The Perfume of Silence

by Francis Lucille

  In fact, when anything is “known,” whatever is known ceases to exist as an apparent object and merges with consciousness. That is what knowing is. All we ever truly know is consciousness. Consciousness knows itself in this vast diversity of experience.

  Consciousness is intelligence itself. If we approach consciousness with a question, then, when the question dies, we find ourselves in the universal answer. We are the answer. All the answers are there in a single moment. If we go to consciousness following a feeling, then, when the feeling dies, the response is love or happiness. Consciousness experiences itself as love or happiness. If we naturally follow a sense perception, then, when it dies, the response from consciousness is beauty. It could be said that understanding is the intellectual aspect of consciousness, love is the feeling aspect of consciousness, and beauty is the perceptual aspect of consciousness.

  A work of art is an object composed of various elements, which takes us through this journey of perceptions. It leads us through a medley of thoughts, feelings, and perceptions and, at some point, when we have gone through the various elements, it leaves us in a place of silence.

  The mind wants to know, but cannot. When the mind knows that it cannot know, it becomes silent. When the mind becomes silent, when it gives up its pretension of knowing and becomes empty of its entire luggage, we receive from this invisible source that is the core of our being, precisely what needs to be known at every moment, if indeed anything needs to be known. To live in this way, in this silence of the mind, open to the universal harmony, is what is called to live in the Tao. Then there is happiness at every moment, miracle at every moment, discovery, newness, freshness, creation, at every moment. It is very easy. There is no need to be self-realized to have this experience. Just do it.

  Could you speak of not being the doer?

  The understanding, “I am not the doer,” is on the negative side. It is what I am not, and it leaves one in a state of resignation. Happiness is still missing. Happiness comes from the experience of what I am, not from the understanding of what I am not. The understanding, “I am not the doer,” for instance, does not imply the understanding that consciousness is impersonal. This is especially true if the understanding, “I am not the doer,” comes from a materialistic view of the world, such as, “I understand that I am not the doer because this mind is the product of the body and this body is a product of the universe, which is itself subject to the law of causality. Therefore any action undertaken by this body is part of the action of the universe.” This understanding, “I am not the doer,” is a logical understanding, based on an honest scientific perspective. If, according to this, the mind is dependent on the body and consciousness is dependent on the mind, there will still be the fear of disappearing. There will be the fear of the disappearance of this body, which means the disappearance of this mind, which in turn means disappearance into nothingness. In this case there will be some relaxation, because we understand that there is nothing we can do, but at the same time there will be some resignation because of the lack of joy.

  The understanding, “I am not the doer,” does not logically imply that consciousness is universal, that my experience of “I am,” of being, is universal and eternal. I don’t see how there can be happiness under those circumstances. There can be some peace with resignation, but certainly not true celebration. True celebration comes from the good news that there is no death, from the deep feeling that what I am is eternal, not from the intellectual and dry understanding that there is nothing that I can do.

  Therefore, “I am not the doer” is not the ultimate understanding, because it does not imply that consciousness is impersonal. Ramana Maharshi discovered that there is no death when his body died at the age of sixteen. He discovered that this “I am-ness” is eternal. Of course the corollary of this is, “I am not this little doer.” Therefore, if it is understood as a corollary of a bigger experience, of the experience of silence, of presence, of eternity, it is all right. Having said that, if someone is making efforts, it may be useful to tell this person, “You are not the doer. What are you trying to achieve? It doesn’t make any sense since there is no doer.” In the cessation of effort that follows, there will be a window of opportunity for a glimpse of our true nature.

  What is Sahaja samadhi?

  The term Sahaja samadhi is usually used in relation to Nirvikalpa samadhi. Nirvikalpa samadhi is the experience of our true nature. In Nirvikalpa samadhi there is the presence, the knowledge, and the joy of our eternity. The natural process of realization after Nirvikalpa samadhi is Sahaja samadhi. After Nirvikalpa samadhi, after the experience of the ultimate joy, the world reappears and the old patterns of thinking and feeling usually reappear. The sense of separation reappears but since the peace and happiness of Nirvikalpa samadhi, of our true nature, still lingers, a very deep desire to go back to Nirvikalpa samadhi accompanies the reappearance of the world. For a while we want to reproduce this peace, until it is pointed out that we are still in a dualistic, separating perspective, since we are making the distinction between nirvana, pure consciousness, and samsara, the world. Then we are asked, “From where does the world arise, where does it abide, and where does it go?” Obviously the answer is, “Consciousness.” The answer comes from the experience of Nirvikalpa samadhi. Then we are asked, “If it arises out of consciousness, exists in consciousness, and vanishes back into consciousness, then what is its true nature?” The only possible answer is, “It is consciousness itself.” Then we are asked, “Why are you looking for Nirvikalpa samadhi if everything is consciousness? Just stay at rest wherever you are.” Then, all of a sudden, we realize that our true nature is always present under all circumstances, that everything is God, that there is nothing that is not God. That is Sahaja samadhi, the natural state.

  Sometimes we can clearly see a point of no return, but it is not always like that. However, the deep fear of disappearing, the deep fear of death, doesn’t come back. This deep fear is what prevents us from being happy. When it disappears the search becomes a celebration.

  What is transmitted by a spiritual friend?

  What is really transmitted is the ultimate peace that is present when the fear of disappearing has vanished. This absence of fear communicates itself without your having to make any effort. The words have some interest but they are not the important part. When a child wakes up frightened of tigers in the middle of the night, it goes into its mother’s bedroom and climbs into bed with her. The mother does not need to do anything. She just lies with the child and holds it. Slowly the child’s fear dissipates. Why is this? It is because the mother is not afraid of tigers. She is fearless. She doesn’t do or transmit anything to the child. However, it is because she is fearless that the child is able to gradually let go of its own fear. The child senses her confidence and her unshakable fearlessness and it is this resonance with its mother’s fearlessness that gives it the courage to let go of its own fear. It recognizes her fearlessness as its own.

  When the child relates the story the following morning, he may say that his mother comforted him and that it was as a result of this that his fear vanished. However, that is just how that child sees it. The mother knows that she didn’t do anything, that it was her fearlessness that was the effective element in the encounter. Everything else was just the packaging that made it possible.

  Objects Flow Through Us

  I felt frustrated this morning because my young son wouldn’t settle. I was tangled in a knot of frustration. Then I found myself watching the irritations and frustrations. I suddenly came across a peacefulness, watching the frustration come and go. Later, I heard your words, “Just drop it.” At that moment, I didn’t know who would do the dropping, what dropping could ever mean, or who the dropper was.

  When there is quiet watching, there is nothing to drop. Drop the thought about dropping! There is no dropper. Dropping is the result of understanding. We drop the search when we understand that the search is not going to bring about the happiness th
at we are looking for. We drop it because it no longer means anything to keep it going. It is like looking for water in the desert. We dig and dig until somebody points out that there is no water there. Then it suddenly makes sense. “Yes, there is no water; what am I doing?” Often, however, because the habit of digging is so strong, we start digging again until the understanding returns and we stop. At some point, we don’t need to run through the story of the man telling us that there is no water, we don’t need to go back to this line of reasoning.

  We just catch ourselves digging and drop it immediately. It takes less and less time to come to the understanding and after a while, as soon as we catch ourselves digging, it just stops.

  There is no dropper of the digging. It is always the same understanding that drops the digging. Nobody drops the digging. It gets dropped. The alleged person is the digger, so he cannot also be the dropper. If there is a dropper of the digger, then the dropper must be the same as the digger. If there is any intention, then this dropping is simply more digging.

  In my experience welcoming doesn’t happen without an intention and if there is an intention, then it isn’t really welcoming, and the thoughts and feelings just crowd in.

  When you say that intentional welcoming is not true welcoming, you are formulating an understanding. This understanding itself happened as a result of true welcoming. It is the welcoming of a situation that leads you to the understanding that intentional welcoming is not real welcoming. Since you have this understanding, it is a good tool because whenever you see that there is an intention, by the same token you understand that there is no welcoming. In the light of your understanding, the intention is going to be dropped. If we judge ourselves, it implies that we would like to be different, that we would like not to have an intention. This means that we have the intention not to have an intention, and this creates one more layer of intention. Don’t build up layers of intention. See the mechanism. See that when there is intention, welcoming is prevented. Don’t judge it. It’s OK. It’s part of nature. Intention is natural. Ego is natural. Problems are natural. Absence of problems is also natural. Everything is natural. Everything is OK. Everything is part of the whole picture that is perfect as it is.

  Don’t judge yourself. There is nobody to be judged. See the intention for what it is. The moment that we see that there is no welcoming, we are already in welcoming. It is only welcoming that enables us to see this situation and this seeing is enough. Trust it. You don’t need to do anything about it. Don’t create a doer who wants to do something, who wants to improve the welcoming, who is not happy with the way the welcoming is happening or not happening. You have understood that intention is the major obstacle to welcoming. Let this understanding work for you, don’t work for it.

  ***

  I watch perceptions, thoughts, and sensations fade at night. They clearly vanish into me, so the real “I” obviously does not sleep. I resolve to watch the reverse in the morning, but at that time it is not so certain that they come out of me because I seem to wake up in a ready-made world. Can you say more on that?

  In the final phase of the world and the body disappearing at night, it accelerates and goes very fast. Then, the same thing happens as they reappear when we wake up. It is very fast. When you were witnessing the sensations fading, there was a double process going on. There was a process at the level of sensation, and at the same time the mind was interpreting like a theoretician trying to match the theory with the experiment. It is important to eliminate the theoretician and to stick to the experiment, to the feeling and the sensation. The experience of the vanishing of the observer doesn’t only happen during this transition from waking to sleeping. When we notice the presence of the observer, we can welcome it completely and watch its disappearance, like watching a sunset. That which remains is our true nature. The observer cannot be aware of this, because the observer is itself perceived. It is a thought, an impersonator, which doesn’t observe anything. It is observed.

  In my case, when the theoretician became aware that I was awake all the time and that I was the witness of these transitions between states, I realized by the same token that it had actually been like this for years. I just hadn’t been able to formulate it at the level of mind nor had the mind been struck by this knowledge, because it goes on beyond the mind.

  It happened when I was falling asleep. My physical body dissolved completely, and then there was pure nothingness. This in turn took the shape of the entire dream world. Then I realized that I had been present all the time as this consciousness. Consciousness is like a ball of clay, at one moment taking the shape of the body, then just clay again, and then taking the shape of a dream. The clay itself is pure silence.

  The I-feeling is present in the dream. The dream then goes into the clay, and out of the clay, the world of the waking state arises, and the I-feeling arises with it. However, for a long time after this, the feeling of the presence of our true nature remains, so that although the objects of the waking state, including the I-feeling, reappear, they no longer have any hypnotic power over us. This is especially true if we meditate in this way before going off to sleep and, if we do, we find the same state of meditation is present when we wake up.

  The “state of meditation” means that objects are present, but we are not hypnotized by them. If we knowingly dehypnotize ourselves from objects when going off to sleep, we find that we are still free from them when we wake up. It does not mean that the objects are not present; it means that we are not stuck to them. This presence often lingers for an hour or so, but if we abide in it knowingly, it remains for the entire day and also as we fall asleep. In this case, it is permanent. The more we abide in it, the more it is felt. In our meetings we cultivate this knowingness and, at some point, we feel it. If there is a pure intention to know it, we will feel it.

  Is the observer the same as the I-thought?

  Yes, it is the thought that limits what we are to a specific entity that has the capacity to observe. The ego is created by the desire to observe. In fact, it is the desire to observe.

  Is it better to be in the I-feeling than to follow the desire?

  The pure I-feeling cannot maintain itself. It can go either of two ways: it can either merge with consciousness or it can grow an attribute such as, “I want this,” “I am this,” “I am happy,” “I am not happy,” “I am angry,” “I am a man.” It cannot stay as pure “I.” Either it dies and goes back to its source, thus revealing consciousness or, in order to perpetuate itself, it gets busy identifying itself with objects, thereby limiting itself. Look at your own thoughts and feelings. You can either go back to the I-thought around which they hinge and from here you will be led to its source, which is this welcoming space of consciousness or, if this space is deemed insufficient, the I-thought will arise again and generate agitation, desires, and attributes.

  If we go from a thought or feeling back to the “I” around which they revolve, how do we go upstream to the source from there?

  This “I” is a perceived thought or feeling. It is perceived by or appears in me, whatever that is, in consciousness. So are we the I-thought or I-feeling, or the consciousness in which it appears? Obviously we are the consciousness in which it appears. Having understood this, we now have the choice either to remain knowingly as this space in which the I-thought or the I-feeling appears or as an object, the “I.” To begin with, as we abide knowingly as this welcoming space, we will find ourselves being dragged back to the thought or feeling of being a limited “I,” out of habit. However, the more often we gently return to this welcoming space and remain there in open unknowing, the more natural and easy it will become to remain there, to remain as it.

  This space of welcoming is always in the now, it is the now, and in it all these contractions are revealed. The contractions are avoidance, avoidance of the now, which from the mind’s point of view, is boring because there is nothing for it to do there. In fact, the mind does not exist there. It mistakenly construes this si
lent, luminous space of awareness as nothingness and therefore starts to manufacture desires and fears again.

  However, there is no need to take the I-thought again and again; it becomes boring if we do. We take the I-thought once and it leads us to this welcoming presence which we are. Then, we remain in this presence, in the now, and face all the contractions, the avoidance, the attraction, the repulsion, the stuff. Gradually, as we face this stuff as it comes up, it loses its connection with the “I” which, no longer identified with an object, merges with the source and is realized as consciousness. To begin with, it seems like an effort to keep returning to the welcoming presence, but at some point it is so natural that it seems to require an effort to leave it. It feels like home. We no longer feel that we need to be entertained.

  Would you say that it is more important to let the “I” go in the course of our daily lives or in meditation?

  There is no difference. Meditation should be part of daily life and daily life should be meditation. We can put time aside to meditate if we are invited, if it comes out of the desire to cooperate, if it comes from goodwill. However, don’t separate it from daily life. Don’t feel, “I have done my chores,” and then disconnect. If we meditate in the morning and the evening, we will have spontaneous reminders during the day, although we may not recognize them. The moment in which a reminder comes to us is very creative. We just live with it, let it flow through us. Sometimes it is a thought, thinking about the truth. Sometimes it is more like a feeling, being invited by meditation. If we make a special time for meditation, in order to go towards a goal, then there is some rigidity, some discipline. If we make time for it out of love, without a goal, without the notion that it will take us nearer the mark, that is fine. In the beginning, we may choose to meditate in a certain position, but later the position becomes irrelevant. At some point it is very difficult to tell when we are meditating and when we are not. That’s the whole point. It no longer makes any sense to us to make this kind of distinction.