www.francislucille.

com

Truth Love Beauty

Francis Lucille

Compiled by Warwick Wakefield

Truespeech Productions P.O.Box 1509 Temecula, CA 92593

First Edition Printed in the United States of America

ISBN-10: 1-882874-02-1

1. Spirituality,

2. Consciousness

Other books by Francis Lucille:

Eternity Now

Perfume of Silence

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

Permanent Satisfaction

Playing Tennis with God

Before the Big Bang

Deathless

Let the Moment Flow

The Law of Surprise

The Fundamental Equation

Kiss the Mind Goodnight

You Have a Choice

Truth, Love, Beauty, and Happiness

Foreword

Each chapter of this book contains a conversation with Francis Lucille which took place on a
particular day. The first eight chapters are conversations during a residential retreat in a rural setting
near Ottawa, Canada in October 2002. The last two chapters are conversations at two public meetings
in London, England in May 2002.
Permanent Satisfaction

What is consciousness?

Consciousness is that which is hearing these words right now. It is that which perceives and in which
the world, the body, and the mind appear. We place these phenomena, or objects, into three categories.
When we hear a sound or see and touch a solid object through our senses, we put these outer
perceptions into the category that we call “the world.”
When we have inner sensations of the body, these inner percep​tions go into the category we call
“the body.”
When thoughts arise, they go into the category we call “the mind.” I never use the word “mind” in
the sense of something that actually perceives; I use it to indicate just one category of our entire
perceptual experience. Occasionally, however, I use the word “mind” to indicate the totality of these
three categories of experience—body/mind/world. You will have to tell from the context which usage
I am employing.
The body/mind/world changes constantly: a thought is replaced by a bodily sensation, which is
replaced by a sense percep​tion and so on. In the intervals, in the gaps, something endures, something
that is always present. We have a deep sense of this presence. We call it “consciousness” when we
refer to its internal existence, and we call it “reality” when we refer to its external existence, but in
both cases what we refer to is that which is always present. Indeed, consciousness and reality are one
and the same.
Let me elaborate. We have to understand that we are part of reality, and that there is no separation.
Therefore, the innermost experience we have, which is consciousness, must be the experience of
reality. It is the experience of the reality of reality, if you will. External to the body there is this world,
and this world is also part of reality. First, consider the essence of this external world—its core or its
substratum. Next, consider our existence as a body-mind, as an object, which is also endowed with
reality because we, as consciousness, are real. These are not two realities; they are two aspects of the
one reality. It could be said that we live simultaneously in two dimensions, consciousness and the
world, and it is possible for us to experience simultaneously the two aspects of God—God’s heart,
which is consciousness, and God’s body, which is the universe.

If, by some miracle, the body/mind/world could dissolve, fade away, and disappear, would
consciousness be left to experience itself directly?

Yes. Consciousness knows itself, with or without objects.

***

We have established that which is hearing these words is consciousness. Would it be fair to say that
consciousness needs the mind for interpretation? To illustrate what I mean: if the mind is diseased, if
there is an organic disease, for example, what is heard will be different.

Yes.

That statement carries tremendous implications. I can only conclude that you need an intact mind in
order to have true understanding. Something else tells me that consciousness is entirely self-sufficient,
but now I hear that it needs an intact mind in order to understand properly.

Yes, if you were deaf there would be little chance of your hearing what I’m saying. If the microphone
were not functioning it would be more difficult to communicate. But that doesn’t refer to conscious​-
ness knowing itself; it refers to the knowing of objects.

But it is consciousness knowing the objects.

Yes, the mind is the instrument through which objects are known. But the distortion that affects the
instrument doesn’t affect the scientist.

And how does one know that? How can one know that?

Because only an object can be affected.

But that would again be a concept.

We use concepts to convey meaning. Whatever I tell you will always be a concept, so if you say,
“That’s a concept,” you will be right. But the concept is not the understanding of the concept. So let’s
consider the matter again. I said that consciousness is not affected because consciousness is not an
object, and that only objects can be affected. What does it mean, to be affected? It means to undergo
change. For something to undergo change it has to exist in time. It needs to have shape, form, and
qualities. We can then say, “It has been affected; it used to be red and now it’s blue; it used to be in one
piece and now it’s in two pieces; it’s broken.” But consciousness has no form and no qualities. Since it
is not in space and time, it is not conditioned by space and time, so it cannot be affected. We know this
from our own inner experience. Our mind is affected at every moment, its content changing
constantly. The proof that consciousness is not affected is that we have this experience of remaining
conscious and being conscious of these changes. Consciousness of change is evidence of the
changelessness of consciousness.

You have mentioned the freedom to live in consciousness in an unlimited way. How do I make that more
concrete?

When I speak of the freedom to be knowingly consciousness, I speak of the freedom as consciousness
to identify or not to identify with the body-mind. If I say that I as a limited person have the freedom to
choose to be universal consciousness, it implies that our natural state, our default state, is to be a
person; that in order to be universal consciousness we have to make a special effort; and that to be
univer​sal consciousness is an artificial state that we have to create and superimpose. Being a state, it
will have a beginning and an end. But I am saying just the opposite. Our default state, our natural state,
is infinite consciousness, and upon this default state, which is freedom, we superimpose the belief of
limited existence.
Only consciousness has freedom and only consciousness can make a choice whether to be limited
or unlimited. But limited consciousness, having no freedom, cannot choose to become unlimited
consciousness. Therefore take your stand as unlimited consciousness, and from this stance stop
choosing to be limited consciousness, as we do every time we again fall in love with our pet belief
that we are a space-time limited entity.

***

You once answered a question of mine about being with a teacher. You said that after your own
awakening to a deeper sense of who you are, you continued to question your teacher. In my own case
there has been an absolute understanding, which is undeniable, and also a progressive quieting. The
length of this quieting is different for different people—with Ramana it was almost instantaneously
complete and after it happened he just sat in silence. What I want is a confirmation of my experience.
It seems to me that there is nowhere else to search; the quest of which I was formerly so proud is now
over, and yet there are times when there is a sensation of unrest.

There is a deepening of the experience after a glimpse of truth. Over time, that which has been
understood permeates every level of the body and the mind.
You mentioned that I asked questions of my teacher and that is true. That was a great benefit to me
because, after only two years of asking, I had completely exhausted questioning. Of course, we never
stop learning; we never stop receiving the gift of grace.

Would you translate this learning as an increase in the depth of understanding?

There is a process through which the body-mind realigns itself with the truth if you live
harmoniously inside. Things outside also become harmonious and at some point the problems and
misery vanish. But the adventure and the beauty continue. Any residual suffering or feeling of
inadequacy simply reflects the persistence of old habits.
What counts is not an experience we may have of awakening— an experience that may be exciting
at the time but which eventually fades away and leaves us dissatisfied. What counts is the permanent
satisfaction in which we live as a result of our having recognized what we truly are.
I saw my relationship with my teacher not as a relationship with someone who would give me
something I didn’t have; I saw it as a relationship with someone who was, on the one hand, God
manifested, and on the other hand, a dear friend who was traveling on the same path and whose
experience was valuable to me. He had these two functions. Because of his openness and the way he
looked at people and things as divine, it was easy for me to look at him as divine, and at the same time
he was a dear friend.

Playing Tennis with God

What is grace?

It is that which doesn’t come from an object. It is that which comes in the moment, from the moment,
fresh from the source. Since everything comes from the source, ultimately everything is grace.

Does that apply to ordinary experience? Can we really say that everything is grace?

Yes. To one who lives in ignorance, nothing is grace; to one who is on the path, some things and
some happenings are grace. But we shouldn’t rest there. The first step is to understand intellectually
that ultimately everything is grace, as I just explained.
The second step is to drop this intellectual understanding and simply to be open to the possibility
that everything is grace. Then everything will turn out to be grace.
Everything is the teacher. We have to graduate from being a part-time student only when we are in
the presence of our human teacher to being a full-time student for whom life itself becomes the
teacher. If we want this to happen we must live in not knowing. If we do know, we are no longer a
student; we have become somebody who knows. We have to take everything that we believe in with a
grain of salt—in fact two or three grains of salt.
Being certain about things is not necessary nor is it possible. We can live in the freedom of not
knowing. If you study with a teacher who explains everything to you—how reincarnation works, how
predestination works, how God works, and all the rest of it—that teacher knows too much.

***

For consciousness to know itself, does it need a human mind? Can it know itself through the mind of a
cat or a dog?

To know itself, it needs neither a human body, nor an animal body, nor a plant body, nor a mineral
body. It knows itself before it knows things.

I’ve never had the experience of consciousness knowing itself.

Are you telling me that you don’t know that you’re conscious?

I know that I am conscious.

When you know that you’re conscious, that is consciousness knowing itself.

Do we need a properly functioning mind to overcome the illusion of separate​ness? What if someone
has a mind that is not working very well, because of Down’s syndrome or senility, for example?

Whatever is taking place in such a mind comes from the desire to undergo that experience.

Consciousness wants to go through this experience?

Yes. The fact is, we see problems where there are no problems. We see problems because we think
that it is real to be a separate individual and we believe that liberation is a change during which this
individual, who was separate, becomes a non-separate individual. We imagine that, for this process to
take place, there are prerequisites such as a sharp mind. But all of that is based upon the notion of the
individual, which never existed except as this very notion.
What can be said is that if there is a sharp mind, with ignorance, there will be a shrewd ignorance;
if there is a not-so​sharp mind, ignorance will be less convoluted. But there can be a sharp mind
without ignorance and there can also be a not-so-sharp mind, without ignorance.

Do animals have to deal with the illusion of being separate? I’m thinking about my dogs.

That’s a good question. You should ask them.

They won’t answer.

Ramana Maharshi used to say that certain animals would reach this level of selflessness. I notice
differences in behavior among animals. I have a dog who behaves like a realized dog. I have never
asked him the question. And even if he were realized I’m not sure that he would make that claim.
The problem with this sort of question is that, if we were to come up with an answer, we would
know something, and since this world is in fact an illusion it is difficult to know something about
nothing. I think that the best way to behave towards animals is to assume they are realized beings. And
the same applies to human beings. If you approach beings, based upon this assumption, they will open
their hearts to you; they will become, and they will be, the way you see them, the way you compel
them to be. They will show their true colors.

***

One day I asked you about ignorance and how it came about and you said, “Is it here now?” Since the
answer to that is, “No, it isn’t here now,” I’ve been wondering whether it exists at all. I just thought
I’d run that by you again. It’s pretty hard to believe but it seems that it doesn’t exist at all.

Then stick to it.

I have a related question. You spoke about higher reasoning and with me, what is happening in the
field of higher reasoning is that I’m letting go of the illusion of ignorance.

You can also drop the illusion of its opposite: the illusion of enlightenment. If we hold on to the
illusion of enlightenment we haven’t really let go of the illusion of ignorance. Enlightenment is the
ending of ignorance. If we are still attached to the notion of enlightenment, by the same token, we are
still attached to the idea of ignorance. You cannot dissociate enlightenment from ignorance. The
interesting place to be is where you’re neither ignorant nor enlightened.

It feels very uncomfortable in some ways. I’m noticing that all kinds of emotions come up because
there’s no control.

And the mind wants to know! But the mind that knows, knows nothing. The mind wants to know in
order to become somebody. So it’s best to keep it simple.

I think so!

***

I’m trying to understand the notion, “Is there ignorance here and now.” If you were to ask me, “Is
there ignorance now?” I would say, “In my case, yes.” But what does ignorance mean? Does it mean
the impression of being a separate entity?

If you make the claim that there is ignorance now, it is for you to define it.

My understanding was that ignorance meant the illusion of being a separate entity. If that’s what it
means, I would say that, in my case, there is ignorance. I still have the feeling that I am separate.

To whom or to what does this feeling appear?

It exists on its own.

But it appears to you.

Yes.

So that which appears is the feeling of separation and at that very moment there is consciousness
being aware of a feeling of separation, would you agree?

Yes.

At that moment are you separate from the feeling of separation?

No.

Exactly. In the now there is never separation; never the duality of a subject and an object. Even in the
presence of a feeling of separation, you are not separated from this feeling. Ignorance, or separation,
appears to you like a dream, but it doesn’t have a reality of its own.

At this very moment, what gives rise to my belief that I am separate is the feeling—and this feeling
seems to be ever-present—of contraction in the body.

This sensation of contraction appears in you. It’s only if you identify with the sensation and say,
“That’s all there is to me,” that you can be a separate object, separate from the consciousness in which
it appears. But the truth is that you are consciousness, not the contraction. This sensation is not ever-
present; it arises and it falls away, soon followed by a new appearance.
I would like to expand on my statement that in the now there is never a duality of a subject and an
object. Consciousness and its objects—thoughts, bodily sensations, sense perceptions—are always
one. There is never a duality in our actual experience. Duality is the rewriting of history: an
interpretation of our experience after the fact.
 We arrive at the understanding of non-duality through a three-step process. In the first step, the
student is made aware of himself, or herself, as “witnessing consciousness” and not the body-mind.
When a seeker first approaches a teacher, he or she believes, “I am this body-mind and not the rest
of the world. If I am ‘this’ I can​not be ‘that.’” He is told, “You say I am ‘this’ and not ‘that.’ Well then,
as far as the mind and the body are concerned, are you ‘this,’ the witnessing consciousness which
perceives the body and the mind, or are you ‘that,’ the accumulation of perceived objects which make
up the body-mind?” Faced with this choice, he replies, “I am the witnessing consciousness.”
He has been caught in his own logic. He had been accustomed to seeing everything through the
screen of a this/that dichotomy where he was always the “this,” never the “that.” Now consciousness
has become “this.” Therefore the body and the mind must be “that.”
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 expan​sion.
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 conscious​ness. 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 sweet​ness 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 con​tact 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 conscious​ness.
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 back​hand!”
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 ques​tion, 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 agree​ment 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 liber​ate 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.

I’m talking about daily life situations not about something extraordinary which only a few sages have
reached. We all know those moments when we respond joyfully, “Yes, let’s do this! Let’s have a
frozen yogurt. Let’s ask a question in satsang.”
As an aside, it is not absolutely necessary to ask questions. Most of us have been to many of these
dialogues which are about the art of dissecting a carrot. There are only so many ways of doing so and
there comes a moment when you’ve explored every possibility. The mind should then be satisfied
about what a carrot is. It has seen all the sections and all the elevations; it has seen the subject under a
microscope, from a distance, and from all angles. At this point the mind is silent because it is
satisfied; it knows everything about the carrot and is no longer obsessed with vegetables.

***

Francis, the relationship between intention and spontaneity puzzles me. I sense that intention, what
one intends to do, is important. One can learn to discover one’s own deep and true intentions, and that
helps to motivate one’s life. And yet there is spontaneity within and all around. It seems like intention
keeps you on a single track for a while, whereas the enjoyment of spontaneity is like sitting back and
dispensing with intentions.

To give a precise example: somebody decides to establish an institution to clear landmines from South
Africa, and puts ten years of his life into the project. That’s a wonderful project but in making that
commitment and that intention that person then has to disregard all kinds of other spontaneous things
that they may notice along the way. I wrestle with that myself, the two sides of the proposition.

One should be without intention, which simply means not being attached to any previous intention. If
we crystallize or fossilize the intention we kill the joy. We need to keep the intention ever new, by
being close to its source. The flow, the Tao, doesn’t always flow in a straight line.

On the other hand, you yourself make commitments to people, some of which may bind you for several
years into the future.

But I may cancel! There is freedom. But let’s not focus on me in particular. The best way for all of us
to order our lives is to take into consideration the totality of the situation and look at the situation
from an impersonal vantage point. If there is a change in the intention as things develop, it will be a
turn for the best and it will take into account the general interest. We wouldn’t be happy if we made a
decision just for personal advantage, thereby impeding the free flow of the Tao and the overall
harmony of the situation.
A “personal” intention is one that involves a personal individual who is seeking relief from the
now; an “impersonal” intention comes from the now, from the joyful, total acceptance of what is.
There is not a somebody who intends, although there might be a body whose needs are taken into
consideration.
As long as we are simply reflecting intellectually or practicing a certain type of meditation, we
are at the stage of the flower but not yet at the stage of the fruit, as we are when we are trying to live
our daily lives in accordance with our understanding. Then the question arises, “What is the right
action, the spontaneous action?” The question doesn’t arise theoretically, but out of goodwill because
we want to live like this, or at least try. Goodwill in and by itself is enough.

So goodwill takes the place of intention itself?

Yes, but true goodwill is free from political correctness, and doesn’t care at all about what others may
think. It is not necessarily what is currently recognized in certain circles as the right thing to do or the
right place to be. There are fads. Sometimes it’s fashionable to be a Buddhist, sometimes an Advaitin,
sometimes to go to Africa or Calcutta and do good; but that is not what we are talking about here.

***

What is the relationship between thinking and knowing? It seems that the value of talking, when we
work our way through something, is to get to a place of knowing. But when I analyze the origins of my
thoughts it seems that most arise out of fear, possibly a fear of remaining ignorant.

I notice that in knowing, no thought is necessary. But thought seems to move me out of knowing. So it
seems that while thoughts are embedded in a sense of fear or lack, there is something to be gained
from following a train of thought because it eventually leads to a cessation of thought. Maybe thinking
can get you halfway there.

I am not sure that your observation is correct, that the thought or question about the truth comes from
fear. That which comes from fear is the thought which escapes from the truth or doesn’t want to know
it. In my experience the thought that seeks the truth doesn’t come from fear.

It comes from a sense of lack; it’s looking for something.

Yes, but it comes from interest, which is another word for love—in this case a love of truth,
intelligence, and understanding. It’s quite different from the thought that doesn’t want to understand,
that dwells upon fears and desires and retreats to business as usual.

There seem to be two categories of thought: those that want to hide and perpetuate themselves, and
those that are motivated by love and a desire to understand.

Yes, the thoughts in the second category are motivated by the desire to know the truth and by a love of
the truth. There is a marked difference, because thoughts that desire the truth already have about them
a quality of joyfulness and peace.

And those thoughts are willing to give themselves up?

Yes. They are looking for the way to give themselves up, which is through understanding, which in
turn leads to fulfillment. These thoughts never come twice in the same way; they return from a
slightly different angle because the understanding of the previous thought has eliminated some trash
from the mind.

It’s almost as if the love thoughts dissolve the mind.

Yes, they dissolve the belief systems that had created the false knowledge, in particular the arrogant
belief, “I know something, I know things.” All I know is, “I am” and “There is something rather than
nothing.” That’s all we know and all we can know; the rest is speculation.

Is there any relationship between the two kinds of thought, the fear thoughts and the love thoughts? It
seems as if they exist in the same mind.

Exactly. It is the same mind but each category of thought comes from a different source. The fear
thought comes from the past, from memory. It is the continuation of the thought-feeling, “I am a
separate entity”. This I-thought or I-feeling that “I am a separate entity” is the tree trunk, and the
thoughts that come from the past are the branches. The thought that seeks the truth comes
spontaneously from the sky, out of thin air. It is new and not from the past. It liberates and brings joy.
That’s why I say, “Follow your bliss” which also means, “Follow your interest.” When you are a truth
lover, you don’t need to focus or concentrate on the truth or on God; you let God do that for you. It is
Her love that is focusing you whenever there is a thought about truth. It is not you-as-a-person having
it, it is God thinking of Herself.

So it’s the same mind; it is simply that at times it is used by fear and desire and at other times it is used
by God.

In India they say that it is the wind that moves the clouds in front of the sun, and it is the same wind
that takes them away. The wind is the mind. It is the mind that has made the mess, and it is the same
mind that sorts it out. This enlightened reasoning is very well recognized in Indian philosophy. They
even have a name for it: Vidya Vriti. The Indian sage, Atmananda Krishna Menon, called it “higher
reasoning.” It is important to recognize higher reasoning within ourselves, because a common
misunderstanding of the path is to crush all thoughts and questions—a rather brutal approach.
Whether or not you speak about the truth, in satsang for example, depends on your intention.
When you do speak, if your intention is with the divine, with God, then there is a special quality: it is
higher reasoning that has the value of silence. But if you crush your thoughts and questions in order
to reach silence, you will get a very different kind of silence: just a temporary cessation of mental
activity that has no value because it has no perfume, no juice.
Be with what appears. Sometimes we think and sometimes we don’t, sometimes we move and
sometimes we don’t, sometimes we play and sometimes we don’t, sometimes we eat and sometimes
we sleep. If we let this alternation between active and passive states unfold naturally, we are taking our
stand as true changeless presence, which is not an object.

If we have no free will, are we like puppets on a string whose every thought and every action is
manipulated by an unseen God?

Yes, but it’s not an unseen God, because this unseen God doesn’t exist. The string is manipulated by
the totality: by the conditioning, the software and the hardware, and by the current input from the
world that surrounds us, both at the gross level and at the subtle level of thought. At the gross level we
find ourselves in a good or bad mood because of the weather. At the subtle level we find ourselves in
a good or bad mood because somebody has spoken to us nicely or nastily. With all of that there is no
free will.

But does that mean that our body-minds are helpless puppets?

It depends on what we mean when we say “body-mind.” Our body-mind is, ultimately, just a set of
self-perpetuating habits. If you are in your bathtub and you agitate the water, the water keeps moving
for a while by itself; you have created the habit of a certain kind of motion. This body-mind, this set
of habits, is simply atoms and molecules dancing together for a while in a certain way.

But it’s still not clear whether we are totally helpless in the face of these outside factors and our own
conditioning.

You use the phrase, “We are totally helpless.” But to find an answer to this question we must make
sure the question has been framed in an unambiguous way. We need to be clear, when you say “we,”
what “we” means. Does “we” mean the body-mind, this habit or set of habits? If so, what can
meaningfully be said about a set of habits? Being helpless or not is a qualification that doesn’t apply
to a set of habits, which has no life of its own.
If you were addicted to smoking, would you say, “My addiction is helpless”? No. That wouldn’t be
a correct use of language. You would say, “I am helpless in relation to this addiction,” or, “I seem to
be helpless in relation to this addiction.” “I” is the subject but “I” doesn’t refer to the addiction itself.
Similarly, when we say that the body-mind is helpless it is because we are personalizing the body-
mind. But we don’t really mean just the body-mind. We mean that the consciousness-body​mind, as one
single entity, is helpless. But such an entity doesn’t exist; it is only a concept which mixes two
elements: consciousness on the one hand and the body-mind on the other. These elements are as
incompatible as oil and water; they don’t mix.

But our body-mind, in its ignorance, thinks it has the freedom to turn its mind inwards, towards God.

But it is not the body-mind that has this freedom; it is consciousness itself that has this freedom.

But Wendell, a body-mind, thinks he has that freedom. Does he?

Wendell is not a body-mind.

He thinks he is.

This thought that he is a body-mind appears to Wendell, and that to which this thought appears is not a
body and not a mind. That the thought appears to a mind is just a concept. The mind is the thought
which appears. That to which the mind appears, that to which this thought appears, is itself not a
thought, not an object, and that’s Wendell.

But I’m speaking of the Wendell who gets up, eats breakfast, and goes for a walk, who thinks he has the
freedom to turn inwards. That’s the body-mind I’m speaking of.

This Wendell that you are referring to only appears when you think of it, as a concept. When you get
up in the morning you don’t think, “Wendell is getting up.” Because when you think, “Wendell is
getting up,” you are not getting up any longer, you are thinking, “Wendell is getting up.” When
getting up is going on, there is only getting up. When breakfasting is going on, there is only
breakfasting; there is no breakfaster.

Is there a puppet, somewhere there?

There is not even a puppet. This concept, “puppet,” is a device which is used to liberate consciousness
from the body-mind. With this device the body-mind is explained away as being a puppet, but even
that is not our experience.
It is important to understand that, as a person, we are not a doer. The way to understand this, deep
down, is to understand that we do not choose our thoughts and desires. We can then understand that
there is no independent entity to have all these desires; there are only desires. The one to whom and in
whom these desires appear is not something that is perceived; it is not an object, it is not a body, and
not a mind. Therefore, it cannot be a puppet.

***

Even if it is accepted that we are consciousness and that there is only consciousness, I still wonder,
“What is the meaning of the universe?” And then I wonder if this question has any meaning!

We have to go back to the meaning of the word, “meaning.” What is our experience of “meaning”?
When we understand the meaning of something, it is an experience. It is simply the experience of
understanding, right?

It’s a kind of understanding but not a logical thought; I can’t explain it.

Oh, absolutely! It is the same as not being able to argue in favor of something when you see it clearly
as self-evident. Many such understandings are self-evident. Some can be explained with words and
some cannot. There are also aspects of beauty and of love which you cannot explain with words, but
they are still self-evident.
The same applies to our sense of humor: if you try to explain a joke you kill it. A good joke is
self-evident and everybody laughs.

So meaning is self-evident in consciousness?

Meaning is this self-evident quality of consciousness. In fact, meaning happens when a question, or a
sense of something missing, finds its answer in consciousness. Consciousness is, at that moment, the
answer.
So the meaning of the universe (your question) means the dissolution of this manifestation in its
source. The meaning of a thought is the dissolution of the thought in understanding, in its source. The
meaning of the world is the dissolution of the world in its source.

Which is also beauty?

Which is also beauty. The meaning of a thing is the dissolution of the thing which is unknown, or
incompletely known, in knowingness, in its knowing, which is in consciousness.
Two or three weeks ago, the book, Eternity Now, was going to be published in France. I had a
dream and in this dream there came a title, in French, for the book. This title has no direct connection
with the name, Eternity Now and I’m going to have a hard time convincing the French publisher of its
relevance. But it just came out of the blue. The title is poetic in French but not in English; it is Le Sens
des Choses. That means, The Meaning of Things. Weird! But it just came out of the blue.
Before things dissolve in the source they have no meaning, but as they dissolve they acquire
meaning. In other words, as long as the object is present I don’t know it intimately; but when it
dissolves, then I know it. When the thing has disappeared in knowing, what is left is meaning—the
real thing, which is not a thing.

Thank you.

***

I’m also struggling with this question of free will. It has been my experience that I don’t choose
anything or decide anything; thoughts just emerge and if there is a decision to be made I see that some
thoughts come up in favor of one thing and some in favor of the other, and eventually a thought arises
which says, “I’ll go for that.”

But I’m not sure what kind of stance to take towards habits—for instance, bad habits, such as wasting
time watching TV movies. It is my experience that when I make a decision to choose a better course of
action, it doesn’t work. But when I decide that I have no control anyway, and simply indulge my bad
habits, that’s not satisfactory either. So, if I adopt the stance that all thoughts and desires come from
God, or wherever, and I have no con​trol over them, should I then decide nothing, control nothing, and
make no effort to choose anything? Is that the course that you prescribe?

Yes. We simply observe bad habits, with interest, as phenomena, without any judgment or desire to
change or choose. We welcome the totality of the situation. When we do this we are taking our stand
as consciousness, not as a body-mind or limited entity.
The problem is that we are inconsistent and don’t always maintain this stand as consciousness. For
example, at some point a troublesome bad habit arises. Almost immediately, a second old habit comes
up, which is to judge the first habit. And then a third habit arises, which is to judge the totality of the
situation and to conclude, “I was trying this welcoming thing and the welcoming thing is not
working.”
 Of course it is not working! For the very reason that I was not welcoming! And when I say, “The
welcoming thing is not working,” I’m not welcoming. In other words, I have stepped out of the
welcoming stance only to claim that welcoming is not working. But I was already judging and not
welcoming. At that moment I have created a person again, claiming that impersonal action is not
working. I am no longer taking my stand as consciousness.
At this point I would like to say more about free will. We should be clear that it is only from the
vantage point of the person, the body-mind, that we do not have free will—that we are not a doer, a
chooser, a decider. The good news is that the body-mind is not the final authority, not the boss. This is
evidenced by our experience: we have a deep sense of our freedom, of our free will, of our ability to
make spontaneous decisions and receive spontaneous thoughts out of thin air, out of the sky, out of
inspiration. This deep sense of our freedom is authentic, because it comes from the experience of our
true nature. As consciousness hearing these words, right this moment, as this freedom which is non-
localized and intemporal, existing in the timeless, we make all decisions, and we create all thoughts,
all things. As this intemporal presence, we are at the core of nature, of the universe. That which was
before the big bang is still present in us, at the core, as it is in every being, in every existent thing.
This experience of being consciousness, which is so awesome, is overlooked by most people. They
don’t understand that it is the experience through which we remain in the pre-big-bang state—through
which we remain at the center of all things.
There are two sides to our experience: the external side of objects, of phenomena, which is in time
and which is a show; and the eternal, timeless side which is inside and which has always existed. We
could call the latter the side of “ultimate reality.” We have never lost touch with the ultimate reality of
things because, even as a thing, we know our center, our own true nature. And that always is and
always will be present, because it is not in time.

***

You were saying, previously, that the meaning of objects is in their dissolution. So I began to wonder,
what is the meaning of objects which have not yet dissolved? What is the meaning of not
understanding?

There is a misunderstanding here. It relates to the dissolution of objects. Instead of using the word
“understanding,” I should have used the word “knowing.” When we know something, that which is
known, or becomes known, is dissolved in knowing, or “knowingness.” When we know a thought, the
meaning of a thought, the thought is no longer present. The thought has dissolved in its meaning,
which is consciousness, which is knowingness. And then we say, “I know the thought, I understand.”
In the case of thought, we say, “I understand.” But in the case of an external object that we
perceive, the process happens with astonishing speed. When we know it, the object is no longer
present as such.

Well then, to rephrase my question, what is the purpose of not knowing, why did all this come about to
start with: consciousness knowing itself but choosing not to know itself?

Your question assumes that something is true and then asks, “Why is that so?” But in fact there is no
such thing. Your question is, “Why is there ignorance?” It presupposes that there is ignorance and it
presupposes that there is someone who is ignorant. But if we investigate, we discover that there has
never been anybody ignorant and there has never been ignorance. The ignorance is created by the
question. When we ask the question, “Why is there ignorance?” there is the ignorance, right there in
the question. It is the very question that muddies the waters and creates the illusion.
You were referring to the past, to past ignorance. Ignorance never exists in the present; it is
always in the past or in the future. If you will allow me to go off on a tangent, those of us who like to
read Indian Sanskrit texts often find a particular adjective which is applied to ignorance, which is
usually translated as “without a beginning,” ignorance which has never had a beginning. I can’t recall
the exact Sanskrit word.
If you consider the etymological sense of this adjective there is another possible interpretation
which is “ignorance which doesn’t exist in the present,” “ignorance which cannot be found in the
present.” I think that is what was meant by the ancient teachers. They didn’t mean that ignorance
doesn’t have a beginning, which is meaningless; they meant that if you look for it you won’t find it.
You can only assume that there is ignorance and it is this very assumption that creates it. But if you
look for it there is no such thing.

I’m going to circle around it. Why do these assumptions exist?

Ask yourself the question. Don’t ask me. Ask yourself, “Why am I attached to these assumptions?”
There is no good reason. That is what I have been telling you; there is no good reason for it. Since
there is no evidence and there is no valid reason to hold them, I wonder why you cling to them?
That’s why I’m giving the question back to you.

Yet it happens, it happens.

It is happening right now! Somehow you are bringing it up again and again. This very process of
bringing it up again and again is the maneuver that you use to escape the now—you see what I mean?
Just return to the now and ask, “Is there such a thing, right now, as ignorance? Or am I bringing up
the past, and past experience?” And remember that past experience is not real. The true question is, “Is
there ignorance now?”

No, not now.

So just stay there.

But there can be no questions at all from there.

I’m not asking for questions! I don’t dodge them but I don’t need them to be happy.

But most of what we’re doing tonight is coming from these assumptions.

Yes, of course.

And it seems to me that at some time or other, consciousness, which is the source, decided to make
these assumptions and pose the questions that follow from them. Why? What’s that about?

I’m not complaining about your questions, they’re good questions, I like them. But my answers
are good answers too!

Deathless

Sometimes I listen to reason and sometimes I’m guided by my feelings, but I never feel totally satisfied.
How can I reach a state where I know that I’m doing the right thing?

If there is dissatisfaction, it is because “me-as-a-person” is present. My attachment to the belief that
this person is what I truly am has the effect of dividing the situation into two categories: that which is
in my interest, and that which is against my interest. From this vantage point there is always conflict,
because opposing interests can never be reconciled. A decision that benefits the “me” will
disadvantage the “not me”; one that advantages the “not me” will feel as a loss to the “me.” Thus any
decision arising from this fictitious separation between the “me” and the “not me” will fail to satisfy.
A decision informed by the awareness of truth is quite different. It is a fair decision, flowing from
the totality of the situation, where we try to find and serve the common good.
If you are asking me how to do this we must first of all have the right intention. If we do not intend
to be fair we will never be fair, and we will suffer the consequences of our unjust actions.
Assuming that we have the right intention, how do we go from there? Observe the situation in its
totality. Do not impose onto this situation a repetitive response that comes from past situations. Each
situation is new and each response has to be tailor-made, allowing the facts to speak for themselves.
Contemplate and investigate the situation from the vantage point of impersonality, which means
taking a God’s-eye view and being fair to all parties concerned.
Moreover, don’t jump to conclusions and impose a ready-made response when the perfect
response has as yet to emerge. When a quick response is necessary, the need for quick action will be
obvious; but, in most cases when we move with haste, we are simply pampering an ego that is
uncomfortable with the idea that it doesn’t understand the situation and doesn’t know what to do.
Usually a proper understanding of the situation cannot be reached until a crucial, missing element is
revealed and everything falls into place. We can then be confident that we understand the situation and
that we are taking the right action.
Finally, we should seek agreement between our heart and our reason, trying to act in a way that
satisfies both our intelligence and our sense of love. If our reason tells us to go to the left and our
emotions tell us to go to the right, we can expect trouble. We should be prepared to review the
situation a second time—indeed as many times as necessary—until our heart and reason are in
agreement. If agreement is still not reached, follow your heart, but know that it is dangerous.

You spoke about a split between the “me” and the “not-me.” Is that the split between logic and
emotions?

No. This sense of separation between the “me” and the “not-me” arises from the belief that I am a
person. If you examine this belief you will find an emotional content and a conceptual content. Both
interfere with the situation, creating division and discord, and preventing the emergence of decisions
that come from and lead to truth, love, and beauty.
When we find the real resolution we somehow know it. It feels right. It is similar to finding the
last missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle; it doesn’t only match up on one side, it matches everywhere and
we know it’s right.

It is that sense of certainty that I’m missing.

Have you never experienced that in the course of your daily life, that you have done the right thing?
Come now.

Well, I really have to say that almost every decision I make feels unsatisfac​tory. I always wonder,
“How would it have turned out if I had taken another track?”

It is quite conceivable that when you make the right decision the ego feels frustrated. So don’t worry
about the ego being disturbed. Let it kick and scream. Don’t give it any comfort.

So making the right decision won’t necessarily make the ego happy?

Usually it doesn’t, but eventually the reward is sweet and we are tremendously happy that we took the
right path. In retrospect, life gives us its seal of approval. We become aware of the obstacles we
would have encountered if we had taken the wrong path.
In wisdom there are two parts: the obvious and the hidden. When our decision comes from this
impersonal source, in the best of all cases we see immediately why it is best for everyone, including
ourselves. We see that our real happiness lies not in our private advantage but in our shared well-
being. But there are other cases where, when we act from the impersonal source, there are parts of the
situation which are still hidden from us and we don’t immediately appreciate the benefits of doing the
right thing. It is only later that the whole picture is revealed, and from that comprehensive viewpoint
we are able to see what suffering we have been spared.

Whenever I detect the onset of change in my life, I duck; I panic. But when​ever change has happened
the results have been greatly beneficial, so I know that this ducking reflex is unfounded. But the panic
still happens.

It is beautiful that you are aware of this habit; it means that it is possible for you to offer it to
consciousness so consciousness can take care of it.
When we are deeply immersed in the source these reactions are dampened. For example, if we are
in deep meditation and there is an unexpected noise outside, it is seen to be coming from us and is
integrated without reaction. If the meditation is not as deep, we will have a reaction in the body. I am
not talking about an intellectual explanation after the fact; it happens at an experiential level: you feel
that it is you and not an external event.
So, the answer to this non-question is to immerse yourself deeper and deeper into the source. In
any event, if such reactions happen it doesn’t matter, it is not a big deal. It doesn’t mean that one is not
enlightened or not spiritual; it just happens. Sometimes little things seem to trigger this kind of
reaction while major events leave us unaffected.

Absolutely! Somehow, big things have never been a problem; that’s why the impact of little things is so
surprising.

My teacher used to tell me that when one was very advanced in meditation, reactions would no longer
occur. But one day a surprising thing happened. My teacher was very refined and gentlemanly in his
conduct—he never used coarse language, for example. One day he was feeding the goldfish in the
pond in his backyard and he fell into the pond and struck his shin against the stone edging. And he
said, in French, “Shit!”

Usually, my teacher was extraordinarily indifferent to his personal misfortune; but there is nothing
wrong with showing some human frailty from time to time.

***

You were talking about striving for an agreement between the heart and the head. I would imagine that
when the higher self appears the head just can’t know because it’s beyond the head.

By “head” I was referring to reason, to intelligence, not to the mind. When we see something clearly
and understand, this understanding comes from a higher place, from consciousness. This is higher
reasoning.
On the other hand, not everything that is felt at the level of the heart comes from a higher place.
Often what is felt refers to the well-being of a person. That’s why it is important that the heart and
reason be in agreement. If only reason is involved the experience is too dry; if only the heart, it is too
wet. A good balance is needed.

I don’t see how that corresponds to your description of the method of making decisions only after a
thorough investigation. That seems to imply a mental or personal process.

You can certainly explore a situation in a logical fashion; that’s part of it. If a situation is purely
factual and requires a purely factual decision you use the mind only.

And if it is more than a purely factual matter, is the process then more like intuition?

Well, you want everything to come together. If you design a house, for example, you want it to be
beautiful and you also want it to stand up. So you have to take the middle road.

Well, I don’t know about the house metaphor, but previously you were talk​ing about having a God’s-eye
view. That seems to be beyond the capacity of the small mind.

The small mind can only explore the situation and then stand silently at the threshold of
consciousness, waiting for the answer to come. This answer may be an intellectual understanding. But
ideally there is a dimension of love and a dimension of beauty, with a conviction that this is indeed the
answer.

***

The other day you said that we love to be a personal self. Why is that?

It is great fun to be a body-mind: to go into the world, to make a living, to have children, to become
powerful. The desire arises to make this journey and experience this adventure. We-as​consciousness,
acting out of our freedom, want to do it. And eventually we discover that it is not as much fun as we
thought it would be and we stop doing it. That’s the end of the story.
This exploration of ignorance is the same as our behavior on a smaller scale. We tend to explore
an object until we grow tired of it and have sucked all the juice out of it. We can see babies doing it; it
is their natural behavior. The difference between the exploration of ordinary objects and the
exploration of ignorance is that the latter takes more time to explore because the ego is a wonderful,
complex, and fascinating toy.

So, you are saying that consciousness is having fun, through the person, through ignorance. I can see
what you mean, and I agree that it can be fun. But when I contemplate the extremes of ego-activity,
such as genocidal ethnic cleansing, I find it very difficult to accept that it is all simply a play of con​-
sciousness.

Then call it a display.

Even if I call it a display, the mind wants to see only certain aspects of what is happening. I can see
that if one looks at the totality it takes on a different appearance, but when I see innocent people being
killed in the thousands I just fall into a hole.

What’s the difference between that and an earthquake?

An earthquake is a natural event whereas mass killing . . .

So is Milosovic. He’s not made of plastic. Milosovic is a natural event.

But in a war it is the clash of egos that causes the damage: “This is my country against your country,
so I’m going to kill you.” That is difficult for the mind to accept, if I may say so.

It’s difficult for intelligent people to accept, but intelligent people have to accept that not everyone is
intelligent. You want a world in which everyone is intelligent, but then you would want a world in
which there are no mosquitoes, no viruses, and only beautiful flowers, a world where the temperature
is fixed at seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit and snow never falls.

I wouldn’t want the skiers to miss out.

Aha! You see, nothing is ever perfect! It is not that I don’t understand your point of view. Let’s just say
that genocidal ethnic cleansing defies reason.
Milosovic is not an intelligent man. Hitler was not intelligent according to the way we use the
word intelligence here. Nor did they have a connection to their hearts. So what we see in them are
examples of what happens when we allow this fascination with being a person to last for too long and
overpower our reason and our heart. It gives us an example of what not to do.

From the point of view of humanity as a whole, this lesson is not being learned. We keep doing the
same thing.

At the level of humanity as a whole it is a long process of evolution. Let’s hope for the best. Why be
chained to the past?

***

It made a lot of sense to me when you said that Hitler, for example, didn’t choose to have the
particular thoughts and feelings that prompted his actions.

As a person he didn’t make those choices.

Yes, and if I apply it to my case, or perhaps we should say this case, there is no control over the
thoughts and emotions that arise. And using that approach, there is no control over the intensity of this
quest. There is no con​trol over when, if ever, a certain veil will be lifted. There is no control over what
level of commitment will be brought to this quest. I’m not quite sure where this is leading. If there is no
control there is nothing to . . .

. . . to worry about.

On the other hand, you said some time ago that, although the ego kicks and screams, sometimes we
make a decision to act for the higher good. This seems to indicate that we do have some choice.

Yes, but when we make this choice we make this choice as intelligence, as consciousness, not as a
person. This is the enlightened choice and the enlightened choice never comes from the person.
Moreover, an enlightened choice never judges a person, as this would create a person where no
person exists. When we judge a person it means that we have set aside our intelligence and
understanding. That’s why Ramana Maharshi never said anything bad about anybody. A murderer
came to the ashram and the only comment that Ramana made was that he was very clean, because he
used to wash himself several times a day. He said something positive about the guy.

Among the people here in this room there is a tremendous amount of giving.

Yes, they are intelligent people.

By contrast, my own selfishness becomes glaringly obvious. But sometimes it will suddenly occur to me
to alter my usual behavior and I find that it brings benefits that I hadn’t expected. And it feels like I’m
making a choice.

Yes, here again that is a choice that comes from your intelligence. When we make a choice out of
love or understanding, it is never the person who chooses because the person never loves and never
understands. It is important to know what is happening when we have a thought which is spontaneous,
when we have a feeling which comes from love, when we have a desire that goes toward beauty. We
have to be able to recognize that these come from this higher place in us, otherwise we will put that
which is the best in us on an equal footing with that which comes from the past. The practice of
discrimination is precisely this: the ability to recognize that which comes from our freedom, from the
higher source.
We should have a high notion of ourselves, not of ourselves-as​persons, but of our higher selves.
We should have great respect for love and intelligence and beauty as it manifests through us. This is
our natural dignity as opposed to acquired dignity.

So that natural dignity is the higher self, which is pure consciousness.

Yes, it is a quality that shines in human beings when they are in touch with their higher selves. It is a
mixture of the highest humility and a great natural dignity. The humility comes from the complete
absence of the person, and the dignity has two sources: firstly, there is an ability to recognize this
higher source and the ability to recognize the decisions, or intuitions, that come from it; and secondly
there is the ability to stand up for this higher source, to serve it, to be a soldier for it, in the best
possible sense of that word soldier.

Doesn’t that imply choice?

Here there is choice. Every time something comes from our freedom there is choice. We can assert
the freedom or we can assert the opposite. As consciousness, we can choose the path of ignorance or
the path of truth. That is our innate freedom. But once we have ignorance, we have lost our freedom
for as long as we continue to identify with the body-mind.

It seems that in the course of a day there are a million moments when you can go in one direction or
the other.

Yes. The path of action, what is known in India as Karma yoga, is the path in which you do your best
to choose the impersonal action at every point where alternatives are presented. And that becomes
possible the moment that you are not personally attached to the outcome of the action.

Or, if there is personal attachment you let it kick and scream?

Yes, you just leave your fears and desires unfulfilled, kicking and screaming in their room, with their
toys. Don’t obey their dictates.

We often hear the expression, “He’s a good person.” Does it follow, then, that if we look at things from
the point of view that you describe, there are no per​sons?

If you say, “He’s a good person,” what you really mean is, “There is no person.”

OK, all right, there is no person. But in our daily language we say things like, “He’s a good person, he
gives to charities and he behaves in other admirable ways.” Is that sort of behavior ego-driven?

It depends. I would have to know this person in order to tell whether there is a person or whether the
giving is being done by nobody.

But the true good, or that higher quality of good, only comes from the source, true?

Yes, if I give to charity in order to be elected to the position of mayor of the town, I’m not really
giving. But if I give solely out of true compassion, that’s different. Then it’s impersonal.

***

You said something that I find slippery: that consciousness has freedom but the individual has only a
false idea that he is free.

The feeling of our freedom is a true feeling; it is the feeling of our true nature. That’s why we cannot
deny it. When we are told that there is no free will we become puzzled. And it is puzzling because we
have a deep sense of freedom, we have a deep sense of choosing. We also have a deep sense of
thinking. It seems obvious that our thoughts are ours and we create them. And all that is true. From the
vantage point of impersonal consciousness we have this freedom and we are that out of which the
thoughts arise. So this feeling is legitimate but only from the vantage point of consciousness, of
absolute consciousness. When we limit consciousness to a body-mind this feeling loses its legitimacy
and is false.

Does that mean that anytime we make a truly unselfish choice, we are acting from our higher self?

Yes.

That seems pretty simple.

***

Francis, it is sometimes difficult to know whether a decision is made by con​sciousness or by
ignorance. Maybe this is only my problem, but I sometimes find it difficult to know where it’s coming
from. How can you tell?

The general answer is, “If there is no belief in a personal entity involved in the decision, either as a
concept or as a feeling, if it is not done for the sake of me as personal consciousness, and if what I am
seeking is not my personal advantage but the common good, then the decision is coming from
consciousness and not the ego.”
Of course, as a body-mind, I will ultimately benefit, but I don’t know that yet.

***

Can a right decision ever originate from ignorance, or is that an oxymoron?

A decision that comes from ignorance is a prolongation of the past. It is the continuation of a past
thought. It is a continuation of a mistake and for this reason it has no legitimacy. Sooner or later the
bluff will be called and there will be a price to be paid. The later the bluff is called, the higher the
price.

So let’s consider the case that I raised earlier, where someone is making a donation to a charity and
there is ego involved. A lot of people benefit from this action, in spite of the motivations of the donor.

Yes, a lot of people will benefit from the donation, but the donor will not benefit at all.

***

Some time ago you were talking about actions which result in great suffering, thousands of people
being killed. From the perspective of a separate person that is certainly a problem, but is it also a
problem from the perspective of absolute consciousness?

We have to be practical: if there is something that we can do about the situation then we will do it. But
we have to bear in mind that our mission is not to save the world. The world is big and we are small
and frail human beings. Our mission is to discover genuine happiness and then, when we have
discovered it, allow it to overflow and share itself, in an entirely natural fashion, with the rest of the
world.
We have to see that if we act from arrogance or megalomania, although we might like to think of
ourselves as trying to save the world, the chances of our actually doing any good are infinitesimally
small. The history of the world is full of tyrants who thought that they were saving it. Napoleon,
Stalin, Lenin, and Hitler, who had no connection with what we refer to here as intelligence, genuinely
believed that they were giving something to the world.
From the perspective of higher reasoning, my feeling is that the ones who have given most to the
world were the great sages and the great artists, rather than those who felt that they had a mission to
save the world. There were people who were not widely known in their lifetimes who nonetheless
exerted a great influence for good. There were many more whose names are not found in the
historical record. Although, they have been forgotten, the intelligence and love that they released into
the world is still reaching us.
Our true gift to the world is to be a source of love and clarity, and to recognize that to be this
source one has to know oneself intimately. This doesn’t seem to be an efficient approach, but it’s
actually the most efficient.

What I’m really wanting to know is whether there is a viewpoint from which the world is as it should
be?

Yes. It is as it should be at every moment. This doesn’t mean that, out of this intelligence that we talk
about here, we don’t have any intimation of something to do to make it better. And if such an
intimation comes to us then we have to follow our intuition. I’m not preaching passivity.

But is it really the case that the world is as it should be?

Yes, absolutely. Right action in the world has two aspects. On the one hand there is the core feeling, “It
doesn’t really matter; the outcome is irrelevant. This action is taken simply for the sake of beauty, or
justice, or love, or truth.” On the other hand we are totally involved in the action, so involved that
there is no room for fear to gain a foothold. And this kind of total and fearless involvement gives an
action the power that makes it as effective as it can possibly be, given the circumstances.
Sometimes there are actions which, although we regard them as failures at the time, produce, in
the long term, tremendous benefits which we could not have possibly foreseen. By contrast, it can
happen that actions that come from ignorance and not the source will have immediate results that tell
us we have been successful; it is only later that we come to see that our actions have brought more
suffering than happiness.

I’m still trying to see how actions like killing fit into a situation which you could say is just the way it
ought to be.

In regard to killing, there is something that we should all examine in ourselves. Note what happens to
our judgment about killing the moment we understand that nobody does the killing, so there is no
killer; that death is a natural phenomenon; and, most important, we are deathless.

So this discussion arises because we are accustomed to seeing things from a personal viewpoint?

This discussion is a new version of the Bhagavad Gita. It is the Gita brought up-to-date. All the
warriors on the battlefield, ready to go into battle, were already dead. They could not be killed, they
were already dead. “That which is, never ceases to be; that which is not, never comes into being.”

Let the Moment Flow

I have seen the word presence defined in many different ways: sometimes as an aspect of
consciousness, sometimes as the present awareness of what is. At other times it seems to be something
which can almost be quantified or measured—which seems pretty ridiculous to me. So what is the
Franciscan definition of presence?
I use the word as a synonym of consciousness. Let’s distinguish “present” from “presence.” The
present moment always escapes us; we can never catch it. It is a concept: a zero-length time interval
between past and future. These three aspects of time—past, present and future—appear in presence.

Simultaneously?

No. Actually, there is no time. Time is artificially created by memory. But, first a word about
simultaneity.
In our real experience there is always non-duality. This means that there can never be two events.
If we are the witness of two events which are said to be simultaneous, these two events have to merge
into one single event, which will be one with consciousness, with presence. This could be called “real
simultaneity” or “experienced simultaneity.” “Conceptual simultaneity,” on the other hand, is not an
experience and it is not real. It arises after the fact and is a rewriting of history.
For example, I might say, “While I was in California eating my dinner you were already asleep in
Canada.” My eating dinner and your being asleep in Canada are seen as “simultaneous” through a
concept about what has happened in the past. It could also be noted that “succession” is even more
thoroughly conceptual.
It is very hard for the mind to understand intemporality or timelessness, because the mind,
through thought, works in time. From the vantage point of time it is very difficult to understand that
which is timeless. The best way to understand it is through the metaphor of the night dream. I can
understand that while I am in a night dream a certain measurement of time elapses, for example two
years, but when I wake up I realize that the whole dream only lasted a few moments. This helps me
understand the illusion of time, because I can see, when I wake up, that the time in the dream was
illusory.
The conventional understanding is that while the time in the dream, the two years, is an illusion,
the time within which the dream happened, the few moments, is not an illusion. But in fact, the
relationship between timelessness and time-in-the-waking-state is the same as the relationship between
time-in-the-waking-state and time during a dream at night.
To understand intemporality, replace the few moments within which the dream occurred with
presence, or timelessness, and replace the two years that elapsed in the night dream with any
experience which happens in the time and space of the waking dream. In other words, every time we
go back to presence we go back to something which is timeless. We go back to something which
creates the illusion of time but which is itself outside of time. While it is something from which the
apparent movement of time can be observed, it itself does not move with time. It is a different
dimension, just as the waking dream belongs to a dimension which is different from that of the night
dream.
The big difference between the waking dream and the night dream is that in the night dream only
one mind is involved, the mind which is creating the dream. Although I interact with other people in
the night dream, I have access to only one mind. But the waking dream is a multi-minded dream. As
consciousness, we have access to all minds but as consciousness we choose to become oblivious to
what is going on in the other minds in order to completely enjoy the experience of this mind. And if
you think about it, that is exactly what takes place during a night dream. In a night dream we can be
surprised by an unexpected turn of events but the fact is that we are creating these events, within our
mind. For example, it can happen in a night dream that a door suddenly opens, a new player enters,
and I receive a shock. But I have created it, in my mind! So why am I surprised and even possibly
afraid? It is because I have forgotten that I am creating it.
The spiritual value of the night dream is that it enables us to understand what illusion is. I am not
saying that this waking dream is the same thing as a night dream; obviously it isn’t. But I am making a
tremendously profound statement: that this con​sciousness, this ordinary consciousness which is
hearing these words, is beyond time.
On reflection, you will see that this accords with common sense. Consider the innermost essence
of the universe, that from which everything is made. Now consider the phenomenon of mind. Mind is
not unrelated to the universe; mind is a phenomenon which appears within the universe. So it makes
sense that the essence of mind is the same as the essence of this universe.
From the vantage point of physics it is commonly accepted that the reality behind this universe is
timeless, but we have a hard time accepting that the reality which is behind this mind is timeless. It
shouldn’t really be so difficult. Since this mind is part of the universe, the reality which is behind this
mind has to be the same as that which stands behind this universe.
Through consciousness we have direct access to that which is desperately sought by the physicist
and the biologist. Their efforts are fruitless because they are looking in the external world. Recently,
a friend of mine observed that, whatever science we consider, the central topic of the science remains
forever out of reach. Biologists don’t know exactly what life is. Physicists don’t know what matter is.
Philosophers never find out what truth is. That for which they are looking is at the very core of their
being and cannot be found where they are looking—outside.

In that case, is there any point to their endeavors?

Oh yes, it’s great fun. Science is an art form, and it’s also useful. In the relative realm it’s very
interesting.

***

You said that, in the waking dream, consciousness chooses to forget that it has access to all minds. So,
if I am consciousness and I am universal and all pervading, why is it that when I wake up in the
morning consciousness is stuck to this one body-mind?

That seems to be the case, just as, during a night dream, your mind seems to be stuck to one specific
body and has no access to the minds of the other characters in the dream. But when you wake up you
understand that your mind must have been behind every character in the dream, because it was your
mind that was creating the whole dream. Similarly, in the case of the living dream, at some point you
realize that your consciousness is behind all of the objects in the waking dream, as the creator, the
sustainer, and the destroyer of these objects.

I have a hard time understanding this. What seems real to me is that, in what you call “this waking
dream,” in this room for example, everybody has his own private thoughts. No one has access to the
thoughts of all.

Consider the ability of our mind, in the course of a night dream, to forget that it is creating the entire
dream, the other people we are meeting, and creating all the events that are occurring. While we are
subject to the night dream, everything seems to be real. If we see a tiger, we are afraid because we
don’t know that we are creating the tiger. If we knew that we couldn’t possibly be afraid, could we?
This demonstrates that an illusion can seem to be quite real while we are subject to it, even though,
when we become aware of its illusory nature, we understand that it was we who were creating it all
along. This is the tremendous power of Maya, which is the ability to create this illusion.
The night dream is created by the mind; the waking dream is created by Maya. It is created by
consciousness in a playful manner that makes it seem utterly real. This world, which seems to be real,
is a well orchestrated dream.

I don’t wake up to a new dream each morning; I wake up to a continuation of the ongoing drama.

Oh yes, there is a high level of consistency in the waking dream. But if you reflect for a moment you
will see that there are also some elements of consistency in the night dream. There is much less
consistency but it still possesses organization; it is not just random stuff.
In this dream made of matter the components fluctuate at a much lower frequency than that which
prevails in the realm of the mind, and this makes them seem more durable.

***

Every morning, we all wake up from the night dream. Will we all wake up from the day dream?

We do wake up, but we say, “Aaah, this is too early, let’s go back to sleep. Let’s play a bit more, let’s
dream a bit more.” In the waking dream of matter the components fluctuate at a much lower
frequency than that which prevails in the realm of the mind during the night dreams. This makes the
former seem more durable.

When I’m dreaming at night it rarely happens that I become aware that I’m dreaming and want to
wake up. But this does happen during the waking dream.

Recognize that it is before you have the wish to wake up that you are awake, because as soon as you
start wanting things to be different, you fall asleep again. If you want things to be different from the
way they are, you are taking things seriously and granting reality to the dream. At that moment you
go back to sleep. So don’t try to wake up. Instead understand that you are perfectly awake at all times.
It is a common mistake to think that, once there is a deep understanding of the truth, things will be
different—that the dream will go away and be replaced by a brand-new dream with a different story.
What actually happens is that this dream continues; the Maya doesn’t change. The difference is that
now we know Maya to be Maya, we know it to be a dream in which the body and the mind are
involved. The dream becomes a lucid dream, but it doesn’t go away. Often people think, “There can’t
be a deep understanding of the truth because the content of the dream hasn’t changed.” But the content
of the dream doesn’t change; all that changes is that we know that this is an illusion, or in other words
that it is not the ultimate reality of what we are. Then everything becomes playful, because the content
of the dream, at any particular point, doesn’t matter. Or, it only matters in the way that the score
matters when we are playing a game of tennis. We pretend it matters but it doesn’t really matter. We
pretend it matters in order to play the game, but ultimately we don’t care.
 The reason that we love to play games is that they remind us of the big game of life. The reason
that we like to watch comedies is that they remind us of the great comedy of life. What is drama to the
ignorant is comedy to the sage.

***

Francis, when all is said and done . . .

Whatever that means.

. . . is not the whole ball game simply to still the mind and live in the present moment?

It is just to live in the present moment. If the mind is not still it means that there is something yet to be
said and perhaps something still to be done. It follows that when all is said and done, the mind is still
and we are in the present moment.

I’m not sure whether you’re agreeing with my concept or not.

What I mean is that it is enough to be in the present moment. There is no need to still the mind; let the
mind do whatever the mind does.

Can you be in the present moment if your mind is thinking about last night’s movie?

You are always in the present moment. Just know it. Let the mind do whatever it wants and take a
holiday from the mind. You are not married to the mind. Divorce it! Let it chatter and indulge in its
melodrama while you enjoy the contentment of your aloneness.

But if my mind is involved with these unrelated thoughts, can I still be in the present moment?

Yes. The moment you are simply witnessing the chatter of the mind, without fuelling it, without taking
it for real, you are in the present moment.

***

If I say that consciousness chooses to experience the happiness of knowing itself through one
particular body-mind and not through another, is that an accurate statement?

I don’t think so. I would say that consciousness chooses to experience happiness through all body-
minds; it chooses to live all possibilities: to be the bad guy and the good guy and everything in
between, all at once. Of course, consciousness doesn’t just create the human actors; it also creates the
animals and the insects and all the sets, the earth, the rivers, the mountains and anything else you care
to name. It is a big game.

I am still unclear. I understand that this particular human mind is unable to create this drama, and
also that it is unable to dissolve it, but is it able to invite consciousness?

No, the mind cannot invite consciousness. The mind can only receive an invitation from
consciousness. The beggar cannot invite the king, but the king can invite the beggar. A beggar doesn’t
have the means to entertain the king properly, but the king can make a beggar welcome in his palace
without even noticing the cost.

Well then, if you say, “Let God into your heart,” you are not talking to the body-mind, you are talking
to consciousness. You are saying to con​sciousness. . .

“Be open to yourself.”

But consciousness already is. This is where I’m confused.

Sometimes it forgets, so I say, “Be open to yourself.” It plays the game of forgetting and it plays the
game of remembering; it plays the game of reminding and it plays the game of being reminded. It
plays all the games, just as you do in your dreams.

I realize that when you talk to me I tend to think of consciousness as . . .

. . . as mind.

Yes, as mind, but there is something else. I tend to think that each mind has its own private
consciousness, so that there are as many consciousnesses as there are minds. This would allow one
consciousness to remember itself while another is lost in forgetfulness. Or, consciousness has
remembered itself in this case while it has forgotten itself in that case.

The second formulation is correct—consciousness plays all the games, it calls all the shots. Consider
the case of someone whom we might call ignorant, someone who isn’t at all interested in the truth.
From the vantage point of a lover of truth, it would seem that this person is in a lot of unnecessary
suffering. He doesn’t experience what you experience, he doesn’t know what you know, he doesn’t
seek what you seek. But if you put yourself in his shoes and see things from his vantage point, you
will see that he is doing what he wants to do. He would be utterly bored coming to a retreat like this.
Everybody is doing what he wants to do. All human beings—indeed, all beings— enjoy their freedom
at every moment. Out of respect for this freedom of consciousness to enjoy itself in many different
ways, a true teacher doesn’t want to convert anyone.
Christian theology expresses it this way: God loves us so much, and loves our freedom so much,
that He has endowed us with the freedom to sin.
From our so-called “enlightened” point of view, we see others as “unenlightened” and therefore
lacking. But that is a limited perspective because we still see “other people”; we don’t see the global
playfulness of this freedom.
This freedom is similar to that enjoyed by a first-class actor when he practices his art. He will
want to portray all sorts of characters, good guys and bad guys. If he is not a real actor then he will
only want to portray sympathetic characters and heroes, so that he can be a celebrity off-stage. But a
first-class actor will find it a great challenge to portray an unsympathetic character, someone evil.
There is something else that needs to be clarified. It is often understood that consciousness can
only know itself through the body of a sentient being, particularly a human being. But consciousness
knows itself by itself, without a body. It is important to distinguish between various teachings in this
regard.
Consciousness knows itself by design, so to speak. The first quality of consciousness is to be
conscious of itself, and only then does it know objects. Before anything is, there is this self-knowing,
what Meister Eckhart calls “Godhead.” He says, “Before God was, before I was, we were together as
Godhead.” This is self-knowing, in which there is nothing to know other than oneself. It is a
preposterous, materialistic position to say that consciousness requires a human body to know itself. It
leaves us in the desperate situation of not being intrinsically connected with consciousness, and of
having to create a connection. It means that this consciousness here, hearing these words, is personal
and separate and dies when the mind dies; that there is a consciousness, somewhere out there, which is
creating the entire cosmos, but I am not an intrinsic part of it, I am not invited to the feast.
To sum up, consciousness knows itself; this consciousness that knows itself is this very
consciousness that is hearing these words, at this moment; and God is present, as this presence, at the
center of our being.

***

When a body-mind disappears, is there anything left? You have said, in the past, that Jean Klein and
Ramana Maharshi are still with us. Do you mean that they are still with us in the sense that their
teachings are still current? Or do you mean that there is something that remains which belongs to
another dimension?

Without referring to other dimensions, the very fact that you are speaking about them now
demonstrates that there is something left.

Yes, as a thought, as a teaching.

When we evoke them, that which is left has the power to take us back to their presence.

To their presence or to the presence?

Their presence is our presence and is eternal. But at the subtle level there is a subtle energy that is still
active after the material body has disappeared. You could call it an energy of thought. That is why,
whenever you speak about a teacher, or anyone else for that matter, there is still a subtle presence
existing.

This brings to mind a Tibetan teaching which I have always had difficulty understanding. The Tibetans
claim that teachers choose to reincarnate in order to help humanity, but if there is no separate ego, no
individuality, what is there to reincarnate?

Robert Adams explained it this way: in Buddhism there are these super Buddhas, called Arhats, who
don’t give a hoot about the world because they have truly understood that it is an illusion. They don’t
take the Bodhisattva vow and don’t reincarnate. The sage for whom all is well, and unfolding as it
should, has no desire to save the world, to come back and save sentient beings. For such a sage there
are no sentient beings, no individuals, only God.
However, in Buddhism there are also Bodhisattvas who reincarnate to save human beings. This is
a beautiful thing. I am not denigrating it, but ultimately it shows that there is still an involvement with
the world.
We have to understand that much of this material is simply religious tradition; it is not the original
teaching of the Buddha. When the great sages of Ch’an Buddhism were teaching they had to pay lip
service to these ideas, otherwise there would be conflict and they would have been persecuted, even
killed. But at the same time they would say things that were very irreverent, such as: “If you see the
Buddha on the path, kill him.” So, if you see Buddhism on the path, kill Buddhism. Just trust your own
understanding of the truth. You were right in your question, but at the same time it is important to
acknowledge that these teachings about Bodhisattvas reincarnating occur in the context of everything
unfolding according to divine inspiration, and that these teachings and customs are a part of that
unfolding.

***

You have said that when you were a student of Jean Klein you reached a point where questions began
to fall away. Can you expand upon that?

The questions fell away because the answers led to understanding and the mind was satisfied. The
satisfaction was not in the answers; it was in the resulting understanding. At this stage there were no
longer any questions concerning the perspective from which everything falls into place. However,
there were still practical questions about how to live from this perspective and transpose this
perspective into daily life. For example: how to understand music, painting, and architecture, how to
view relationships, how to attend to a child’s education, how to understand the body and the realm of
feelings.

What happens to our feelings after deep understanding has arisen?

That’s what we explore not only in our morning body-sensing sessions, but also when we just hang
out together. We have this beautiful feeling of having been gathered together in the presence of truth.
We can experience a truly non-judgmental friendship. There arises a sense of harmony, freedom,
oneness, and a satisfaction deeper than the mental satisfaction that we experience when we understand
something. We go from thinking understanding to being understanding.

Yes, my experience of this is that feelings, which have been very turbulent over the course of my life,
have lost a lot of their disruptive power. Has it been the same with you, that feelings of grief and anger
and the like no longer cause upheavals in your life?

Yes, but you have to understand that anger isn’t necessarily bad. Sometimes it’s very appropriate and
the only way to get your message across.
What is important is to be happy, to live without problems, so that you greet the beginning of each
day with enthusiasm, and the end of each day with satisfaction. There is a moment when you can feel
this happening, and when that moment arrives you no longer care all that much for Advaita and that
sort of stuff. You sense that you have already caught the fish, that you don’t need to worry any more
about the intricacies of lures and the techniques of casting.
Being with my teacher was also a factor in learning how to celebrate. You can learn how to dance
or celebrate on your own, but if you have a teacher you may learn more quickly and go more deeply.
He was a great teacher in this respect. When we dined out, for example, he would always go to the
best restaurants and buy top quality wines. He possessed a remarkable openness to life.
You can detect this openness, or the lack of it, in little things. For example, in the United States
people have living rooms in which they don’t live, dining rooms in which they don’t dine, and
silverware with which they don’t eat. Why would a man or a woman want to do that? I can only guess
that they are conserving all their valuable things so that, after they have died, the members of the
funeral party will gather at their house and admire their pristine furniture and silver, while they stand
around being respectful.
But my teacher wouldn’t have gone along with that, not for a moment. His attitude was, “If you
have silverware, use it; if you have an expensively appointed dining room, dine in it; and if you have
a living room full of valuable furniture, live in it.”
Life is here to be celebrated and enjoyed. We are not here to suffer.

***

Francis, can you go more deeply into what you mean when you advise us to fall in love with the now?

I mean fall in love with your nowing that is the knowing, consciousness, beingness, life itself. It is
your essence—that which is the deepest, the most precious, the dearest to you. The beauty of it is that
if you fall in love with your nowing you are not being an egoist because your nowing is the nowing of
all beings.

It seems that you are saying that falling in love with the now is different from falling in love with the
present moment.

Yes, it is falling in love with presence. The present moment is still an object; it is still something. If
you fall in love with it you remain stuck with an object. If you fall in love with presence, you don’t try
to stop the moment, you let the moment flow because you understand that it doesn’t matter. The more
it flows, the more it establishes you in your presence, your nowing, your knowing. You will sense the
flow of things and become a Taoist. That’s the meaning of the word Tao—the flow.

***

You have spoken about “knowing the thrill of fear.” How can I be open to fear when it arises?

Just try it.

Any tips?

Don’t be busy with fear; be busy with your true nature. Be interested in knowing what you are, in
being with what you are, in falling in love with and abiding in your own presence. Fear is an object,
and being occupied with an object isn’t going to do you any good. Fear is a negative thing. Don’t
worry about the negative, rather stick to that which is true, to your true self. Only from this position
of strength can you overcome fear.

Krishnamurti used to say that you should face the fear, completely and fully. I’m trying to integrate
that with what you just said—be present, be presence.

If fear arises, face it. If it doesn’t, don’t evoke it, leave it alone. If it arises, face it from your presence.

What does it actually mean, “face it from your presence.”

It means, “Use the fear as a reminder of the presence in which it arises.”
Understand that this presence is not personal. See that this fear is simply based on the feeling and
the belief that you are a person. When you see fear in this light it loses its hold over you. Our true
nature is eternal, and that is why fear cannot get a grip on it. If you take your stand as your true nature,
fear cannot attach itself to you.

Does that mean that we should just be the witness of fear?

No. If you try to employ any trick or technique to manipulate the fear it means that you have already
conceded victory to fear by elevating it to a position of importance. Instead recognize the importance
of consciousness, your true nature, and then see what happens to fear. It is a matter of priorities, of
where you put your attention and your love. Just abide in your presence and see what happens to this
fear— even if it shows up again, it is as good as dead.

***

I have observed, in myself, that there is a very fine line between accepting things as they are and
wanting to make things happen. When I accept, presence is there. When I try to change things, I go to
sleep.

If it is within your power to change things, there is no point in simply accepting them as they are
because you think that it is a higher path to leave everything as it is. If you feel your leg going to
sleep, move it around until the circulation is restored. Use your intelligence. Be open to doing
anything that your intelligence and sensitivity prompt you to do. But if, after having done everything
that is within your power, you still want things to change, that’s a different matter. That indicates a
residual refusal to accept the reality of life.

Yes, it seems that I am aware of presence when I can welcome things in their totality.

Yes! We go out of welcoming by welcoming a particular object instead of welcoming the totality. By
crystallizing our welcoming onto a particular thing, we have downgraded our welcoming to
acceptance. In acceptance there is some resignation and an absence of intelligence. In welcoming,
your intelligence is perfectly alive and well and able to dictate the appropriate action; you are fully
present and alert and prepared to take whatever action your intelligence, or your intuition, might
prompt.
When we are truly in welcoming we are completely free, without an agenda. Now, let’s imagine
that something arises that is not fully welcomed. A preference has begun to emerge which we counter
with, “Oh, Francis has said we should welcome it so I will welcome this object.” But there is an
infinity of possible actions that can be taken. Perhaps this object doesn’t deserve to be welcomed.
True welcoming is a welcoming of the situation as it arises in the now, in its totality. There is no
focusing, there are no objects. An object gets created the moment you separate it from the totality,
because you have an agenda and you want to change it. But in fact, when this welcoming is happening
there are no objects, there is no separation, nor is there any subject. There is perfume; there is peace.
In the beginning we oscillate between this perfect welcoming and being involved once again with
an object. We cannot let go of the object by de-focusing the mind because we cannot de-focus the
mind. Rather it is the simple understanding that we were focusing that lets go of the object and
releases the tension. Welcoming is “attention without tension.” It is also meditation; it is nowing.
 In your daily life you learn welcoming as you learn how to surf. You surf the now. You surf the
presence. This is your homework. In the beginning you get dumped, but that doesn’t matter, that’s how
you learn. As long as you refuse to try, you learn nothing; as soon as you begin to try you begin to
learn.

The Law of Surprise

What happens to relationships after some understanding of one’s true nature?

The purpose of any situation, and that includes any relationship, is twofold: to take us to truth, and to
celebrate truth. As long as we believe that we are a separate entity, relationships will be full of
lessons, possibly painful lessons, which will point us towards truth. When we understand that we are
not a person, we see the partner no longer as a person, but as being what we are, in our essence.
However, for this relationship to be a true celebration, this way of seeing has to be mutual. We may be
playing a duet, but if I am playing in tune and my partner is playing a half-tone higher, we will sound
terrible.
When one partner begins to understand who he or she truly is, either the other will evolve in the
same direction, or the gap and ensuing difficulties between them will grow and bring about a drastic
resolution. But it doesn’t always develop that way because people are in relationship for many
reasons. One partner may decide, from a feeling of love and a sense of responsibility, to stay in a
relationship where this deep communion is lacking. But it will be done with eyes wide open, with no
infatuation, with full knowledge of the partnership’s limitations. In this situation, love urges one not
to leave the partner; but if the latter freely decides to leave, that is a different matter.
I would add that we are social beings, and that for most of us— not all of us—it is congenial to be
with others, not only with a lover but also with friends. We experience something that we deeply
desire and need. Ours is a beautiful gathering, because we have come together with open hearts. This
is rare, and we are fortunate to be so blessed. When the truth is shared through understanding alone it
is a small thing; it is only an intellectual agreement with the essential sweetness missing. But when we
share the depth of our experience it is a different matter altogether.

***

It sometimes happens that while I am in the midst of the understanding of my true nature I have a very
strong desire to explore the world of objects and to explore the I-thought. Is this a falling away from
the higher understand​ing?

No, not if your desire for exploration comes from celebration. On the contrary, denying it would be a
problem. It would be a different story if the motivation was fear or personal desire, but if the
motivation was an interest in the truth—and a desire to explore the I-thought never comes from the
ego—then you should certainly do so. Crushing this exploration is crushing the life in you—the spirit
of discovery, interest for its own sake, your highest seeking.
Having said this, it is much better that the question, “What am I?” arise spontaneously and
sincerely twice a day than the whole day be spent in some form of spiritual practice. The most that can
be achieved by years of practice is that God’s heart will be so touched by your effort and sincerity that
the question, “What am I?” will arise in your heart through Her grace.
Enshrine this interest in your heart and know that it comes from grace.

***

In what the sage Atmananda Krishna Menon calls “unconditioned con​sciousness,” you have said that
there is no mind—just awareness. By mind, do you mean just the mind, or the body/mind/world?

I mean, “In the total absence of any perception.”

In my experience I find that, even when I’m deep in meditation, there is never a total absence of
objects.

Yes, because you are trying to understand the total absence of any perception with the mind. You
cannot have any representation or idea of that state. The mind can have access only to an objective
state. At the most it can have access to a blank state, which is still an object. The experiential example
that I usually give is what happens when we understand something, or what happens when we are
touched by love or by beauty. Or what happens when we see that we are conscious. Simply that. It’s a
moment out of time, an experience which has no duration.

It seems so far beyond the mind that any questions about it are not valid.

It is not that far; it is just right behind the mind. There are questions about it and answers about it.

So we’re talking about consciousness without an object.

Yes.

You have said that when the body-mind winds down, and all the doors of perception close, the
inference is that there are no objects.

I said that the inference is that there are no sense objects. Whether the mind actually continues when
the body comes to an end is open to speculation. But it’s an area which I usually don’t go into because
I’m not really interested in exploring the mind. What I’m truly interested in exploring is that which
stands beyond and behind the mind, and beyond and behind the body and the world.

So you’re indifferent to the whole question about whether the mind contin​ues?

Everything we know, we know through the mind. Everything we know is some kind of idea in the
mind—maybe a thought, maybe an image maybe a perception—but everything is an idea, basically,
because everything is experienced in the mind. There is no proof whatsoever that there is any object
outside the mind.
Now, there are many minds. Obviously, when you talk to someone else there are two minds
involved, and if you take a broader view there are millions of minds. Furthermore, we cannot
eliminate the possibility of a divine mind or cosmic mind. But what is essential in every case, what all
these minds have in common, is consciousness.
When we look at the existence and functioning of mind from the viewpoint of consciousness we
have moved to another level. What we have done in this discussion is collapse three categories into
one. Ordinarily we divide reality into three distinct categories: the first is the material world which
contains physical objects; the second is the mental world which contains mental objects— thoughts,
emotions, sensations, ideas, images, perceptions, and so on; the third is consciousness. We have
shown that the category of the material world and all its contents can be absorbed into the category of
the mental world, and the mental world can be absorbed into consciousness. So there are two re-
absorptions in succession. In the first, the gross world is seen as being subtle, made of mind; and in
the second, the mind itself is seen as being consciousness.
When I understand that the gross world is simply a subset of the mental world, the disappearance
of the gross world, that which is perceived through the senses, doesn’t imply the disappearance of the
subtle world altogether. That’s why I said that we couldn’t exclude the possibility that the mind
remains over after the death of the body.

And the gross world was never there?

The gross world is extended or deployed in four dimensions, three dimensions of space and one
dimension of time, and when it is re​absorbed into the subtle world only the dimension of time
remains. So three dimensions collapse into one dimension, and when the mind collapses and
dissolves into consciousness, this last dimension collapses into the timeless.
Conversely, in the unfolding of things, the unfolding happens in the reverse order.

So if you’ve always believed that the gross world gets subsumed into the subtle world, and that’s in
your bones, then it’s an easier step to see the subtle world being absorbed into consciousness.

Yes, you can take these two steps, but you can also go directly to consciousness without taking the
intermediate step of the mind.

Somehow it seems easier for me to take the intermediate step.

Then you can also test this step if you are interested in it, because if you are open to the possibility
that everything is mind, you enter the world of voodoo, or, if you prefer, you could call it the world
of magic. You enter the world in which what you think, and the events which the thoughts refer to, are
deeply connected. And the connection is not just in the sense that if I decide to build a house the house
will conform to my plans—everybody would agree with that—but it exists in a more subtle sense, in
the sense that we can have intimations of that which is going to happen. So you could see it as magic.
The laws of this subtle universe are different from the laws of physics, from the laws of the
physical universe; but there are still laws, including the basic law of causation. But when we go
beyond the subtle aspect, we move from the magical to the miraculous where the law is surprise,
where nothing can be predicted. In other words, if we believe that all there is to reality is mind, and
we don’t distinguish between mind and matter, then the relevant law will be the law of cause and effect
or karma; the events in the world will be magical and will happen in accordance with those laws—
there will be a certain level of predictability to the outcomes. But if we go beyond that, and if we see
everything as consciousness, there is only surprise and marveling at things. Nothing is predictable
any more and there are no laws.

And that fits in with what you say that nothing is predestined from the beginning?

Yes. From the vantage point of the gross world, the natural laws and the natural form of determinism
and evolution apply. From the vantage point of the subtle world, karmic laws apply. But from the
vantage point of consciousness the only law is the law of love.
Look at it this way. Take the case of someone who sees only the mental world, who sees events in
the material world as nothing more than happenings in the mental world—someone, in other words,
who lives in the world of voodoo or magic. That person may be afraid of holding a certain kind of
thought because he would be convinced that holding that thought would bring about some unwanted
event in his life. And his fear would be well grounded; his attachment to mind would bring about the
results that he fears.
But for the sage who is not attached to mind, it is entirely different. His thoughts are not binding,
the only rule is love. If the thoughts come from love they will bring about love, they will manifest
love.

***

I want to be the sage, and be in love and come only from love.

When you want to be the sage, you are the sage. But the sage is not human. When you want to be
human, you become human. When you want to be the sage, you are the sage—you become what you
want.

So maybe I just think I want to be the sage? I do want to be the sage; let’s just leave it at that. I was
reading Robert Adam’s book and he says, “Wake up in the morning and ask, ‘Who am I?’ Don’t answer
it, just ask it, the question itself, that’s it.”

I would say that asking the question every morning is too much. Ask it once and then live with it. You
wouldn’t have come here without having this question so the question is already in you and somehow
you are the question. So don’t worry about asking the question again; just listen to the answer.

***

You were talking about feeling being the level beneath thought. I learned a technique—it’s called
focusing—where you put your attention on your body and you open yourself to whatever sensations
arise. And then you said don’t look for them to go away, just be interested in them. I’ve had too much
protein powder and I can feel it as a big lump and it’s very irritating. I wonder whether that’s an
example of the mind or of consciousness interacting with the body?

It’s your body teaching you a lesson about protein powder. It’s important to understand that these are
just natural happenings in your body; otherwise, we tend to focus on them, try to change them, and be
angry about them. The moment you see them for what they are, you’re not trying to do anything about
them, and this gives you freedom.

I feel that I am free from it now, but I wasn’t this morning. Even though I understood the physiological
causes, my mood was still affected.

Yes, there was an added psychological component. Just ask yourself, “What can I do to reduce this
discomfort? What can I do to prevent the problem from recurring?” Once you have intelligently
investigated all the options you can become quiet, because you have done all you can. You just wait it
out.

But I’m wondering whether it’s the mind or consciousness that is reacting.

When you are observing the conditions and discomforts of your body with an intention, you are
reacting. When they simply manifest in your welcoming awareness, reaction is replaced by
understanding.

So the awareness itself wouldn’t be involved in any reaction?

No. What happens when we see these bodily conditions in this way, is that the psychological charge is
eliminated and possibly, as a result, there could be an evolution of the phenomenon itself, according
to the laws of nature. In this case the evolution was obstructed by the psychological involvement with
the phenomenon.

Are there any techniques that are not in the magical realm that you referred to earlier?

Everything we do out of love understanding is in the spiritual realm. The goal, you see, is not
personal. In the physical realm I believe I am my body. In the magical realm I believe I am my mind.
In the spiritual realm I no longer believe that I am either the body or the mind; I believe nothing. I
give God the freedom to make me believe, at any moment, what She wants me to believe, and then to
make me forget, and then to know again. I’m talking at the level of the mind, which cannot hold the
truth.

***

This question has to do with welcoming. This body-mind has, on many occa​sions, experienced
depression so deep that it has become a medical problem with chemical imbalance. And that is still
present as an undercurrent. On some days, like today for example, when it’s very present, the only
thing I can try to do is to be welcoming of it. But that doesn’t necessarily work.

It “doesn’t work” because you see it as a practice. You see it as a means to an end, to get rid of the
depression. This being the case, there is no true acceptance of the current situation. If welcoming is
seen as a means to attaining a goal it ceases to be welcoming.
The source of misery is always the belief that we are a separate entity; the way out is the
understanding that we are not. This understanding is achieved through investigation at the level of
reason and at the level of feeling.

Yes, that’s true; when the depression happens the main sensation is a sense of separation from the
universe—from everything that you care to name.

This feeling of separation, or darkness, appears somewhere, so just consider, for a moment, that in
which it appears. How do you know this is separate? We have bought the argument that we are
separate entities. This is described in Western mythology as taking a bite from the fruit of the tree of
knowledge of good and evil, meaning that after I eat the fruit of this tree I have knowledge of the
distinction between me and the rest of the world, between good and evil. But there is nothing forcing
me to keep this fruit in my mouth. I can spit it out.

So, in times like that, when one is in the grip of a sense of isolation, the thing to do is to just sit with it
and do nothing?

Yes. Treat it as you would treat a flu. Keep warm inside. Read good books. Hang out with friends.
Think of the truth.

***

You talk about moments of understanding, or the appreciation of beauty, as examples of consciousness
knowing itself. Does the moment of understanding represent a gap in the sequence of thoughts?

Yes, it is a gap in the sequence of thoughts, or in the sequence of perceptions or sensations. In the case
of a created artwork, a musical composition for example, the meaning of a musical cadence becomes
apparent when the various elements achieve a resolution. The same applies to poetry and painting.
You let the painting come to you. Initially you see the various elements in sequence, but a moment
arrives when all the elements come together and you experience the flash of emotion that takes you
beyond time.
Beauty is revealed when things fall into place. You might see it in satsang. At some point you
experience the underlying beauty; you know that this couldn’t possibly be your projection onto the
situation, because you see that the threads of the situation are interwoven in a way that is beyond the
capacity of any human mind. You know where it really comes from.

There are times when this expansion takes place, into the realm of consciousness seeing itself, but
there are other times when the ordinary perceptions persist but they seem to be penetrated by an
underlying, larger awareness.

Yes, that happens also. The first access to consciousness is as pure consciousness, but if we go to pure
consciousness again and again, as it can happen in satsang, then something remains even in the
presence of perceptions: you maintain contact, so to speak, with the lightness of being. A quality of
lightness, ease, and wellness persists along with an absence of problems. This reflects a natural,
spontaneous turning inwards towards the source by our hearts and minds, and even by our bodies.
Effortlessly, the objects of perception become less important and we become open to the moment, and
then to the fragrance of presence.
But everything we say about the fragrance and the presence is false. Whatever is said has to be
absorbed in the moment and then forgotten. It is only poetry, for immediate consumption. Don’t
invent any rules or dogma about it, that it must happen this way and not that way. We can never make
predictions. What applied perfectly in one situation may be totally inappropriate in another situation,
which, on the surface, looks to be very similar. We have to be content to be nobody and live in a state
of not-knowing.
Try, for a time, to be without intention, for once you have had a taste of being without intention,
you will not want to go back to the heaviness of living with intentions to be realized and goals to be
met. You will not want to be forever trying to squeeze the joyful spontaneity of life into the
straitjackets of your fixed concepts, no matter how elegant those concepts might be. You will want to
kick off your shoes and throw off the straitjackets of your words and concepts, and play like children
in the waves that roll in on the beach of life. The heart of these gatherings, the essence of our
meetings, is not the talks. The talks are just a pretext.

The Fundamental Equation

What can I do to know, fully, the seer who cannot be seen?

You can know, fully, that it cannot be seen.

There is a famous saying, “The seer is the seen.” Is that a path?

Yes. It can be a path if you look at everything as being yourself, if you look at the world as being your
body, and if you look at other people as being your own consciousness. But first, be satisfied that
there is nothing that could tilt the weight of evidence to the conclusion that the seer is an object.
Understand that this idea that the seer is an object is just a belief.
As soon as we liberate the seer from objectivity we enter an utterly different dimension. The mind
cannot know but the seer knows. The mind cannot see—the seer sees itself. We have to give up the
desire to see the seer with the mind.

The mind can deal with the seen, and if the seer is the seen, can’t the mind play some role?

The mind can help to clean up the mess it has created, but the mind cannot see the seer. The attempt to
see the seer through the mind prevents the seer from seeing itself. When the seer sees itself it is felt as
peace and happiness, well-being and space, and an absence of any burden. That’s how we recognize
the seer seeing itself. The seer seeing itself is not an objective experience. The words used are
misleading, because when we use these words, “The seer sees itself,” the mind immediately imagines
an event or an experience. The thought arises, “I can see the seer like I can see the sun.” When the seer
sees itself it feels happy, it feels true, it feels loving; and conversely, when the seer feels happy, or
true, or loving, it is seeing itself.

If the seer is the seen, and you look at the seen and you see that it is ordered, not chaotic, does that
reflect back on the nature of the seer?

Yes. Order and harmony in the seen direct us to the source of this harmony, which is the seer. So,
when there is order and harmony in the realm of objects it reminds us of the source of harmony, of
the oneness. Harmony is the display, in multi-dimensionality, of oneness, just as in music, all the
harmonics are the multiple of one single frequency, or as the rainbow is the display, along the
spectrum of color, of white light. The seer is beyond time and space, but every division of oneness
within the realm of time and space has the power to take us back to the oneness of which it reminds us.

What if we look around and see discord, like deliberate massacres of civilians in the course of war.
Does that takes us back to the oneness?

There is a distinction to be made here. Both discord and harmony reveal the seer—as the seer of the
seen, as the source. But discord just reveals the seer in a passive way; harmony, love, and beauty take
us back to the seer, to oneness, in an active way.

Would you say harmony is like a work of art, different from just an ordinary object?

Exactly. It is different in the same way that a saying that comes from truth differs from a speech by
Adolph Hitler.

I have a recollection, not a very clear one, about Jesus being asked why a particular man was stricken
with misfortune—he was either blind or crippled. And Jesus gave a reply to the effect that it had
happened so that the glory of God might be manifested. Is there some deep meaning in imperfection?
Is it just accidental, or is there some deep meaning in it?

What is seen as imperfection at an early stage of understanding is seen as an expression of perfection
at a later stage. As we open spiritually, we see God in more people, more places, and more objects.
That which enables us to see God everywhere is simply being open to that possibility. In the
beginning it is hard to be open to the possibility that the cop who is giving us a ticket is God, and that
he is an expression of grace at that moment.
We can make this an exercise: try to see God at every moment, in every situation, in every being.

And that forces God to show up?

Yes. If we are truly open to the possibility that any situation in our life is an opportunity for grace,
then grace will shine through the situation, always.

Is that another aspect of the statement that the seer is the seen?

Yes. Ordinarily we look at situations from the vantage point that this dream is real. That is the major
distortion.

This statement, that the seer is the seen, does that have the same meaning as the other great equation,
Atman is Brahman?

Yes.

Well, if Atman is the same as Brahman, then it doesn’t make sense to me to describe what is seen as an
illusion or a dream. It seems to be saying that Brahman is an illusion.

What is an illusion is the distinction between the seer and the seen, the belief that the seen exists
separately from the seer, that Brahman is different from Atman.
What we mean by Brahman, by the way, is not the sum total of all phenomena; rather it is the
reality that underlies all phenomena. Brahman is the ultimate reality of the world. The ultimate reality
of what we call “I”, of ourselves, is consciousness, Atman. The fundamental equation is: the ultimate
reality of the world and the ultimate reality of what we are, are the same. That is only natural— we are
part of the world.

This equality between Atman and Brahman relates to the presence in this moment—is that correct?

Yes.

Sometimes you see the word Parabrahman. How does that relate to this moment?

It signifies that there is no distinction. If I make a distinction between Shiva, as the creator, and Shakti,
as the creation, there is still a duality. The resolution of this duality is Parabrahman. In this resolution
Shiva gives himself into Shakti. It is like a banyan seed that grows into an immense tree. The great
tree is the manifestation, Shakti. The tiny seed, the invisible seed, stands for the origin, Shiva. It is not
that Shiva and Shakti exist independently of each other; rather Shiva has become Shakti, and then
Shakti becomes Shiva. That’s what Jesus means when, talking about the light, he says, “It is a
movement and a repose.” The movement is Shakti and the repose is the presence.

What’s that? What did Jesus mean when he was talking here about light?

The light stands for the absolute. The question asked was, “And if they ask, ‘What is the light’, what
shall we say?” And Jesus replied, “Tell them that it is a movement and a repose.” He meant the
absolute: that of which we are the children, that which we love, that which is our origin and our end. It
is always the same and yet forever new at every moment. It is like you. You have always been the
same, but since I have known you, you have changed. You have become much softer and you are
more comfortable with yourself. But you have always been the same.
With the mind we can only go to so far. We can recognize that our previous belief systems,
although taken to be true, were simply belief systems, and we can see our subsequent liberation from
them. We cannot go beyond that. Beyond that we have to be taken by grace. If we are attached to the
belief of separation we are in a position of rejecting the invitation. That which takes us beyond the
mind is not of the mind.

***

There’s something I’m trying to sort out. After listening to what’s been said in our conversations, it
seems that the right understanding of the mind is that it’s just a tool being used by consciousness.
That’s all it is, just a tool. In fact it doesn’t really have an independent life of its own.

Actually, there is no mind. Nobody has ever seen a mind. Psychologists speak of the mind all the time,
but they have never seen it.

Well, I guess that, at the very least, I as a psychotherapist have to pretend the mind is there. But I’d
like to have another look at this. In this dialogue we say things like, “We do this and that, and the
mind does this and that.” I suppose that all we’re doing is just speaking from the point of view that
we’re accustomed to adopting?

Exactly. It’s the same as our saying that certain situations apply at the physical plane, that gravity has
this effect, or that the electromagnetic force has that effect.

You said earlier that whenever love appears, or beauty, or happiness, what’s really going on is that
consciousness is seeing itself. Do you mean to say that every time we have some love in our lives, or
some beauty, or some happiness, that consciousness is knowing itself?

Yes, every time—but usually through the veil of ignorance.

Well, OK, I can accept that. It’s something that happens outside of time.

But you know, what we usually think is that love is caused by the per​son we’re in love with. And we
usually think that beauty and happiness are caused by a particular object, or piece of good fortune, or
someone being really sweet to us. Is this just a mistake that everyone makes, to think that love and
happiness are caused by something in time, by whatever it was that happened just before the love or
the happiness swept over us?

Yes, that’s the common mistake. We think it’s a result of some external object.

There’s another thing, and I’d be very obliged if you could help me understand it. Now, it used to be
the case, that if I was in a situation where love arose, I would want that situation to continue. Or if I
came across something that made me think, “Ah, this is beautiful!” I would want to possess that thing
and hold on to it. Because I never used to think that love or beauty were inside me, I always used to
think that they were outside me and I had to acquire them.

But now I’m inclined to think that love and beauty are inside me, and it’s not so important to get them
from the outside. But I still enjoy those things, those beautiful things and those lovely people.

I don’t even know if there’s a question in all that. Do you have anything helpful to say about it?

It’s part of the celebration. If you experience beauty somewhere you are attracted and drawn towards
it. If you are taking a stroll at night, and go past a house where all the lights are on, the doors and the
windows are open, and music and laughter are floating out on the night air, you will want to join the
party.
The desire to celebrate is normal. The pull towards love is normal.
The moment it becomes clear that love is not in the object, that beauty is not in the object, we are
free from the object, and able to use it for celebration. But since we are not attached to it, its loss
leaves us unaffected; we feel no frustration or anger—there are always more objects.
It is important to have a taste of uncaused happiness—a happiness which, like the perfume found at
our gatherings, cannot be traced back to any object. All of us here are ordinary people, but, when we
gather together, this wonderful fragrance arises, demonstrating, beyond doubt, that what we are
seeking is to be found not in objects but in our own heart.

***

Sometimes someone is happy at the prospect of something happening. Is that also an instance of
consciousness seeing itself?

Happiness does not arise because we expect something pleasant to happen. We may have been faced
with an obstacle and at some point this obstacle is removed. We experience relief, and a flash of joy,
because we have already experienced a partial attainment of an object of desire. So the mechanism
that comes into play is the same as that which gives rise to temporary happiness when we obtain a
desired object. But longing for objects doesn’t produce happiness; longing for God produces
happiness.

So happiness doesn’t arise from the gratification of the ego?

No. Rest assured that whenever you experience happiness the fragrance of your true nature is
revealing itself. You can bow and give thanks, but understand that the object was not a necessary part
of the process. When you bow it means that you have drawn the correct conclusion: the object was not
the source of happiness. It means, “I recognize You as the source of my happiness, and I bow before
You.”

***

I often experience happiness through the beauty of nature, and sometimes I’ve thought that I might be
attached to nature. But since you say that these objects of beauty are simply pointing in the direction
of the real source of happiness, then the bonds of attachment to the objects are loosened. And I know
that when I die the objects will no longer be there, but there is still a nostalgia.

That’s because you have doubts. You are prepared to accept it in theory, but in your heart you still
believe that the happiness that comes with the objects is better than what you experience in their
absence. That’s ignorance. The joy that exists without any need for objects is much better. You are not
familiar with the sweetness of the disappearance of all things into that which creates all things. You
are not acquainted with the splendor of it, the lovingness of it. You are not filled with longing for it.

***

I want to ask about Ramana Maharshi. I understand that although he underwent a powerful and
transformative awakening, it wasn’t until he was given some books on Advaita that he really
understood what had happened.

When Ramana Maharshi read the Advaita texts he discovered the perfect formulation of his
experience. But here we do it in reverse order; we go from the right formulation to the experience.
In satsang, through grace, we have glimpses of truth and we experience occurrences of higher
reasoning. We find ourselves thinking very deeply about these matters, and it all happens
spontaneously. The formulation that we arrive at becomes simpler and simpler. Instead of there being
a lengthy process between the first appearance of the thought about the truth and its resolution into the
experience of truth, the end is present at the beginning. You think about the truth and you are truth.

Kiss the Mind Goodnight

I want to see if I understand this correctly: although certain objects, particularly objects of beauty,
can be valuable because they can lead you to the truth, objects are not really valuable in themselves.
And in the natural state objects dissolve into the truth. And then, after these objects dissolve into
consciousness they re-appear as something valuable because then that which is seen is also the seer. I
think this is what the Zen ox-herding pictures are pointing to.

What Zen is pointing to is that there is a point of dissolution at which mental concepts have to be
forgotten.
Since the mind has no access to peace and understanding, it has to abdicate and abide in not-
knowing, accepting that it cannot know. The perfume is beyond the mind. The mind is looking for
rest, but it is this looking for rest that prevents the mind from being at rest.
The mind does not come to rest through attempts to crush it with an act of will; it comes to rest
through understanding. The understanding is that the mind has sought a clear picture of truth, and the
clear picture of truth is that the mind cannot have a clear picture of truth. If this seeking nevertheless
persists, it is important to recognize that this seeking is nothing more than the residue of an old habit.
At this point the seeking ceases naturally, once and for all. When the mind is finally at rest there is
neither Buddhism, nor Advaita nor Zen. Nor are there any oxen.

You say that the mind is seeking rest . . .

It is desperately seeking rest.

I’ve met people at various times who’ve said things like, “Just be in the now and then you won’t have
any questions.” But that doesn’t seem as natural and as spontaneous as giving expression to the
questions when they arise.

As I have just said, it is too drastic to attempt to crush the mind. It has to come to a natural rest
through understanding. But it could happen that even with understanding, a residual agitation of the
mind continues. This indicates that the mind still is attempting to form a picture of that which is
beyond any concept. We need to be aware of this mechanism.

When the question meets its answer, is there a release of what you could call a localization in the
mind?

You could call it a release of a belief system.

***

I have a question, about free will. It seems to me that, from the viewpoint of consciousness, free will
exists. And as an act of free will we decided to have fun and take on the identity of this person. From
the viewpoint of this person there may not be free will, but from the standpoint of who we really are,
free will is apparent.

Yes. From that standpoint there is freedom.

***

One more question. What do I do when I go home? Almost everybody I come in contact with is
accustomed to responding from the standpoint of a person. And it’s easy for me to fall into the same
routine; to respond to their person​hood I become a person. They tell a joke which is based on the
assumption of the reality of the person. And I laugh at it, and fall deeper into personhood. You know,
I’d rather not go there but it’s a very easy thing to fall into. Do you have any advice?

Go there without going there. Go there while remaining what you are. Meet them where they are
without leaving where you are. In other words, you can play the game, knowing it is a game. Your
edge is that you know it’s a game.

That is certainly true in regard to psychotherapy. The questions therapists get asked all center around
the pain of being a person. It’s an odd game. You suffer because you still carry the pain of being
deprived of love as a child. You relax a bit because, although you are still a person, you can get love
now. But ultimately you go into despair because you can’t get free of person​hood. You work your way
up into despair.

Psychology is hopeless, but if you admit that it’s hopeless, you won’t have many clients. So you have
to be a bit duplicitous. Hide from your clients the fact that you are not really doing psychology, that
what you are doing is taking them to your freedom. What you do has to arise out of the circumstances
and I cannot tell you in advance how to do it; it will always be revealed in the moment. You have to be
very careful not to turn the heat too high. Here again, circumstances and your own meditation will tell
you what to say and what not to say. A rule of thumb is to say nothing blatantly spiritual. If you let the
situ​ation lead you, there will arise a readily understandable form of words in ordinary language,
which will have a liberating impact. If, in the course of this interaction, something takes birth of a
truly spiritual nature, you will know it, you will see it.

It often happens that at that point the client opens the door to the introduc​tion of spiritual matters.

It is a very delicate door to open. Stay in not-knowing.

***

My question has to do with surrendering an object or a thought to that in which it appears. I find that
thinking often has an obsessive quality, first one thing and then another. When I notice this happening
I remind myself that these are simply thoughts, and I attempt to surrender them to that in which they
appear. What makes it difficult is that I’m not sure what “sur​rendering” means.

The word “surrendering” is used to indicate the giving up of the thinker.
These thoughts revolve around the illusion of a “me.” So as long as this “me” notion remains
unhindered it will not only keep creating this merry-go-round of thoughts but will promote another
activity—the attempt to eliminate this whirligig of thought.
So when involved thought arises—and by “involved thought” I mean thought that revolves around
the “me” notion—we must investigate the “me.” Inquire who is it, or what is it, this alleged, separate
person? And although we may have already understood that there is no separate person, we should go
back to this understanding as often as is necessary, observing what happens to the thoughts which
compulsively arise. We might find that their fuel line has been cut. Or we might find that an
emasculated remnant of involved thoughts continues to appear, just out of habit. These thoughts we
can surrender to the space in which they appear, which means that we take our focus of attention away
from the thoughts to the space. That is possible only if we are not attached to these thoughts, only if
we don’t want to do anything about them, only if we don’t really care how they evolve, or whether
they stop or not. Then we are free of them.
But first discover what is at the core of these thoughts, the “me,” and then inquire, “What is this
me?”

I do make this inquiry, “What is this ‘me’?” And when I do I become very aware of the physical
contractions, the localizations behind the eyes, that sort of thing.

Yes, and that sort of thing is an object, it is not what you are, right? Because what you are is that which
is aware of that sort of thing.
When we ask the question, “What am I?” the thinking process stops and meditation begins. We go
upstream towards the source and encounter the contractions and tensions in the body that create the
pseudo-me which in turn generates all this compulsive thinking and misery.
As soon as we have a clear view of these tensions, these localizations, we have escaped the realm
of thinking, and entered the realm of bodily sensations. We can do the same thing with these
sensations as we have done with the thoughts: we offer them to the space in which they appear. Once
we understand that we are not these knots of bodily sensations, we don’t worry about them, we don’t
even try to eliminate them. We don’t become involved with them, they are just part of the landscape.
And where does that leave us? In the now, in presence. But in the next moment the compulsive
involvement with sensations—what I call “feelingness”—might return, and we will have to become
uninvolved in the same way. But eventually something will shift.
We have now discovered the bodily knots and contractions that create the pseudo-me and underlie
our compulsive thinking— what I call “thinkingness.” The reason that we allow this process to
continue is simply that we enjoy it. Once we see this process clearly and realize that we enjoy it, we
can choose whether or not to stay in the process, to stay in “thinkingness.”

***

I am confused by the use of this word “heart.”

It’s poetic.

But I have a real feeling in the chest.

The feeling in the chest is not your true heart. Your true heart is your consciousness, your true center.
If I conduct the inquiry “What am I?” I look for the essence, the core. If I make this inquiry and I
encounter a bodily sensation, in the head for example, it is obvious that this sensation is not my core,
because it is an appearance within that which I am. And the same goes for a feeling in the chest; that is
also not my core, it is simply one more appearance arising within me. The localizations in the
forehead are the pseudo-center of thought and the localizations in the chest are the pseudo-center of
feelings.

My experience of love is a localized feeling to which I become addicted. I am averse to seeing it go.

Your true center is that which gives, not that which grasps. True love wants nothing for itself.

***

I have heard you use two words in the one phrase, benevolent and indifference. It had a very expansive
effect upon me. Usually, when I’m meditating, I constantly berate myself for not being sufficiently
focused and single-minded. But since I heard you use this phrase, “benevolent indifference,” the
phrase keeps coming back to me in the midst of my self-reproach and I am able to just let it go. It has
occurred to me that nearly all my internal monologue is a form of questioning, even the assertions, but
since becoming acquainted with benevolent indifference I see that an element of love and acceptance
has entered this inquiry.

Yes. We should not reproach ourselves when we ask ourselves ques​tions and supply ourselves with
the answers. We should regard this practice with benevolence, as a functioning of the living truth.

***

Speaking of layers, when I am approaching a deeper layer within myself, and I’m just about to break
through, it seems that my mind relaxes so much that it almost goes to sleep. It’s quite different from
being all worked up by fear or anger—it’s just a sweet little feeling that’s perfectly happy to let things
be.

What is interesting is when the mind goes to sleep and you remain awake. Just kiss the mind
goodnight.

I don’t have any aversion to that idea.

In those moments it doesn’t matter whether the mind is operating or not. The mind has been making a
last-ditch effort to understand the truth and it has become exhausted. It is close to seeing that it cannot
understand, and it is just about ready to give up. So let it have a holiday.

Sometimes I’ll have that experience of being aware that my mind is giving up the effort of trying to
understand something conceptually. I then judge it, and I try to give the mind some help by drinking
some strong coffee the next time I come into satsang. This morning I took some prescription
medication for attention deficit. I would like to know whether you think this is a good idea, to sharpen
the mind in order to bring its quality of discrimination to such a level of refinement that the mind will
understand that the job is too big for it.

The perfect circumstances for understanding the truth are the circumstances that are prevailing right
this moment. To try to sharpen your ability to discriminate would be to postpone the understanding.
This understanding cannot be held by the mind, no matter how much the mind would like to do so. All
we can do is live the truth, which is supremely satisfying. Live it without holding it. It holds itself.
Don’t be worried about circumstances; any circumstances are perfect. If you are sick, lying in
your hospital bed, that is a perfect situation to be with the truth. If you find yourself in the most intense
joy, the most exquisite joy, that is also the perfect situation.
So don’t worry about lapses of clarity. What’s important is that you are in love with the search for
truth. You are genuinely in love with the search for truth if thoughts about the truth arise in you
frequently and spontaneously.
Accept completely your life circumstances. Don’t consider them to be a hindrance to finding the
truth. The more you fall in love with the truth the more your life will evolve. The circumstances are
not cast in stone. Love for the ultimate has great transformative power.
When we fear that we don’t belong, we are subject to fear, and our behavior becomes strange.
When we are in love with God we belong everywhere. This brings about deep relaxation and
behavior that seems normal.

Francis, you talked earlier about asking and answering questions. Essentially, that seems to be giving
satsang to yourself.

Yes.

So what seems to be happening is that you-as-consciousness is speaking to the contractions that were
formed in the course of consciousness deciding to become identified with a person. It seems that
consciousness is reversing the process of identification.

There is an insight in the mind that comes from beyond the mind and harnesses the ordinary abilities
of the mind, logic, reason, and so on. This new movement of the mind is powerful because it comes
from a source of certainty, of truth. Before its encounter with the truth, the old belief system was
standing proudly on the beach, pretending to be a castle. Now it is only sand, waiting to be washed
away by the wave of truth bearing down on it.

It seems that residues of the belief in the reality of the person can co-exist with the knowledge of truth.

A belief is a thought, a concept, with something added on to it. This something is our attachment to it,
our investment in it, that which makes us believe it to be true. The wave of truth separates the concept
from what was added. The concept by itself, not being defended, is seen for what it is—a mere
concept without any substance. It then dissolves, and that which was added goes back to where it
belongs.

Do sages find themselves, maybe momentarily, in the grip of reactions that are based in residues of
belief in the reality of personhood? Do they go through this process of question and answer?

The answer is “no” to the former question, “yes” to the latter. When an intuition is about to arise it
may at first show up as a question. The question might be, “What is the connection between this and
that?” And after a wait the answer appears, occasioning a great joy. This pro​cess may happen in the
case of a sage. The term “sage” simply means there is no attachment to the concept of being a person.
When I believed that I was a person, I may have built certain belief systems around this pet
concept. Later, when the belief that I am a person leaves, some residues may remain. But now, as I just
said, they are like sandcastles on the beach, with no protection from the waves of truth. They are
exposed and dissolved; that’s the “stabilization” or “self-realization” process. A moment arises when
the beach has been effectively cleared of the last remnants of belief-castles. But even then, the creative
function of the mind is still alive. There is still room for more elegant, more poetic expressions, and
for deeper, more penetrating, understandings. The flow of creativity will never stop, because God is
infinite.
The turning point in the understanding of truth is when misery is finally defeated, giving way to
celebration.

You Have a Choice

I’ve been wondering, in a chicken-and-egg sort of way, about which comes first, my identification with
qualities—conditioning—or my sense of separation? I’ve been wondering if the sense of identification
has been getting in the way of my seeing the unity of my true nature?

It is not a chicken-and-egg situation. These factors are the opposite sides of the same coin; you cannot
have the one without the other. The sense of separation exists only when you don’t see the unity, and if
you don’t see the unity there is a sense of separation. Logically they are not two. If two phenomena
always occur together there are not really two, there is only one.

I have made great efforts to find this unity. I have seen it, but I think it’s a matter of knowing it. I’ve
tried to find it, or put it together like a jigsaw, and that doesn’t seem to work. In moments of doing
nothing, and those moments of doing nothing are rare, it all seems to be OK and clear. So I wonder,
what does it mean to know absolute reality?

That which sees reality is reality itself. What prevents us from seeing reality, or unity, is the belief that
we are a separate entity. The basic mistake is the identification of consciousness, that which sees, with
an object that is seen, such as the body and the mind. What you really are is that which is hearing these
words, right this moment. That which is hearing these words is not heard, nor is it seen, nor is it
thought. But nevertheless, we have been taught and conditioned to believe that what we are is an object
that is heard, seen, or thought.
We have also been taught to believe that this consciousness is personal and limited, and that each
person is endowed with a private and separate consciousness, so that there are many consciousnesses.
We have never considered that while it is easy to verify that two objects are separate, because it is
possible to see their borders and limits, it is not possible to find any border or limit to consciousness.
We have never asked, “How does the separateness of objects have any application to the question
of whether or not consciousness can have borders and limitations? How can I ascertain whether that
which is not perceived by the senses, which is not an object of senses, has limits? What is the evidence
that it is limited? What is the evidence for the belief that I have one consciousness and you have a
different consciousness?”
It is through this kind of reasoning that we liberate ourselves from old beliefs which are only
beliefs—beliefs which, though generally accepted, are revealed, when closely examined, not to have a
leg to stand on.

I suppose that it is the process of looking for that evidence which sometimes sets up a barrier.

I would add something in answer to your question. We know moments when we are so relaxed that we
stop looking, and then we have an inkling of peace. But we also have an inkling when we pursue the
thought about consciousness, which is a powerful thought. When we investigate this thought out of
interest, with our intelligence engaged, this thought takes us to understanding; this understanding is a
glimpse of our true nature. We cannot understand anything about our true nature without taking a look
at it, just as I cannot under​stand anything about a car, or a horse, unless I’ve taken a look at it. I cannot
say what makes a car different from a horse without having any knowledge of cars and horses. I
cannot say anything about what consciousness is or is not without taking a look at it. Therefore, every
time I understand anything about consciousness I must have taken a look at it.
This understanding is derived from an experience, from a knowing, of my true nature. Such an
experience is special in the sense that it is not objective experience. If I ask you, “How do you know
that you are conscious?” the only answer is that it is self-evident. But although it is self-evident, this
evidence is not derived from an objective experience. It is not similar to my asking you, “What is the
color of these flowers in this vase?”
Nevertheless, the certainty that you are conscious is greater than any other certainty. When you
look at these flowers, and you judge them to have a certain color such as yellow, the fact is that even
when you are making a judgment about objects, you still have more certainty about your being
conscious than about the truth of these judgments. You might be suffering from an optical disorder.
The flowers might be lit by a yellow light that makes them appear yellow momentarily. But whether
they are yellow or white, whether your judgment is correct or false, you are absolutely certain that
you are conscious. In other words, what is established by the consciousness of objects is the reality of
the subjective consciousness, not the reality of the objects.

I am full of doubt about the effectiveness of rational analysis as a path to the beyond. When I try it,
what happens is that I become aware of the falsity of a customary belief about who I am but then I find
that I am caught in a more subtle belief. Every time I go beyond one belief I only find myself in a more
subtle belief, and the process seems to continue ad infinitum. How can any thought take you out of the
realm of thought?

It is impossible if you go about it in this way. It is impossible if, after discovering the falsity of the
belief that you are a, you jump into the belief that you are b. You will just progress from belief a to b
and then to c. As you say, there is no end to it. But the end does come when you stop believing that you
are anything, any object. No object will do. The sickness of the mind is that we think that we can
construct, within the mind, an idea of what we are. It is an impossibility!

But the mind won’t stop looking.

The mind is convinced that there is no way to know what we are, other than through the mind, because
the mind has no access to any other form of knowing. The mind will stop looking the moment that it
has a clear understanding that its search is doomed to failure. The mind is stupid, but not that stupid.
The reason that the mind keeps searching is that we have not looked deeply enough to understand,
without a doubt, that no approach through the mind will lead us to what we truly are. Objective
experience is not all there is to experi​ence. The channel through which we know we are conscious is a
new avenue of experience. It is not new in the sense that it wasn’t previ​o usly available. It has always
been available but we have overlooked it because we have been hypnotized by the objects of our
experience, by objective knowledge.

Then is it something like trying to look where you can’t look?

Yes. Exactly. It is like trying to look at your back. Forget about it! You don’t have eyes on that side. It
doesn’t mean that you cannot look there, just that you cannot look directly with your eyes. You can
use a mirror or a video camera, there are other means, but you cannot look with your eyes directly.
There are two modes of knowledge: the knowledge of objects, which is the only mode that most
of us have noticed, and the much deeper mode—the knowledge, “I am,” that “I am conscious.” This
second mode is more direct. We all have it. If we become aware that this knowing is not in the jail of
the body-mind, that it is free and is our true nature, and furthermore that it is what we refer to as love
and happiness, then a new interest takes birth in us.

Are you saying that, in being conscious, what is significant is not the object that one tries to grasp—
because I’m aware of trying to grasp or understand the object—but the fact of the consciousness
itself?

This is what we are.

So it’s not just my consciousness, although there is a “my consciousness,” but the very nature of
consciousness is its unity—is that correct?

Its nature is universality.

Because its quality is everywhere, the same quality is everywhere?

It is that which creates all things. It is that which is the substance of all things.
When you see these flowers or this human body, what you see is not the flowers or the human
body; what you see is an image in your mind brought forward for consciousness to enjoy. You don’t
see the “thing in itself,” so to speak. You see colors, shapes, all the properties, but they are just images
in your mind. The “thing in itself” has no color or shape or properties. If an ant were to look at a
flower, the ant would perceive a totally different set of data. Therefore, neither the image of reality
which is presented to the ant, nor the image that I have in my mind, is reality itself. Reality in itself
always escapes objective experience, and can never be experienced as an object of consciousness.
Therefore, either it can never be experienced, or, if it is to be experienced at all, in itself, it can only
be experienced as consciousness, as subject, never as object.
To repeat, in the realm of objects we only experience images; the “thing in itself” has no shape,
no color, no properties. If you reflect upon it, and if you try to look at consciousness as that which
perceives, you will come to the same conclusion about the “thing in itself” as you have about
consciousness. It is real, beyond a shadow of a doubt, but it has no shape, no color, no properties. And
then we may ask ourselves, “If the ‘thing in itself,’ which is the reality of all things, has the same
absence of properties as that which sees, why not equate them?” This is not a proof, but it paves the
way, as it were, for the mind to be open to the possibility that this consciousness which sees all things
is also the deepest reality of all things.
Another way to look at this is to say, “This body-mind is part of the world. That which is at the
core of the body-mind, as my inner experience, must also be at the core of the substance of the world.
If I look at my own core, what I find is this consciousness.” So from this vantage point also, it makes
sense that the substance of this body-mind is also the substance of this world, that the essence of this
body-mind is also the essence of the world, because they are not separate. A limited consciousness is
a mind construct, a nice theory made by the mind about something the mind has never perceived and
has never experienced. The mind doesn’t experience consciousness; it is the other way around
—consciousness experiences the mind.
Do you see the far-reaching consequences of this possibility? It liberates us from the jail of the
body-mind, because that which we love, that to which we are attached, is this consciousness. Our
misery derives from the belief that this consciousness is dependent on the body-mind for its very
existence. The moment that we are open to the possibility that this consciousness is independent, we
are free.

Yes, I can see that freedom. But I wonder why it is that there is a holding on to the other identification,
as though I can then claim the prize.

We hold on out of habit. We have old pieces of furniture in our houses, that have been around for a
long time, to which we have grown attached. People are attached to eating habits that are bad for their
health: for example, they eat lots of saturated fats because that’s what their mother gave them when
they were kids. They continue even against doctors’ orders. The same goes for smoking and many
other habits.

So, following on, it’s impossible to say we have our own consciousness?

We have our own consciousness; it’s just that it’s not private. It’s intimate, but it’s not private. We all
have it in common. There is no privacy in consciousness.

***

You spoke about the rebirth of an attraction towards consciousness and the abandoning of any effort to
see one’s back, where eyes can’t see. Is the function of relationships with other people and of
gatherings like this to act as eyes in the back of the head and help us break the habit of private
consciousness? Is that how we deepen our relations with wife, lover, children, and friends?

Yes. In a relationship the experience of consciousness not being private is the experience of love. If,
when we approach the other person, the so-called person, we are completely open to the possibility
that that which is at the other end of the communication channel is the one presence that we both share,
then, in a very magical way, this presence will share itself and we experience the sweetness, the
friendliness, and gentleness of love. I’m not talking about infatuation.
Something beautiful happens when we are both, on each side of a partnership, truly open to the
possibility that this presence is shared. Then, understanding can flow from itself to itself. When we
share understanding we are not sharing an object; we are sharing something much more precious.
The words are pointers; they take us towards the understanding. But, in order to have true access to
the understanding, at some stage we have to leave words at the door, just as we leave the car in the
garage when we come home. At that moment we experience our underlying oneness. We may not
recognize it as our underlying oneness, because the feeling of love and understanding seems so
natural and we have all experienced it. What prevents our grasping what is really happening is that
after the communion has passed, the mind comes in and pretends that it was personal, that it was not
shared. During the actual experience the mind was absent, but after the experience the mind returns, as
a spin doctor, adding its own personal spin. So we have to become aware that in these experiences of
love there is no personal element; it is only the subsequent mental interpretation that creates the
misunderstanding that the experience belongs to the separate personality.
Once we are truly open to the possibility that there is no separate personality involved in the
experience of love, our mind becomes like a neighbor who has been exposed as a confidence
trickster. Once we know what his game is, our reaction, when he offers us a terrific investment
opportunity, will be well informed. We won’t be easily fooled.
The awareness of our shared essence can arise even when we share our understanding of relative
knowledge. Let’s say I give you a clear proof of the theorem of Pythagoras. If you understand the
proof, it is obvious to both of us, beyond a shadow of doubt, that the understanding has been shared.
But because we have not removed the claim of the mind to possess a separate consciousness, this
experience has no significant effect on our way of seeing things. But when the understanding, instead
of referring to an object, refers to our true nature, then a meaningful change takes place in the mind.
The old belief in separation is vanquished.

Thank you. I very much liked what you said about people meeting, and that the recognition and love
that passes between them overcomes the personhood. I’d like to ask about this spin doctor, because the
ego does come in and make up stories. But if the spin doctor is caught in the act, who is it that catches
him?

Intelligence, understanding. When we understand, it is intelligence, awareness, that understands. There
is no person who understands because intelligence is not personal. It is only afterward that ignorance,
the spin doctor, comes in and makes it personal, saying “I understood.”
Let’s consider the process of understanding a thought. For example, as I speak, my words are
transformed into thoughts and these thoughts are understood. But to understand what I am saying, you
have to wait for the end of the sentence, right? You don’t know what I’m going to say next, you have
to wait, and it is not until the thought has vanished into its own understanding that you are able to
grasp it. The beauty is that when you understand anything, the thing that you allegedly understand is
no longer present.
There is a kind of joke which doesn’t immediately reveal its humor. But after ten seconds or so,
suddenly, you get it and you laugh out loud. In this case it is very clear that when the humor is
revealed and the laughter erupts, the joke is no longer present.
So what you understand, you never understand as a thought. The thought is just a vehicle which
takes you home, and remains in the garage while you go to the drawing room where you have the
experience—the laughter, the intelligence, the beauty, or the love. At that moment, the beautiful object,
the lovable object, the intelligent thought, and the joke are no longer present.

I’m really fed up with my mind, but I’m grateful for one thing. If I can say that everything that is
happening in front of me is the drama that consciousness is enacting, then three things seem to
happen: it takes away all judgment or criticism of what I’m seeing in front of me, it seems to put the
ego on the back burner, and there seems to be a tremendous freedom and expansion in what is actually
happening in front of me. But this scenario seems to have been started by the mind saying, “This is
what consciousness is doing.” So I’m grateful to it for that bonus, but as for the rest of it, I don’t care.

Yes, the mind is simply an instrument, like a weapon or a violin. When ignorance plays a violin, the
intonation is bad and the beat is off, but when consciousness plays the mind, the result is beautiful.
The mind per se is neither good nor bad, it is just an instrument. You were referring to that part of the
mind which is acting as an instru​ment of truth, and you are grateful for that.

***

Perhaps you’ll forgive me if I lead into this question by making a reference to Tony Parsons. He takes
the view that we are the embodiment of love, that there is nothing to be achieved and no work to be
done. Do you agree with that?

I do, with a caveat. From the vantage point of the absolute it is true that there is nothing to do.
However, it is true only if you are con​vinced that there is nothing to do. But if you are not happy, and
if you are convinced that you are a doer, that you are a person, then you cannot claim that there is
nothing to be done. If someone claims that there is nothing to do, while being convinced in his heart
that he is a doer, he is being inconsistent. Are you following me?
In the case of the one who still believes that he is a person, it is necessary that he be told, by his
spiritual teacher, that there is something to do—discover the truth. And once he discovers the truth he
will find out that there is nothing to do and no one to do it.
But you have to be absolutely consistent and totally sincere. You have to search the secret places
of your soul and face up to what you find there. If you still find the slightest belief that you are a
person, then there is something to do—you have to get rid of this residual attachment to a belief in
your personhood. Otherwise you end up performing the “Advaita shuffle.” You do not know Advaita
experientially and you have no intimate acquaintance with the truth of it, but you use it as a
justification for behavior that would otherwise arouse your guilt. When I was a truth seeker I knew a
lady who was also a disciple of Jean Klein in France. She had a sweet tooth and a tendency to put on
weight, and whenever she felt the temptation to go to the freezer and get out some ice cream she
would say, “What the heck; I am not my body.”
At a higher level, at the level of your most sincere inquiry into truth, and for as long as you have
any shred of belief that you are a person, you have to exert yourself to discover the truth that is
certain beyond a shadow of doubt.

***

When I look at these flowers, or at any object of beauty, it is my ego-mind that is looking at it. So is it
only when understanding has awoken in me that I can appreciate beauty?

When you look through your senses alone—not through your feel​ings or your thoughts—your
perception is always pure and there is no ignorance involved. Ignorance appears only at the level of
thought and at the level of feeling.

Maybe I didn’t ask my question clearly. If I look at a painting, or at some flowers, and I am attracted,
what is attracted—my ego-mind?

It depends. It is the ego that is attracted if you are looking at the level of feeling or thought: for
example, the piece could be provocatively sensuous, or expressive of a political idea with which we
agree. If, on the other hand, it is the beauty that attracts you, then it is not the ego that is attracted; it is
the Self, consciousness. A true objet d’art comes from an insight, from beauty itself. And because it
comes from beauty it carries the hidden signature of beauty. When you see it purely through your
senses, something in you resonates. It has the power to take you back to the source from which it
came. André Malroux defines a true objet d’art, and I agree with him, as “any man-made object that
points towards presence.”

In that case, let’s consider the case of people who are very turned on by rap music. Would you say that
this is an art form that doesn’t point towards the source?

Not the rap music I’ve heard so far. But I don’t make a habit of listen​ing to rap, so let’s be open to the
possibility that, somewhere, there is beautiful rap music.

Personally I agree with you, but I’m trying to reconcile this with what I understand intellectual
Advaita to mean: that everything is one, in which case everything is valid. I have a problem with this
because I may not like a particular piece of music or painting. How does this fit in to the Advaitic
scheme of things?

From the Advaitic perspective, although everything in this manifestation, including Hitler, Stalin, and
Saddam Hussein, is an expression of consciousness, it doesn’t mean that everything is beautiful.
Otherwise we would be obliged to adopt a form of relativism where we would say, “Well, you like
Bach and Mozart and I like rap, but it is only a matter of personal taste.” Such an attitude denies any
universal values like beauty or truth and equates Ramana Maharshi with Stalin. If all values are only
in the eyes of the beholder, then some will be justified in seeing Hitler as a hero while others give that
status to Ramana Maharshi.
Of course, that is not what Advaita means when it states that every object comes from, and points
towards, consciousness. Advaita acknowledges differences. Although every object, by its nature,
points towards consciousness, and reveals the presence out of which it arises and to which it returns,
there are some objects which point towards consciousness, not only by nature but also by function. A
true art object is an object which, like any other object, points to consciousness by its nature; but, it
also points to consciousness by its function—it is designed to point to beauty. Similarly, words that
come from truth point towards consciousness as their function— they are designed for that purpose. If
we just follow them, somehow we are taken to that place. If you read an advertisement in the
newspaper, its purpose is not to take you to consciousness but to the supermarket. Do you see the
difference?

I see the difference but I am still unclear about the place of duality in the scheme of things. It seems to
me that whenever we make a choice—and in the course of daily life we are constantly choosing one
thing rather than another—we are entering into duality.

Just discerning differences doesn’t necessarily create duality. There are differences in that which
appears; the unity is in the source of the appearances. Diversity cannot be denied. I remember an
account of someone taking a cheap shot at Advaita by saying that even in India, railway lines have two
tracks. But this is not a valid argument. We are not denying the existence of diversity within the world
of mani​festation.

I wonder if my problem with Advaita, which arises when I have to make a choice or note a distinction,
would be solved by simply maintaining silence.

Your problem would be solved only by understanding. Let me give you an example. When the
question of judgment and choice arises, it is often in the context of our interactions with others. We
become judgmental and we say, “You are a liar” or “You are weak” or what​ever. Such a judgment,
directed towards a person, always comes from ignorance. It is only because we think that we are a
person, good or bad, that we see, over there, another person, whom we judge. Such a judgment is
based on ignorance; it is based on an invalid distinction and an untruth—the existence of separate
individuals.
However, there is another type of judgment or distinction which is not based on the belief that
there is a person out there, or in here. It is simply the mind’s expression of something that has been
witnessed. We might say, “I have just witnessed an act of kindness, or aggression, or something that
seems to arise out of ignorance.” All of that is legitimate, provided we don’t make it personal. When
we make observations we notice differences. It seems to me that the rap music that I’ve heard doesn’t
come from this impersonal source, and that the music of Bach that I’ve heard does come from that
place. It is as simple as that. I’m not implying that Bach is a good person and the rapper is a bad
person. That is a different proposition.

Let’s suppose that you did say that the author of a malevolent act was imbued with malevolence; if you
made this remark without being personally involved and agitated, then that observation could be quite
valid, could it not?

Ultimately, it depends less on the manner in which the observation is expressed and more on the
feeling from which it comes. If it comes from the feeling that there is a man or a woman out there
who has acted badly, then it is not useful. If it comes from the understanding that it is an act of God,
but that this act of God is not an expression of beauty and love and harmony, then it’s useful.

So if it is an act of God then we are left with the proposition that we are encountering God playing one
of his malevolent roles?

It is true that God does everything, but we view things and judge God from a limited vantage point
and with limited knowledge. Life often demonstrates that an opinion based on our limited breadth of
vision has to be revised when we acquire additional information. It’s better not to judge. Who is there
to judge?

The one who is there to judge is the same one who says, “Bach seems to come directly from the source
while rap seems to come from somewhere else.”

Oh yes, but that is not a judgment about a person or about God. There is nothing personal in that
observation about Bach, nothing personal.

When you say “nothing personal,” do you mean “nothing personal” on the part of the one who makes
the distinction or “nothing personal” on the part of the one about whom the distinction is made?

Both. Because if it is personal at one end, it is going to be personal at the other end. If I think that I am
a person, then I am going to view others as persons. I can’t avoid it.

And if, for the sake of an experiment, I look at others as infinite consciousness, then I have to adopt
that position myself?

If you will. That is a provisional belief, like that of a scientist who is conducting an experiment under
certain assumptions. When you do an experiment you don’t have any judgments, because you wait for
the outcome of the experiment before drawing any conclusions. It is a good exercise.

A good exercise?

Yes, it is a good experiment to meet people and grant them, provi​sionally, universal consciousness;
and by the same token, make a pro​visional grant of universal consciousness to yourself, even though,
at this stage you are not yet convinced.

That was my question. You see, I occasionally feel that I have that choice, and then I make an about
turn and say, “Who am I kidding? This has to come naturally, it’s just a trick of the mind.” But you’ve
answered it.

It is an experiment. You are not asked to believe it unconditionally but to believe it provisionally. In
order to conduct an experiment you need to have some provisional belief that may lead to certain out​-
comes.

***

That was my question, but while I have the microphone I’d like to acknowledge the clarity with which
you spoke, a little while back, about the real meaning of doing and non-doing, and the intelligible use
of the terms “personhood” and “nobody here.” I feel that in the London Advaitic movement this
debate crops up in all sorts of forms, in all sorts of meetings, and there is quite a lot of woolly thinking
around it. I’d like to thank you for the light you shed on the matter

We could put this answer in a nutshell, in the manner of a Zen koan. If there is nothing to do, there is
nothing to do; if there is something to do, there is something to do.

What would initiate the doing or the non-doing? For example, we might do something in our lives and
then blame ourselves if it was a bad choice of action.

It is not a question of doing or not doing, because refraining from doing, being passive, is also a kind
of doing. If I witness an adult beating a young child, and I do nothing, I become an accomplice of the
crime. The real question is, “What is right action?” And right action is an action that doesn’t come
from the person but from a view of the situation that is not personal: you look at the totality of the sit​-
uation without being in the situation, without identifying with any of the parties. You take the stand of
a benevolent and fair judge who is attempting to point out to everybody what would be a good and
just outcome. And if you happen to be one of the interested parties, then you would take particular
note of what this judge has said to this party.

It seems much easier to take the view that there are no choices, so that whatever happens, this is just
the way that life works things out.

I don’t agree there are no choices. This is true only at the level of the person, of the body-mind, which
has no free will of its own. So, as long as I believe that I am a body-mind, I have no choices. The real
question is, “At the level of consciousness, do we have the freedom to accept or reject the idea that we
are the body-mind? Do we have a choice at that level?” The answer is, yes. And because we have a
choice at that level, we are morally responsible for our choices. So, to justify one’s egoic actions by
using an Advaitic or pseudo-Advaitic argument, that there is no choice, and that therefore it is
perfectly OK to keep the money that was given to me as a loan, would be a per​fect example of
indulging in an “Advaitic shuffle.”

But surely the programming of your body-mind would prevent your doing that?

You seem to have a rose-tinted view of the various programs to which different body-minds are
subjected. Some would find it abhorrent to fail to return a loan; others make that choice without a
second thought. The propensity of ignorance is to do whatever is convenient for the ego; there is
nothing ethical about it. Ethical choices have their origin in a different place: in the understanding that
there are no separate entities. If I am doing that to my neighbor, I am doing that to myself.

Just to recapitulate, I believe you said that we have a choice to believe whether or not we are separate
entities.

That’s a fundamental choice that we have.

At this moment, I know that is true; however, I don’t appear to have the choice to stick to it through
thick and thin. For example if somebody gets up my nose, I don’t appear to have the choice to stand
back, as consciousness, and not be caught up in my feelings as “I.” In that moment there seems to be
no choice. Later I can see that I got caught, that I am not my emotions, nor my body, nor my mind; but
when the chips are down I don’t appear to have a choice.

Once you are caught up in your feelings you no longer have a choice, but just before that you did
have a choice. The moment you said, “He did that, or she did that, to me! How dare he!” you made the
choice of a “he” and a “me.” Before that there was a moment of freedom, out of which you made the
choice of ignorance. You have boarded the plane and you have to wait until it lands. But, before you
board the plane, you have a choice.

OK, could you simply say something about the moment before you board the plane and the vigilance
that may be needed to prevent one’s boarding the plane? Is there something to help one maintain one’s
vigilance about who we know we truly are?

Yes, because what develops vigilance is the fact that this journey on the plane is terrible. The food is
lousy, there is not much legroom, and the neighbors are obnoxious. But, on the other hand, we are
infatuated with the “me” concept. We are so used to it, and we find it so endearing, that we make the
wrong choice again and again and again, until we make a connection between choosing this little
“me” concept and the terrible “me” journey that follows. Gradually, we don’t find it so endearing
anymore. But whether we find the “me” concept attractive or not, making that journey is our choice. If
we make the right choice, the choice for consciousness, we find ourselves in freedom, and we remain
in freedom for as long as we want, until we make the wrong choice again. As long as we are in
freedom, all the decisions we make are free, and from that freedom all the decisions will be ethical.

Please forgive me if I’m being obtuse, but who makes this choice?

We, as consciousness. We, as freedom, make the choice to board the plane and lose our freedom for a
while.

Truth, Love, Beauty, and Happiness

It seems that when one falls out of identification with a “separate I,” nothing is known. When
something becomes known by the mind, does that become another object? I am experiencing a number
of sensory phenomena at the moment, but I would imagine that it is not until my mind classifies them
and gives them names, like “bird” or “wind” or “bells,” that they becomes objects of knowledge. Is
that right?

When the mind applies its labels you have thoughts. Before that there were only sense perceptions or
bodily sensations.

It seems that I fluctuate between thoughts and presence. Thoughts cover presence when the labeling
begins.

At first, we experience presence at the end of a thought, when the thought merges into truth; we
experience presence at the end of a feeling, when it merges into love; and we experience presence at
the end of a sense perception when it merges into beauty. But we can also experience presence during
thoughts, sensations, and perceptions, because this perfume of presence is not an object, not objective
knowledge. We have it when there is a shift of attention away from the objects back towards attention
itself. The perfume of presence is attention knowing itself. In a way, it could be said that during the
presence of objects the experience of consciousness is not as vivid, as intense, as it is in a moment of
truth, love, or beauty, because some of the attention is still given to the object. When attention shifts
further away from objects, the world seems to lose some of its solidity, some of its tangibility, some
of its reality. In other words, what is lost to our awareness of the objective world is gained by our
awareness of presence—the source of reality. The reality of the objective world is a borrowed reality,
borrowed from its source, consciousness. Just as the world of our night dreams borrows its reality
from the consciousness in which it appears, so does the objective world.

It seems that being aware of presence is being aware of the waking dream, in the same way that we are
sometimes aware, in a dream at night, that this is a dream world that we are inhabiting.

Well, it depends. If we know, in the course of a night dream, that we are dreaming, it is because we
have some contact with our persona of the waking state at the same time as the night dream is
unfolding. In other words, we can know we are dreaming while a night dream is unfolding, but still
be subject to ignorance at the deepest level. This is because the one who is awake during the night
dream is the personal self of the waking state, the ego of the waking dream. In contrast, when we
awaken to our pure presence, there is a continuum, in the background of our experience, of
sweetness, of radiance, of reality; and this sweetness and radiance is not objective, it is more like
peace and fulfillment.
No manipulation of the dream state to achieve lucid dreaming can lead to this awakening. Only
love for the divine, love for the truth, can establish us there. In lucid dreaming all you do is shift, very
quickly, back and forth between the dream and the waking state.

To describe the state of being established in presence could we use the metaphor of an arm coming out,
accomplishing what needs to be done, and then returning home?

From the viewpoint of presence, the world appears in you, and you are already home. The key
indicator of being established in presence is the absence of psychological problems and the resulting
peace and contentment. We are accustomed to believing that the world is basically sorrowful and
troublesome, and that we live in the world; as a result, our lives are inherently painful. But the
opposite is true: the world appears in us, and our natural state is one of a deep contentment which can
be forgotten or obscured but never vanquished.

Exactly what happens to psychological problems? I am not clear about this.

Presence eliminates psychological problems like the sun eliminates shadows. Agitation transform
into peace; misery into happiness. We may slip into forgetfulness, we may be attracted by an object
for a moment or two, but that is a different matter. If we keep in touch with the flow of consciousness
we will not be subject to any negative emotions.

They do not disturb because they are all seen as part of the play?

No. We actually become free of negative emotions because, if we keep in touch with the flow of
consciousness, it would require an effort to revert to compulsive “feelingness” and “thinkingness.” It
would require a desire to go back to a lie, back to some unpleasantness that we had experienced in the
past.
It doesn’t mean that all practical problems vanish. We can still have a flat tire.

I would imagine that if the circumstances were right, a range of emotions could flash up, like a
thunderstorm, without one being swept out of presence and into identification with these feelings.

Negative emotions do not flow out of this peace, which cannot be the source of negative emotions. It
could happen, however, that you might feel the need to say something with intensity, in order to get
your point across, and this intensity might be interpreted as anger. But inside there is no anger, there
is no involvement. It is like acting in a play.

So the essence of what you are saying is that one ought to have one’s attention fixed on presence as
tenaciously as possible?

Yes, but we should be very honest about our motivation. The inquiry that I am talking about is an
inquiry that is conducted out of a love for, and fascination with, consciousness itself. Ours is not an
inquiry motivated by a desire for relief or personal self-improvement. This would be an attempt to
use presence. Presence cannot be used—we can only surrender to presence.
This is a common misunderstanding among truth seekers. Some don’t seek the truth one hundred
percent of the time; they seek the truth occasionally and the rest of the time they seek relief. These
searches lead in diametrically opposite directions. It is self-indul​g ence to imagine that when we are
seeking relief we are seeking the truth. If we fall into this trap we are likely to misuse the reasoning
and the insights that we have gained while seeking the truth. Instead of using them to further our
understanding of truth, we use them to gain relief. For example, we may have heard the teacher talk
about welcoming, or benevolent indifference. Later, we find ourselves experiencing a psychological
problem that has a desire associated with it, and we use welcoming or benevolent indifference as an
excuse to fulfill that desire. That won’t work.

***

Could you talk about the difference between relative and absolute truth. The world is definitely real,
anyone can check it, but you seem to be saying it is just an illusion.

A relative truth is something that is or seems to be true, within the world of manifestation. It is just an
interpretation of some object or phenomena—an interpretation which we qualify with the adjective
“true”: this physical theory is true, this one is false; this assertion is true, this one is false. What is true
or false is always a concept.

What I’m trying to say is that there are real phenomena, aren’t there? Water freezes. Magnets attract
iron filings. These properties seem more real than mere concepts. Water always freezes at the same
temperature, wherever you are.

It’s a frozen concept.

But it’s very substantial.

The physical behavior of matter is a kind of habit of reality to behave in a certain way. A concept is
also a kind of habit.

That implies that it can change.

Yes.

So you’re saying that in the future, water, for example, may not freeze at the temperature at which it
freezes now.

Who knows? There’s a big difference between scientific truth and absolute truth. Scientific truth is
based upon induction. But, although water has been found to freeze at a particular temperature on one
hundred thousand million occasions in the past, that doesn’t tell us anything about the future. That’s
why I refer to it as habit. Although some habits are very deeply rooted, it doesn’t mean that there is no
possibility of a change of habit. The physical constants, at our scale of time, seem to be unchanging.
But there is no guarantee that at a different scale of time there is not some kind of evolution of the
physical constants. The same could apply to space. There is no guarantee that if it were possible to go
to very remote areas of the universe we would find that the same laws of physics apply; we might find
that different laws prevail.
Even though we have no guarantee that the constants do not change, we freeze them at our time,
because it is convenient and makes our calculations much easier.
The truth that is certain beyond a shadow of doubt is conscious​ness. In physics the level of
precision when we measure or observe a phenomenon is in direct proportion to our knowledge of the
appara​tus that is used to observe it. Since everything we know, we know through consciousness, any
knowledge or any certainty that we can have, is less than, or at best equal to, the knowledge we have
of con​sciousness. But as scientists we fail to see this, because, with a few notable exceptions like
Erwin Schrödinger, we have conveniently forgotten it. Scientists have made a religion of science
because they have forgotten that, at a particular time in its development, the field of science was
arbitrarily limited. It was accepted, for instance, that science applies only to phenomena, and as a
result the perceiving consciousness was eliminated from the scope of scientific inquiry.
A dichotomy has developed in the classification of the reality of our experience, and we have
chosen to study only one half of this dichotomy. In the seventeenth century there was a turf war
between religion and science. Science was becoming a problem for the church, because it was being
accepted by intelligent people every​where that the earth was not the center of the universe, and that the
apparent motion of the sun around the earth was caused by the revo​lution of the earth on its axis. A
kind of gentleman’s agreement was reached whereby science would confine itself to phenomena and
the church would be the only authority on spirit. That has generated in the minds of scientists an
aversion to anything which falls outside their allotted field. This aversion arose from an ancient fear
that came into being at a time when there was a real possibility of being burned at the stake if one
incurred the wrath of the church. Over the centuries this fear has been transmitted through the
collective unconscious of the scientific community, even though it no longer has any basis. At least I
hope it has no basis—you never know what could happen now that fundamentalisms are on the march
all over the world. But because this arbitrary division between science and the church no longer has
any raison d’être, science could now claim for itself a broader field of investigation, if it wanted to.
And yet it has failed to do so, except in the case of a few avant-garde interpreta​tions of quantum
physics.

***

Can I ask one more thing? I have a problem with the fact that you are localized. You talk about
awareness as having no boundaries and yet you are localized to your body, you move around with your
body. How does that work?

That which is localized and limited is that which is experienced, not that which does the experiencing.
How could we logically infer, from the limitations of that which is experienced, a corresponding
limitation of that to which the experience is presented?

So you are saying that that which experiences your experience is the same as that which experiences
my experience?

Yes, but that is not a logical proposition. The logical proposition is that there is no valid reason or
evidence to believe the opposite, that consciousness is personal and limited. But the overwhelming
majority of us take it for granted—we have been conditioned to do so, and it is accepted as common
sense. But if you think about it, if you revisit the issue, any limitations applying to that which is being
observed have no relevance to the question of whether or not that which observes is subject to any
limitation.

If that were true, wouldn’t you expect to have some kind of telepathic union with my experience?

Telepathic union would mean a communication from mind to mind, not from consciousness to
consciousness. I’m not saying that mind is not limited, or that minds are not separated; they clearly
are. Minds are separated, at least in the states of mind which are most common. We cannot exclude the
possibility of other states of mind, which vary from individual to individual, and last for a longer or
shorter time, where this separation is not the case. But minds do seem to be separate in the sense that
you are alluding to, and that’s fine. That, however, doesn’t tell us anything about consciousness.
 If there happened to be a telepathic communication between minds, and if we were able to exclude
any possible communication by any known physical phenomena, then the logical inference would be
that both minds were connected by the same consciousness.
But I am going much further than that. I will put to you a sim​ple question. Even in normal
communications, without telepathy, how is it that we can understand each other? How is it that we can
communicate, as we are doing right this moment? If it were true that we are one hundred percent
separate, how could meaning be shared? My contention is that when we talk, the words don’t contain
the meaning; they simply point in a certain direction. When we look in this direction we go beyond
the words, which are just sym​bols in the separate minds; in fact we go beyond the mind, which is the
realm of symbols, and we fall into the domain of intelligence. This is not my intelligence or your
intelligence, because in the domain of intelligence there is no separation or division. And this is what
we call, in ordinary language, “understanding each other.”
Why are we certain that we have shared an understanding? It is because when the understanding
was shared, we were one. Once when I was studying mathematics at the university I was working on a
problem with two of my colleagues, at the blackboard. Often we would be faced with very difficult
problems, and on occasion we worked together, with deep concentration, for an hour or more, and
with all of us well acquainted with every aspect of the problem. Suddenly, one of us would find the
solution; he would say just one word, and immediately the other two would know, without any doubt,
“Yes! He’s got it! This is the answer!” The understanding and the certainty were not contained in
anything that was objec​tively communicated. The three of us were on the verge of going into the
understanding, and when one went the others immediately followed.
Even understanding at this relative level takes place in a different space, in a different dimension.
It takes place in the timeless and spaceless dimension of consciousness.
When you investigate quantum physics, you discover that there are interesting theories about the
basic nature of matter which put consciousness at the heart of things. The scientific community has
been reluctant to attribute a central place to consciousness because consciousness is usually construed
as being personal. Scientists were rightfully reluctant to envisage such an interpretation of physics
because of its anthropocentrism. They found repugnant the idea of placing the human species at the
center of the universe. But the moment you become open to the possibility that consciousness is not
personal but universal, then this obstacle is removed.

***

Could you tell me how the relation between the relative and the absolute applies to the subject of
beauty? Some people believe that when you talk about beautiful music you include classical music but
exclude rap.

The experience of understanding and the aesthetic experience are analogous. If a thought is
understood but is not a thought about the ultimate truth, the absolute, then the understanding is relative
understanding. If the understood thought is about our true nature, consciousness, then the
understanding is a glimpse of absolute truth, or a mystical experience. A thought about the absolute
makes this possible because a thought about consciousness is different from any other thought. It has
a unique quality: it leads directly to its referent, consciousness. It exists in its referent, it comes out of
its referent, and it leads to its referent. When the thought about consciousness disappears into
understanding it delivers the experience of consciousness. It is unlike any other thought. The thought
“ice cream” and the thought “table” don’t leave you with an ice cream or a table when you understand
them. So the unique nature of a thought about consciousness is that it delivers that of which it is a
symbol. This is possible because it comes from consciousness and it has this vanishing quality.
Similarly, in the realm of sense perception, a beautiful object would correspond to the thought
about the absolute. A beautiful object is an object which, by design, has this self-vanishing quality. It
comes from beauty, disappears into beauty, and has the power to take us there. Often, a beautiful
object is not complete. In the fine arts, it is not like a photograph where every detail is given and there
is no room for your imagination to supply the missing pieces. With an incompletely represented
work, the hints are given but your imagination has to join up the dots. As you join up the dots, you go
beyond the realm of symbols and into the realm of understanding. This is how a work of beauty takes
you into the spiritual realm.
At the level of sensations and feelings, the analogy is with love. A loving feeling is an experience
that merges into oneness, the one​ness of love that is found through merging with nature or with
another being.
The way to the absolute is threefold: the path of intelligence, where thought merges into truth; the
path of feeling, where feeling merges into the oneness of love; and the path of sense perception,
where sense objects merge into divine beauty. The three approaches converge onto the one center,
which contains happiness as well as truth, love, and beauty. These four qualities are undeniable; they
partake of certainty and are self-evident. For example when you are happy you don’t need anyone to
say to you, “Do you know what’s happened, do you know you are happy?” You can be unhappy or
resentful without knowing it, but you cannot be genuinely happy without knowing it. Happiness has
this autonomous, self-evident quality, just as when thought merges into truth, or in other words, when
a thought merges with its understanding. When you under​stand, you are uniquely autonomous—on
your own in your own glory.

***

I want to check this out: that which experiences is, I believe, impartial and still. So that if an act of
brutality occurred in the world, from the viewpoint of presence it would just be the world doing its
thing, while presence continued as the detached witness.

At the level of presence, there is creating as well as seeing. That which we experience is also that
which we create, as consciousness. We are the witness of our own creation at every moment. In fact to
create and to see are the same. It is similar to the understanding of quantum physics, where to take a
measurement and to come into existence are inseparable.

But is it less likely to happen in the everyday world than in the world of high art?

That which prevents us from seeing the beauty in everyday happenings is our fear of death. This fear
creates a resistance, and negative emotions which, by fostering likes and dislikes, act as a filter. For
example, we don’t really see the painting; we see our own likes and dislikes. We don’t allow the
painting to take us to beauty.

So anything could take us to beauty. It doesn’t really have to be a beautiful thing; it becomes beautiful
if it takes us to beauty.

Well, that’s true and not true at the same time. Every object, by nature, takes us to beauty. But there are
some objects which take us to beauty by design, such as true works of art, the sayings of a sage, and
acts of true compassion, love, or innocence. They take us to our true nature by design, because they
come from there and still have the radiance of their high origin. We see the radiance, and the radiance
in us is awakened.

So you could say that all phenomena have the same quality?

Potentially, any object, any situation, can take us to presence. But practically speaking, there are some
situations, some objects, whose mission is to take us to presence. They are angels, sent by presence to
deliver the message and take us back. A work of art is such an angel.

***

I’m interested in intuition. It seems to have a different origin than thinking. Can you say anything
about intuition?

Intuition is a thought or an image in the mind that doesn’t originate in memory. Since it arises directly
in consciousness and comes from the higher source which contemplates the totality, an intuition may
carry information which couldn’t have come to us from the usual channels of the mind. It may have a
cosmic quality to it. The intuition of a poem, a work of art, a scientific breakthrough, or even the
solution to a practical problem of our daily lives, comes from this place.
The function of intuition is to bring something new into this world. It is a “vertical evolution”;
whereas the usual evolution within the world is linear and subject to the law of causation: that which is
going to be, tomorrow, is simply the development of that which is now. The mind, when it functions
from memory, is like a biocomputer which doesn’t create anything new; it just takes the data which
has been fed into it, processes it according to its program, and gives it back in a different form; it has
no access to intuition. But when the higher source strikes the mind, it is transformed; that which
remains after this visitation is a brand new thought. It may be the seed of a poem, or the germ of a
discovery, but it is a gift from a higher source. This explains creativity and the emergence of
meaning.

I have the feeling that intuition is generally undervalued, that if it were more generally recognized we
could use it more to create a better world. I believe that the Renaissance could be the usual state of the
world.

When we are exploring an issue, the solution is more likely to appear when we relax. Although this is
a common experience, we fail to understand that the intuition comes from a higher source.
Your reference to the Renaissance is interesting. Whenever free​dom of thought is oppressed in a
certain area, people who are in love with truth will find other avenues of expression. If they are
denied freedom of religion they will become philosophers; if they cannot be philosophers they will
become scientists; if they cannot be scientists they will be artists. They will always find ways to
connect with this source because it is so powerful.
It is a great privilege to live at a time of extraordinary freedom of religion. We are free to
assemble and explore these matters with​o ut any fear of being killed or imprisoned. There have been
only a few periods in history when this has been possible.

***

Previously you were talking about great works of art as having the capacity to lead to presence. I
enjoy art which you might call negative; I enjoy its profundity. Eduard Munch’s The Scream is a
classic example. T. S. Eliot’s Wasteland points towards a consciousness of despair and fragmentation,
but I enjoy it and I consider it a work of art. There are many works of art which reflect very dark
states, which don’t necessarily, in themselves, point towards presence, and yet, somehow, their
profundity touches me.

You can create a drawing by using black charcoal on a sheet of white paper, or you can use white
chalk or crayon on a black paper. The second type, which is less common, is one in which, although
the subject matter of the work expresses discord or anguish, the benevolent indifference with which
the artist contemplates it takes us back to the source. It’s more tricky, but I can think of some
successful examples: certain short stories by Guy de Maupassant which are very dark. Where this
approach is successful the novelist never judges his characters. So the notion of a doer is removed
from the depiction of these horrifying events. There is a benevolence in the description. Even though
what is described is unbearable, the way it is described points towards compassion and love and
benevolence.

A lot of Western art depicts very dark states of the mind.

Well, there are many definitions of art. If we choose as our definition, “that which points towards
presence,” not every exhibit in a gallery can be called art. I must say that when I visit museums I walk
straight past many of the paintings—not only modern paintings but also those from the nineteenth and
eighteenth centuries. Only a few attract me, so I spend time in front of the Vermeers and the
Rembrandts and the Cézannes and a few others. I am in love with presence, so the only music or art
that I find interesting is that which points towards presence. We will resonate with that sort of art if we
love harmony and beauty and truth.

Couldn’t we also love honesty and authenticity? Many artists of the early part of the twentieth century
depicted the grotesqueries which respectable society tried not to acknowledge.

For me, the fine arts do not have a “message” that can be formulated. If a message can be formulated
in words, you might just as well use the words. Art is a message that cannot be formulated through
words and must be conveyed through the senses where we are touched at a very deep level.
In the case of poetry we use words but the words create a work of art which has the properties of
the senses—color, music, rhythm, and the like. It is not something that can be rationally formulated.
I remain cold in front of any political art such as the art of the Third Reich, the art of the Soviet
period, or Guernica. Political art is propaganda. Whether its cause is just or not, it has moved away
from the true meaning of art, which is to point to God. I’m not condemning other forms. Reading
thrillers is entertaining, but it’s not art. We shouldn’t confuse that which belongs in the realm of
presence with that which is pure distraction.
Compare Rembrandt’s paintings with those of his contemporaries. Rembrandt shows the soul: the
innocence, the purity, and the beauty. His contemporaries used the same techniques to depict the
bourgeois prestige of their sitters.

Often the artists were unaware of what they were doing. Many led dysfunctional lives, Mozart for
example, and yet they were able to channel presence.

I don’t know about Mozart. He spent a lot of his time composing, being with his beautiful music.
Occasionally he had to take a break and he went to the pub. But he was obviously highly spiritual as
evidenced by his sacred music, operas, and piano concertos. We know that Beethoven was also a
spiritual man.
But the artist is not necessarily a sage. The artist is more some​o ne who has discovered that he, or
she, knows this great happiness in the creative moment, when this intuition comes to them. Perhaps
they are one step below knowing their true nature: that this happi​ness is who they always are.

The things which we consider not to be beautiful—violence, aggression, laziness, or whatever—are
they not also a part of consciousness, and equally valid?

They are part of consciousness, but definitely not equally valid.

If consciousness is one, how can I divide it and say that some parts are more valid than others?

At the absolute level, which knows no distinctions, consciousness is one, and there are no parts in it.
There is nothing to compare! At the relative level, the level at which distinctions are made, there are
parts, and you have to acknowledge that some are more and some are less valid. Having split
consciousness into parts, you cannot then refer to the fact that consciousness is one, in order to
prevent any distinctions between the parts which you have yourself distinguished. You have to be
consistent. Either it’s one, and then there are no parts, which is fine; or there are parts, in which case
some parts can be valid and others not.

That’s what I was asking, “Is ugliness not just as valid as beauty?”

Your question, which makes a distinction between ugliness and beauty, is asked at the relative level. At
this relative level the answer is “no.” At the absolute level, from the vantage point of consciousness
there is not a question. Someone once asked the sage, Krishna Menon, “Why is there diversity?”
He replied, “In your question, by asking ‘why,’ you have intro​duced causality. You have granted
causality by asking the question, ‘why.’ You are asking for the cause of duality, but by doing so you
are creating duality.”

***

So, should one give up all questioning?

If you give up all questioning, you get no answers.

To me, it feels as if there really are no answers.

Don’t crush questions. If you give up questioning while you still have questions, you are simply
postponing the questions and postponing the answers.

But I still feel that, at the absolute level, there really are no answers.

I understand that you have no answer but my question to you is, “Do you have a question?”

Generally, or right this moment?

Both.

Yes, questions still arise.

What is your question?

I’ve been to satsangs for a few years now and my mind kind of understands what is said, but I find it
stupid that I still fall into bad habits. That is my question for right now. Why do I not give up being
stupid?

In satsang, at least in this satsang, it’s OK to be stupid. We are not aiming at changing any behavior.
You are not asked to let go of being stupid. You are asked to let go of the one who is allegedly being
stupid. That’s different.
Don’t judge yourself and don’t judge others. Instead find out who it is that is allegedly being
stupid and that you are trying to judge, and find out who is the judge. You will see that there is neither
judge nor defendant. Be a friend to yourself, not a prosecutor.
When you observe a recurring habit, instead of judging yourself by being disappointed, be happy.
You have cause for delight, for you can say, “I am aware of it! I am noticing it!”
That is a necessary first step. If you chain smoke without even being aware that you are taking the
cigarette out of the pack, how can you ever stop? The moment you decide that you want to stop,
because it’s bad for your health, and you become aware of this desire to reach for a cigarette, you are
moving in the right direction. I know from experience.

***

I often ask myself, “What is it that I can know for sure?” The answer seems to be that I can have an
awareness of thoughts, feelings, and sense perceptions. Those thoughts, feelings, and sense
perceptions are always changing and therefore, by inference, the awareness must be unchanging, or
otherwise I wouldn’t be able to perceive the change.
Anything beyond that seems to be a construction of the mind, and there​fore any attempt to judge a
particular way of thinking as right or wrong could be useful, but nothing more than useful. And yet
despite all that, there is still the feeling that I am not being fulfilled. So what is it that’s missing?

What you have said is true; all we can know for certain is that there is consciousness and beingness,
beingness meaning that there is “something rather than nothing.” There is reality and there is
consciousness aware of this reality, whatever this reality is.
We will feel unfulfilled—that there is something missing—as long as we, in the back of our minds
and in our bodies, carry the residue of the belief that this consciousness is limited to a particular
person; we will still be carrying the seed of separation.
We have to go deep into ourselves, and discover just what it is that prevents us from being open to
the possibility that there is only one consciousness.

How can we get a sense of urgency about this?

When it comes to seeking the truth we are like a donkey; the stick and the carrot both work. When we
feel miserable it is because we are doing something wrong; it’s that simple. And if we feel happy it is
because we are doing something right. When we start feeling the stick, we try to find out what we’re
doing wrong. That will place us in the right direction and then we start tasting the carrot. In this way
we become smarter and smarter, like the donkey, and we need the stick less and less. We develop our
sensitivity to carrots and our ability to follow carrots, until we catch the carrot.

For information about Retreats and Dialogues with Francis Lucille, and for details of videos, books,
and cassettes, please see his Web site, www.francislucille.com.