Archive for the 'The world of thoughts' Category



246. I just stopped

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I just stopped at some point

There was no point in going on

The message was in how it could go on

Forever.

240. Look back with your eyes closed

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Try this:

Close your eyes.

Sit comfortably somewhere of course.

Find something that your senses detect.

An example: The eyelids touching each other.

Imagine that your whole world is made of transparent clay. This clay makes everything and is not seen. This clay makes everything it wants. The things it makes appear to our senses.

Your clay creates the eyelids, the nerves that sense them touching each other and your same clay is the one who sees it all, from inside of itself.

Let’s say you hear a car on the road. Your clay is making it in this moment. Your clay is making the road. Your clay makes the sound. Your clay is making your ears and all their parts, right now.

What is this clay?

Why does it make these things?

Maybe out of curiosity? Out of the love of experiencing? Out of joy?

Playing like a baby?

Is it you?

Where does this clay come from?

 

Look back, from inside the clay, with your eyes closed.

 

239. The veil

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I looked at painting 7/3/16/A.

I started to read it again. Yesterday I read it psychologically (which you didn’t see), and the reading shifted to a bigger view of all psychology, as I’ve been doing lately. Obviously I am in a stage, in which I notice more and more the superficiality of the psychological realm altogether. I understand my meditation teacher’s belittling attitude towards everything psychological. I was, at the time he was doing this, studying psychology as part of becoming an art therapist.

For most people the psychological view widens and deepens their understanding of the human being. It was so for me too. How amazed and thankful I was when I realized that I could read all this hidden treasure in people’s art. And I played in this field for quite a while, enjoying my ability to easily see what is hiding there, and my resultant ability to help people see their own subconscious activity and release its powerful control over them.

Then, very quickly I saw that if you release a lot, you will experience how it is to live with less inhibiting ideas blocking you from being free. The psychological relief became a path of spiritual growth. I tasted the joy that becomes unleashed. I lived the love that streams freely unburdened.

And at some point it became clear to me that those psychological features, the killers of joy and freedom, are the building blocks of the personality. Just a small dip in the non-physical aspect of life makes it totally transparent that this character, this personality, is just a bunch of habits. You look from a deeper place and see the inflexibility of these personality traits as they inevitably cause people to bump into each other quite blindly, respond to each other uncontrollably and create all the unpleasant situations that we know.

Then you realize that what is left in you once these psychological features are let go of, is so much better than these.

What can be better than love?

What is wrong with joy that does not depend on circumstances, but is your inherent essence?

The whole psychological realm starts to look like a veil or a filter that you can look through. At first the view is dim and then it starts brightening. The veil looses all its previous power. Your personal veil becomes just one of the infinite number of empty energetic shapes, that you create in your imagined thought-world. And because you love the characteristics of your essence so much more than the personality’s character, your world starts to reflect back to you what you already experience, the beauty, the creativity, the joy and love. These are what the world is becoming for you.

 

 

 

236.The energy is left with no job

All the colors stand around me, in bottles, tubes and pencils. They are looking quietly at what I do. What will I say? They are my audience now.

I love them. They can do infinite things. They do not really look. I know. It is the whole who looks. The infinite listening-with-the-heart. The heart-of-listening. His name is I.

When the light of seeing is bright and strong, everything that is non-transparent burns into non-existence. Its energy is left with no job. It gives itself back to be used for creation.

The name of the creator is I too.

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It seems the light in the middle of the painting (the yellow and orange) is marred. It has been hit on the head.

Darkness (on the left) makes a threat. But the little child-who-flies is not afraid. He flies into the darkness to repair his past. He will find his love that he rejected in those old times. It is like the soul-retrieval that shamans do.

The goodness and the freedom-filled-joy, which is the lost part of him, will be found where it went to hide when it was not permitted to act in the world. It will be invited back and respected, loved, accepted, joined.

Again the lines tell the stories. The color shapes tell the emotions. The composition says that all is blessed, with all its tiniest details.

The white always looks with endless love and curiosity, with awe, with pride and marvel.

There is confusion there too, on the right, projecting a yes-no feeling.

Everything is okay.

 

The big yellow mother would like to say: Be careful!

But she knows that daring requires love and trust, and not carefulness. So she does not say a word. She admires her child.

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Yesterday in the morning I sat on the window seat and meditated. With all the lack of sleep that I collected, because of the pain, I fell asleep. I lost my balance and fell. I opened my eyes in the middle of the fall and saw the world turning around. But I was still asleep when my forehead hit the floor.

Then I woke up.

I felt fear and this conjured up memories from an event in my childhood, that now I saw more fully than before. Doors that were closed before, opened.

Fear cannot come if there is no story behind it. Falling cannot happen without a belief or a few beliefs that invite it. I know this is strange for some.

 

After some time I did this painting.

 

233. How the “I” moves to a wider view

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Being tired and in pain I became sad. Pain is a simple thing but living with it creates additional problems. Now all of them weighed on me. I thought: I can’t go on like this any more. I did not even paint yesterday and today.

My friend from Germany called. We started to talk and the phone line went dead.

I pulled a new piece of paper onto the table, dipped the brush into the water and into the first paint that my eyes saw in the watercolor box. It was olive green. This is how I choose the first color.

And then there was the drawing. No time. No pain. Brush, water, paint and the composition, the story with no words. The energy of the truth. Everything is good.

The olive green lines and the white of the paper are the best of friends. It is a holy connection. The lines, strikingly, appearing out of the white. The white does not have inside and outside. It is everywhere. It is all-there-is-everywhere. Even the word everywhere does not fit here. Is the green line real? And my eyes that see it: are they real? And my heart that has just become so full and so delighted, what about it?

(The other colors came later.)

 

Now in a different way:

Pain is part of the illusion of life, together with the body, with time, with good and bad.

The true self cannot have pain. Its essence is joy. Its essence is love and playing and being curious. The true self cannot be affected by the illusion.

For the “I” in the illusion pain is real and hard.

The good thing is that everything is connected. All I need to do is to change the way I focus and switch my identity to the true I.

Instead of focusing on the pain and automatically trying to escape it, to fight it, to prevent it, to change it, Instead of these, I find my curiosity and make the olive green lines. I find my playfulness and play with everything that shows itself. I look for the beauty in everything and find it easily. I look for my joy and it is right there. I am joyful. I look for my love and indeed what else do I have? This is how I start to identify with the true self.

And as I do this, I find that I have forgotten the pain. I don’t even feel it. Or if I do, it is not significant. I am in peace. The vibrations of the pain, the waves that streamed through the legs calm down. My hands that clutched one foot fall down, relaxed. The body rests. The energy of creation flows flawlessly everywhere it has to go. The body heals. The specific thinking processes that hold on to the body and its suffering become weaker. I am not so dependent on the body and the world around it. I witness them and I am free. In my mind I am already walking down to town, where the galleries are. I am going to see an exhibition. Right foot, left foot and I dance.

 

232. Come

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Be the light in you

Beyond the clouds of thinking

There are playgrounds

With no words

The sun will speak with you

Of being wild and transparent

Look

The sun has made a boot for you

And on the boot it wrote:

Come.

229. The blanket of words

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It looks to me at first that I have nothing to say. Then it comes to me that the balance is important. It is like a very complicated collection of so many different shapes and colors, and it all has to be in balance.

What do I mean by balance?

I mean that when you look at it you get a sense that in spite of its complexity, there is a guiding wisdom at work in it.  Some deep knowing is involved.

The impression (For me) is that all the shapes live in peace with each other and with everything that is in the picture. Every shape belongs to some group, based on sameness of color, shape, size, or other attributes, and it  may belongs to more than one group at the same time. Yet everything works together without conflicts. All the shapes and the groups do what they do within the same space. The may even overlap and mix. But they do not block each other.

There is an exercise that I used a lot in art therapy. Two people work together on the same artwork. They work in turns. Every one of them, instead of trying to support the other, makes sure of only one thing: That he or she keeps loyal to his/her own sense of beauty. When people work in this way, they come from a deeper place within themselves and they give their best contributions to the shared artwork. It is possible to live this way too.

Every individual truth (represented by one shape in the picture) is acted out with wholeness, and no individual truth is in contradiction to another inner truth.

This is possible only because the art-making is wordless. In our life as human beings there are oppositions indeed. These oppositions are only due to the stories that we tell, which are the way we interpret what happens to us. If you take the stories away from what happens, like lifting a blanket of words from something that lives a wordless life underneath, you discover a world of harmony.

So what is more real: The world of stories, or the world of experiences with no interpretation?

And which of these do you want to be in?

There is no right answer.

 

228. Imprisoned in his own choice

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In this painting there are three major systems:

  1. The lines, which are in purple, olive green and one little line is in blue.
  2. The areas of color that appear to be behind the lines.
  3. The red areas that are inside of shapes, delineated by some of the purple lines.

Many times it is enough to describe with words what you see in a picture, to know what it is about. This indeed is one of the ways to read art.

Here:

The system of lines that has its story, appears on the background of nothing. The story may be that the lines describe something, that some of them do something to other lines, that some are purple and some are in other colors, etc. The background of nothing is the white that has no features except that there are no colors and no shapes in it.

The system of colored areas appears behind the line system. The colored shapes system has its own story. It is not being told in continuous lines or shapes. Things appear mostly unconnected. But you can feel relationships. For example, you can feel that all the greens belong to each other because of having the same color. All the shapes, because of their general outline, which is softly rounded, without sharp points or angles, all of them are of the same kind. This whole system appears in the same proximity of the lines system, and therefore the two systems seem to be related to each other, as if they are parts of the same thing. How about seeing this as a person and his emotional system. (Here I went beyond just describing what I see. I added an idea that seemed to make sense to me.)

There is one shape among the colored areas that is different. It is the blue one that looks like a river or a road. It goes from close to us to another place far away that we do not see. This may be the path of life on which we float with ease or with struggles. (again, an interpretation. It can be something else too. But something that leads the eye far away, to where you cannot see the end, these can be seen.)

Now let’s take the reds, which got caught within some of the purple lines that created closed shapes. Usually in the picture, the lines go freely to wherever they go. They describe shapes, that you have a feeling are not finally determined. These shapes still can grow, shrink or move. But these areas that caught the red inside of them seem to be more final. Their muscles are stretched and tense, holding the red and preventing it from changing. This is where the happily and freely flowing human system is becoming hard and inflexible. This goes against the nature of free flow and therefore it is the place of suffering.

And all of this appears to play in an environment of no features (the white). This is not a physical portrait in a realistic environment. It is the inner experience of life, created in awareness and experienced in awareness, done and felt in the same moment. Doing and experiencing here are not separate.

And if you see that, where do you choose to place your identification? What part do you choose to be?

Here is another way to look at it:

There are two big systems that relate to each other harmoniously. There is no event  in that. Only a continuous flow. The two systems can go on and change together, every one of them in its own related way to the other. They can go on forever. But the minute the regularity is broken by an unusual behavior that occurred in a few parts, an event is created and it starts to be interesting. That’s life.

Where was the identification, when it happened?

It was in the parts that caught the red. “I must have this red in me,” said the ‘I’ who identified with these parts. Before, there was freedom there. But now the travelling ’I’ became imprisoned in his own choice.

 

127. The energies in the body and the thoughts that move them

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The intention was to paint the inside of all the shapes in the drawing, And to come out with the colors at the top of the shapes. First let me do the way that each color comes out and up a little bit from its designated area, I said to myself. These are the tricky areas. So let me do them first. But when I finished, it looked good to me just as it was. The strong contrast between the lines inside of the big areas (where the olive green lines are, where the other green lines are, where the red lines are, where the darker red areas are and where the blue lines are) and the white, gave these areas a lot of energy, and together with the way the lines curled and bent, as if they were in the middle of doing something, there was so much life inside if the shapes. I liked it and did not want to change.

So what do I get from this?

For me it feels like the energy of life inside of my body, about to explode. No. Not to explode, but to do something big, to do something loving and beautiful.

I looked at the drawing a day later and I still liked it. So it was time to sign.

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Everything is born out of thought.

My hand is the result of a thought. This is how it started and this is how it is being created again and again every very short time, like the way a movie is being created from some thirty pictures every second, that when shown continuously, look like something that moves naturally.

The thought that creates my hand has become a habit that is activated regularly. Based on another thought, which is the story of my life, images are chosen to create motion that will fit with the story of my life. I don’t know how all of this works, with all the details. If you want to understand it from the perspective of a human being, which is what we are of course, you will have many questions. And after they will be answered there will be so much more questions. The amount of details is beyond measure. We are dealing here with infinity, using our finite mind.

Whatever happened to my feet continues to happen so many times every minute. The minutes that have passed have gone out of my reach. Some people, who have the talent to see through the big consciousness of all of us, may visit these moments and see the process happening again. I think all of us can have (less controllable) access to past events in dreams, and in inner visions, connected to memories.

The habits of thoughts that keep creating the nerve damage and the resulting pain in my feet, started some 70 years ago. Do you think I need to visit that time in order to correct my thoughts and with the change of thought, the disease activity will stop?

But you see, the thoughts and the behavior of my energy, that creates this condition, are not those of seventy years ago. They happen right now, so many times every second. So it is enough to deal with what is here now.

There is still a lot to explore. But I’ll stop here. This is enough for one entry.

 

224.What really happens when we do not pay attention?

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In the foreground there is a gate and above it is the agitated activity of the lines that look like branches of a tree. When we come to the blue lines in the upper part, the character of the lines changes and becomes more like the movements of playing, wondering and inventing. See that?

The gate is closed, and some parts of it are broken, its color is light and there is no fence or a wall that the gate can open or close. It is only an idea that we cannot go in. In truth we can.

If we go in, we find strange, mysterious shapes that play together. They are trying to frighten us, maybe, but chuckle at the same time.

Both in the front parts and in the back parts, as we go up, we find more openness, more freedom and a suggestion of an infinite space.

In the front we have the more shallow aspects of life, the drama, the nervousness, the ideas of restriction. In the deeper part we find playfulness, joy and an interface with the endless.

Who is the protagonist in the picture?

Who invents the stories the dramas and the restrictions?

Who enjoys the game of the shapes inside?


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The healing process

Entries 1-58 show how I use the method of Intuition Through Art to heal myself from Peripheral Neuropathy.

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