psychoanalysis or having an understanding. The encounter I speak of is not on a mental plane, but a radical overthrow of this attitude.

 

I can clearly see the fear of dying. But I think I’ll overcome it one day.

 

If we speak of a natural fear, inscribed in our body, such as the fear of disappearing, is it a question of trying to overcome the fear or trying to encounter it?

 

I see. We have to encounter it without trying to overcome it.

 

Yes, it’s a fear that has to be met up with, otherwise we’re once more faced with the spiritual runner who says: "I’ve understood, I’m going to overcome the fear of dying." The encounter I speak of is not an overcoming. Overcoming is one of the tricks of the spiritual ego who wants to achieve something supra-normal. In the need to overcome something, we find ourselves in a power conflict, in "the" classic spiritual quest power conflict, of the seeker reacting to a living reality and who tries to place himself above it. That’s called spiritual ambition. It’s not a question of being above but of being in. Once you’re in, many things can happen. Maybe we can be consumed by fear or by the force of love. Everything’s fine. But, whatever, it’s all we aspire to. Burning in the fires of love, and… There’s no love in flight.

If we return right here, right now, we return to the reality of the moment, without any spiritual ranking. If we express what is happening right here, right now, we are transmitting and confiding something. Something true and precious, at least in the quality of the exchange. But if we talk from our head, we may well be sincere but, at the same time, not be received at all by the person we are speaking to, because he feels that we’re not speaking from our heart, from the truth of the present moment in time. In all conflicts, misunderstandings clearly stem from the even unconscious feeling that the other person is not speaking from the right place. And yet, we think it’s what is said that creates a problem. This is something which is really worth looking at in relationships. Many dialogues take place on a certain level, people try to solve communication problems without realizing that the solution is in returning to what is, right here, right now. Infinitely more alive, infinitely truer.

 

What don’t I see in the moment?

 

What is right here, right now is not something we see or don’t see, it’s something that we don’t want to see. And yet all of it is right in the field of vision, just like this empty chair in front of me. Since apparently it doesn’t have any use, I see everything else but I don’t see it any more... and yet it’s not out of sight. If someone points out to me that it’s just here, next to me, I become aware of it once more. If the chair is right here, right now, but I’m looking for it farther away, on the wall, on your faces, and if I want to move forward, I may even be forced to go round it. This is the spiritual seeker’s "going round" or bypassing movement I was talking about. What is right here, right now is very simple, as simple as a chair in a field of vision. But the spiritual seeker has learned how to complicate things. Tell me, now: is there anything you could experience in a simpler way, right here and now, and which you might wish to avoid?

The real aim of the quest is to be on friendly, even loving terms with the self. And, whatever form it assumes, flight takes you away from that.

 

Yes, what you’re saying strikes a chord in me. What I feel right here and now is a feeling of tenderness.

 

Yes, it’s a warm-hearted look, one that you don’t always "authorize" yourself, on account of the tension which drives you on to something other than the self, towards an improvement, an image, an ideal, where there’s no room for tenderness for oneself. Tenderness… that’s a beautiful expression you use. The spiritual seeker is violent, particularly with himself, and the violence, the harshness have been nurtured by reading and courses. And this is not the fault of writers or lecturers. We’re talking about how the spiritual seeker uses teaching for his own ends.

An invitation to tenderness. The runner isn’t tender, he’s tensely focused on a destination which is more the result of premeditation than meditation. But before tenderness appears, it’s possible that the encounter with the self takes another route. This is an important point. It’s not a question of setting tenderness as a goal and once more avoiding everything that is not tenderness. I’m talking of an encounter with the self which is made with what is, right here, right now. It’s an encounter which has various movements that are denied in the very name of spirituality. Before being labelled emotion, desire, anger, obsession, these movements are energies. These energies are not a problem, except for those who are stuck in the groove. At the source of anger or within it, there is a living reality. Of course, when it is expressed in the form of anger, we fear the consequences, and we try to keep things under control, out of habit. But my invitation to return to what is, right here, right now, to encounter whatever we meet up with, as if it were a door to be opened, leads us to discover a unique energy that has taken on multiple forms. When we discover that this energy which, once perceived as anger, is maybe the worst thing as such, when we discover that it is in essence the thing that is the most real, the most beautiful as such, we can see how the spiritual seeker and his path cave in and how, from the darkness, he discovers a true light.

We’re not expected anywhere else than at this place, right here, right now. God is not waiting for us anywhere else. The return to the self is accessible and familiar. There’s nothing difficult about it, even if it requires a little attention to get used to the new way of looking.

 

So is there nothing true in the spiritual quest?

 

At the beginning of any spiritual approach, there is a call. The only thing which really belongs to us is this call. The approach is already a deviation from the call. From the moment we become conscious of the call and think we’re being called elsewhere, we’re already far from being able to answer it. In itself, the spiritual approach is no different from going to the movies or a restaurant. I’m not saying that going to the movies or a restaurant, or practicing a spiritual technique has or doesn’t have a value. That’s not the issue. In reality, you can discover yourself at the movies as easily as you can within a spiritual approach.

 

What you’re saying in fact, to a certain extent, is that approaches are pointless. But it’s easy to say that, isn’t it? You yourself have meditated. Didn’t that contribute to what you’re experiencing today?

 

This is an eternal subject which is based on the certainty that the spiritual evolution takes place in time and space. If we look at the space covered and the time spent, we add everything which made it up and we get a result. I was saying that the outcome which the seeker expects could as easily happen at the movies as it could during meditation, for instance. The mental, logical, linear associations which we make could have nothing to do with what we are talking about this evening. In the best of cases, a spiritual approach is a diversion which inadvertently fosters the encounter with the self. And certain practices are diversions for the seeker and for the mind.

 

But I can’t deny my past practices, they’ve all given me something.

 

If you put some material in a washing machine and you do a pre-wash, you could say that the pre-wash is a preparation for the washing process itself. But that also means that you identified yourself with the material. If you realize you’re not the material, that you really are what’s inside the material and that this doesn’t need to be washed or purified, you can still say the material has been prepared by the pre-wash but… you’re not the material. Do you see?

There’s a difficulty in accepting the spiritual awakening as something which is so simple that, to begin with, we have the feeling that it is an encounter with nothing. This nothing is unacceptable for the spiritual seeker. It is this which, when he’s on the threshold, makes him take to his heels. The spiritual seeker’s approach is based on refusing what is. These creations are there to appease the terror he feels when confronted with what is. The day the spiritual seeker encounters the root of refusal, at the basis of all his spiritual actions, he finds he’s angry against what is. This is a terrible moment, but which is much more radical and salutary than all the approaches in themselves. The problem is in accepting this "no".

 

I see a large silence listening...

 

That’s very beautiful. But, for the purposes of our meeting this evening, let me express a doubt. What have you become in this silence? Are you this silence?

Answering on an impersonal level, as I often hear from non-duality adepts, is one of the favorite forms of flight for the seeker who has built himself up a mental niche to avoid all this disturbing humanity. I’ve sometimes asked the question: "What are you feeling at this moment?" and heard the answer: "There’s nobody" or "Who’s asking the question?" Which means that after years of encounters, I’ve never been able to hear anything living from certain of these followers of mental spirituality. Sometime anesthesia is total, and the resultant satisfaction comes from the fact that in this absence of what is felt, the spiritual seeker finds himself very spiritual, very evolved. It’s an unfortunate recuperation of non-dual inspiration by the spiritual seeker. It’s the most flagrant example, in my experience, of the seeker’s deviation from spiritual inspiration.

 

But, for me at least, what you’re saying seems to be that we place ourselves in a world of silence.

 

You don’t place yourself anywhere. If you place yourself somewhere, you’re once more creating something other than what is.

 

A prisoner can’t experience what you’re saying. He no longer has the choice.

 

The prisoner doesn’t have the choice of stepping the other side of the bars. But he can live the moment.

 

But he’s still a prisoner.

 

If really there’s no other possibility for him than prison, he still has the choice of experiencing what is. Right here, right now. And I’m not saying that prison is a pleasant place or that it’s good to go behind bars. But that reality is no different in that particular environment. Prison is not devoid of what is, right here, right now. And this is the beauty of any situation, or in any case the way we can experience it. There are as many prisoners outside prisons as inside, you know.

Does this mean we should cease all spiritual approaches?

Whether you come looking for something or other, a clever trick from a lecturer, for instance, or a cosmic cuddle from certain darshans, you’re always in the perspective of receiving something. And above all, something other than what life naturally offers us at each moment. In the look that I propose, I’m not denying the possible value of all these encounters. What I’m doing is to invite you to a salutary tip-over that will lead you to what is marvelous, right here, right now, and which, at some time, should reveal itself as the genuine place for the encounter, like the real objective of the spiritual quest.

 

But what becomes of other people in this look? You talk of the self, the self, isn’t that a bit egocentric?

 

I think it’s necessary to look at what happens at the here and now. Because, as spiritual seekers, we have a very ingrained habit of passing the buck to the other person, such as the cause of our disquiet or our suffering, or even the source of our happiness. In reality, everything happens here. If the relationship with the other person is to improve, it will only do so on this basis. It’s pointless for a spiritual seeker to play at love or help his neighbor, if his inner life is in a state of confusion.

 

I feel what you say is right, but I also feel a tension.

 

When a branch we’re clinging to is shaken or jeopardized, there’s a tension. At the same time, there’s also an opportunity. "I feel something: can I be with it?" Without trying to analyse its origins mentally, without wanting to get rid of what is felt, without trying to replace it by something else, such as a transcendental joy, by completely forgetting that what I’m experiencing is caused by someone else, and therefore avoiding looking for appeasement on the outside.

The tension is produced by the movement of the branch. What you feel as being right is the truth of the moment which is behind the branch, right behind it.

 

Isn’t everything you propose going to seem a little flat? A little sad to experience?

 

It’s true that the spiritual seeker just loves intensity as a way of validating his experience or simply the fact of being alive. In other words, if it’s intense, it’s true, it’s living. Otherwise, it’s time to look for another course or change practice. It’s often more tempting to go on a primal shout course, during which you roll intensely on the ground, than encounter what is right here, right now, and which is not very intense, not very interesting, for the spiritual seeker at any rate.

But it’s really not intensity you’re looking for because you’re not the spiritual seeker. And when you allow yourself the simple joy of being with what is, right here, right now, when you allow this joy to rise to the surface, to exist, irrespective of the nature of what you encounter, of what is aroused in you, you’ll have less taste for the intensity of the past."

 

   

    

 

 

 

 

© Thierry Vissac 2001-2007