www.francislucille.com
Perfume of Silence
Francis Lucille
Compiled by Rupert Spira
© 2006 by Francis Lucille
Truespeech Productions P.O.Box 1509 Temecula, CA 92593
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First Edition Printed in the United States of America
ISBN-10: 1-882874-01-3
1. Spirituality, 2. Consciousness
Other books by Francis Lucille: Truth Love Beauty, Eternity Now
This book is dedicated to all the beautiful beings who have made this publication possible through their labor of love.
Francis Lucille Temecula, California 2006
Contents
Foreword
Be Present Without Intention
There Is No “There”
Just Say “Yes” Inside
The Mother of All Problems
Don’t Leave the Throne
There Is No Time, at All Times
God Is Very Mischievous
An Explosion of Freedom
What the Mind Cannot Know
Objects Flow Through Us
Meditation Never Starts or Stops
Love in Search of Itself
Peace, the Universal Container
The Desire for the Absolute
The Transparent Diamond
Foreword
Before the formulation of a question there is the feeling, “I don’t know.” It is out of this openness at the level of the mind that a question comes. This openness is expressed the only way the mind can express something, through concepts, but the true essence of the question is the openness from which it originates. We could say that a question is this openness in the form of a concept; it is the shape that “I don’t know” takes in the mind.
When this question is received by someone who is simply present as this openness, the openness again takes the form of conceptual thinking and delivers an answer. The purpose of the answer is not to perpetuate the conceptual thinking that is present in the question, although sometimes a dialogue may take place at that level. The purpose of the answer is to put an end to the question, for a question only ceases to be a question when it is truly answered.
That which puts an end to the question is that which dissolves the concept, the form in which the question was asked, and that into which the question is dissolved is that from which it came in the first place, openness. There is nowhere else for it to go. So we could say that the answer undresses the question and returns us to naked openness, to the original not-knowing.
The difference between the openness before the question and the openness after the answer is simply that, because the question has been satisfactorily answered, there is at least temporarily a cessation of agitation in this openness, there is no impulse to escape from it into conceptual thinking, and in this moment we therefore have a glimpse of our true nature; openness experiences itself as such.
So nothing new is given by the teacher. The question contains the answer, in fact it arises out of the true answer. If this were not the case, if we did not already know the answer, how would we recognize it when we hear it? From where would that “Yes” that we feel when we understand something come from?
The openness from which the question arises and the openness from which the answer comes are not two different opennesses, they are one and the same. The asking of the question is the creative aspect of this openness. Its dissolution is the meditative aspect, the dissolving of all that exists in that which is. If we ask, “What is the purpose of a question? Why this movement, this creativity, why not just rest?” we cannot answer because the mind is itself part of the creativity about which we are asking.
However, William Blake said, “Eternity is in love with the productions of time” and so perhaps it is just that this openness enjoys revealing itself to itself from moment to moment and this play of dialogues is just one of its many modes of enjoyment. It is a game of hide and seek in which it hides itself and reveals itself at its own pleasure.
So the real question is not in the words and the real answer is not in the words either. The words must vanish for their true meaning to be understood and in that moment we realize that we do not understand what is said in these pages; we are that understanding. So the true content of both the answer and the question is this openness, this not-knowing, out of which they both arise, in which they are both maintained, and into which they are both dissolved. It is that which is present behind, between, and within the words.
This book is taken from dialogues with Francis Lucille in America, Canada, and Europe, between 1997 and 2002, but these meetings were not about asking questions and receiving answers and nor is this book. It has nothing to do with the exchange of concepts or with agreeing or disagreeing. If we find ourselves comparing, judging, and analyzing, we have missed the point, we have not yet been undressed. Rather it is a movement from openness to openness. This is the relationship between the student and the teacher. It is a dance that goes nowhere. We formulate questions out of this openness and they are dissolved again into this openness. It is a divine play in which openness reveals itself to itself moment by moment. The steps of this dance are sometimes fast and sometimes slow, sometimes gentle and sometimes austere, sometimes complex and sometimes simple, sometimes intellectual and sometimes heartfelt, sometimes long and sometimes short, but it is always the same dance.
The purpose of these dialogues is love. It is not to reinforce the idea that we are students and that the teacher is a teacher. When this openness is revealed to itself through this play of dialogues, one of the ways it is experienced is as friendship, as love, and this love is the dissolution of boundaries, the dissolution of all the makes us think and feel we are separate from each other and from the world. Strangely enough it is this very dissolution of “other” that makes us truly capable of loving an “other.”
Francis Lucille often says that we should forget everything that he says the moment we hear it or read it. What remains is the real meaning of the words, that to which we refer when we say “I,” the true answer to the question, the perfume of silence.
R.S.
Be Present Without Intention
Why are some experiences, such as a sensation in the body, conceptualized as “me” and others, such as a perception of the world, conceptualized as “not me”?
It is simply because you choose to call some “me” and some “not me.” You make an artificial distinction as a result of a conditioned habit. If you had been born in a civilization in which the rising sun was called “my sun,” you would consider it your sun. Both the perception that you call “the rising sun” and the sensation that you call “my body” appear in you. Neither is more or less “you” than the other.
The connection I have with my body is different from the connection I have with other bodies. That is why I feel that this body is myself and others are not. For example, I cannot feel the sensations in someone else’s body.
I am not denying that you appear to have a special connection with your body. Compare this with your car. When you are driving your car, you see it from the inside, whereas you see all others from the outside. So although you seem to have a special relationship with your car, it doesn’t imply that you are your car. It is the same in relation to your body. You are the consciousness in which your bodymind and all other body-minds appear. However, this doesn’t imply that you, as consciousness, are only this single body-mind organism or that you are a by-product of it. The belief th
at you are in your body is simply an interpretation of your actual experience. It is also an interpretation to think that you have a closer connection with some sensations than with others or to think that some sensations are on the inside and others are on the outside. All you need to do is to see it for what it is: an interpretation.
Such an interpretation may be convenient in some situations, and when it is, we use it. However, beware of becoming attached to an interpretation, of becoming hypnotized by it, and thinking that it is a representation of how things really are.
I am perfectly capable of using the same interpretation as you do when needed, but why not also use the absence of interpretation when it is not required by the circumstances. If in doubt, don’t interpret. What something appears to be is not necessarily what it is. What we call “my body” is an interpretation. When we identify with this interpretation, we feel separate, but in the absence of any interpretation, we discover that our body is consciousness. em>
Our real body includes the mind and the entire universe. This is the body we have always had and the one in which all bodies, gross and subtle, come into existence. We are not interested in what things appear to be, but in what things really are. It is important to be aware of what is fact and what is interpretation. Never take interpretation for fact.
We never actually experience the body as we conceive of it. We experience sensations, and it is only a subsequent interpretation that tells us, “This sensation arose in my foot.” At the time of the sensation, our foot was not present and our body was not present, only the sensation was present.
It is dangerous to use a theory as a tool in a domain for which it is not suited. For instance, the materialist interpretation of our experience, which is suitable for use in relation to the physical world, is not efficient in relation to happiness, love, or beauty, because it is not the appropriate tool.
How do we decide which tool to use?
Use the one that works. This materialist interpretation of the nature of reality is the most prevalent interpretation of the world in which we live and it is obviously a failure in terms of happiness. The most secure basis is one in which there is no interpretation. Then, depending on the circumstances, we use whatever theory is appropriate, knowing that all theories are limited, all are provisional. If they can do the job, we use them. If they can’t, we place them back in the toolbox where they belong.
Although consciousness is the screen on which everything appears, that which happens on the screen is different for each of us, and we identify with our own picture.
We can only use metaphors up to a point. When stretched too far they don’t work. We use the metaphor of images on a television screen to understand the relationship of thoughts, feelings, and perceptions to consciousness. The screen stands for consciousness, and the images for the manifestations, the energies, the appearances. If we want to understand the relationship between consciousness and the apparent multiplicity of minds, we can also use the image of a television screen, but in a different way. If innumerable television screens, each with their own image, represent innumerable minds, then in this case, consciousness is indicated by an observer who is watching all the television screens at the same time. Sometimes two images may have some connection because they share a common object. Sometimes they may not seem to have any connection, because their fields don’t intersect. However, one single witness observes all screens. In this metaphor the witness stands for consciousness and each screen stands for each individual mind.
This individual consciousness does not seem to share in the totality.
Objectively it is limited, but subjectively it is not. One television screen cannot see the other screens, but the observer has access to all of them. In the same way, your mind does not have access to other minds, but one consciousness sees all minds. The observer is not foreign to you because it is you. It is seeing and understanding these words right now. There is not a separate consciousness for each mind. There is only one hearer, one seer, one perceiver. The apparatus with which we see is by itself inert, unable to see. A telescope is useless without an astronomer behind it. It doesn’t see anything by itself. Likewise, the apparatus of mind doesn’t see anything by itself.
So the place to reside is in the witnessing consciousness?
It is not even a place to reside. It is the place where we always naturally reside, so no effort is needed to reside there. We simply have to understand this. It may seem difficult to reside there, but it is impossible not to reside there.
One is occasionally jerked out of it and then periodically one gets back there.
We occasionally seem to be jerked out of consciousness, but in fact, we never are. For instance, as long as we feel that it is a problem to be jerked out of consciousness, this feeling itself seems to jerk us out. The moment we understand that whatever happens, we are the consciousness in which it is happening, then being apparently jerked out of it is no longer a problem. In just the same way, falling asleep is not a problem because we know that the dream we are going to have is an illusion.
I feel as if I am looking out of this body and not out of that table. So, although that which sees is obviously infinite, it appears to have a limited or individual view.
That understanding is the core of what could be called enlightenment. We have to move away from the limitations that are superimposed onto consciousness. We have to dissociate consciousness, which is subjective and universal, from mind, which is objective and personal.
Somehow they reside hand in glove.
They are hand in glove in the sense that an object cannot appear without consciousness. However, the mind is an object that comes and goes. Everything that is objective is limited. The subject has no limitations. We superimpose the limitations of the object onto the subject that is unlimited. It is unlimited because it is not objective and therefore has no shape. If it has no shape, it has no contour, no borders. If it had borders we would be able to perceive them. If we could see the borders, the limits of consciousness, there would have to be a different consciousness that perceived them. The truth is that although it seems to you that consciousness is limited, it is not actually your experience. It seems to you that way, but it is a trick. This trick is called Maya. We seem to have the experience of a limited consciousness but when we investigate more closely, we see that it is impossible. That which is aware of limitations transcends limitations and is therefore beyond them.
What is the function of the mind in this process?
First, we eliminate all beliefs about consciousness. These beliefs are very subtle. We depersonalize consciousness. For that part of the journey the mind can be used because it is the mind that has personalized consciousness in the first place. That which has done the thing has to undo it. However, the mind cannot go further than that and, at this point, we understand clearly that a personal consciousness is not our experience. This is very important. Although it seems to be our experience that consciousness is personal, in fact it is not. That is as far as we can go with the mind. At this point, we are open to the dimension of consciousness that lies beyond the mind. The mind then becomes silent. This is not an artificial silence but a natural silence, when the mind has reached its limits and cleansed itself of all accumulated theories. Then for a while the question is dropped and in the absence of any question, the sense of separation vanishes. We now find ourselves in a welcoming presence in which the stage has been prepared for the permanent miracle, for beauty, love, and fulfillment. We are open to it. When we have reached the outposts of the mind, we are ready for the journey to the heart.
Is it possible to move into the heart before reaching the frontiers of the mind?
Absolutely.
***
If I ask myself, “Who am I?” I often get a feeling in the heart area. Is this a limitation that ties one to the body?
If you ask the question, “Who am I?” and look for the answer, it seems to come from this area. However, this area is a perceived obj
ect. It is a perception or a sensation. The real “you” is the consciousness to which this heart object appears. Do not rest on any object thinking, “This is me.” This is the meaning of the saying, “The Son of Man has no place to rest his head.” You cannot find yourself as an object, whether this object is profane, sacred, gross, or subtle. Don’t allow yourself to rest on any object.
Would you say that the highest point in meditation would be to rest in the heart?
It is certainly not to meditate upon any object and certainly not to meditate in the heart. Meditation is to simply let your thoughts, feelings, and perceptions freely evolve without any agenda. Remember when, as a very young baby, you had just been changed and fed and were not tired enough to sleep. What does a baby do in such a situation? It is simply present without any intention. That’s meditation. Meditation is not an effort. The posture is important but only insofar as it allows the body to be as transparent, as inconspicuous as possible. It is important to avoid a big pain in the middle of the picture. The correct position for meditation is the one that serves this purpose. Don’t forget that we are on the direct path. Why postpone happiness? To create pain in the present in order to secure hypothetical happiness in the future is not consistent with the direct path.
Meditation is very simple. It means to surrender the mind, the body, and the world, from moment to moment, to the silent presence in which they appear. That’s all.
What does it mean to surrender the mind, the body, and the world to that in which they appear? How do we do that?
Surrender the one who does that. Surrender the one who does anything, who wants anything, who is afraid of anything. This one is an appearance. This one is made of thoughts and feelings. When this one is silent, then the world, the body, and the mind are surrendered to silence. Nothing else needs to be done. It is only if it seems to you that you are not in the enlightened state and that something needs to be done, that you have apparently lost the enlightened state. You are in the enlightened state all the time. The only moment when you are apparently not in the enlightened state is when the doer, the desirer, pops up. It appears either as a thought or a feeling in the body, a resistance, an “I-don’t-want-this-feeling” or “that’s-not-the-waythings-should-be.”
The Perfume of Silence Page 1
