
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.
Healing and growth through intuitive art

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.

In this painting there are three major systems:
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.

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.
****************
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.

When I illustrated ’The Chanukah Tree’ I was in a period in my illustration in which I was very aware of every single brushstroke that I made. It had to feel a certain way. I can remember the feeling that I sought. Now imagine: How many brush strokes were there in the book and in all the illustrations I did through many years? Numerous. right? And I did this every single day.
Here in the room I hanged an illustration from this book.The picture at the top is part of it.
The people of the story and a few unknown characters run excitedly, on their main street at night, to see the stranger and his strange car driving through their Christmas-night village-center.
Before starting with the individual colors of each person and object, I did seven layers of under-painting that covered the whole area of the illustration with brush-strokes, and I paid attention to how every brushstroke related and combined with the other brushstrokes.
This created the darks and lights of the illustration. It was a night scene and I wanted it to have the darkness feeling of the night. I did all these in one day between eight in the morning and something like seven in the evening, almost non stop. Then I walked through the neighborhood to another home there, to bring my daughter home from her friend.
I did not think about it at all but I was in a deep meditative state. A group of four big-bodied youngsters stopped me. One aimed a pistol at my heart and told me to be quiet. Another strangled me from behind, so I won’t be able to move. I was peaceful and had no fear. I looked into the eyes of the guy with the pistol and nothing was going through my head. The pressure on my throat felt uncomfortable. I took the strangling hands away from my throat with no much effort (he did not resist) and started to walk , as if nothing happened, continuing toward the house where my daughter was.
If you are into every brush-stroke in an artwork that you make, if you feel them all, you are meditating, and it has a very good effect on you.
If you feel everything that you do to make sure it feels as you want it to feel, and it is up to you how you want it to feel, you are meditating. It means: You are coming from your true self. It is so close.

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?

Thoughts/things
Maybe it is strange, but these days nothing is more pleasant to me than sitting quietly somewhere and watching the interface with the quiet space that is always there, seeing how a few moving things in my mind calm down, feeling the body relaxing and staying there.
A person passes in the street on his bicycle and I feel this somewhere in my energy field, as if it happens there. I feel a stirring of a little, very pleasant excitement and then it goes away. I see it as if it is a thought.
The quiet space is alive. If I tune in to it, I know, thoughts like the one that is a person on a bicycle, are moving in it. There are stirrings like this in different depths. They all belong to something infinite that lives its inner life in this way, creating interest and feeling it.
I suddenly understand babies, twitching their feet when they get excited. They experience the stir in the infinite space when their wordless thoughts move. They feel as if it is a tickle. And who won’t twitch their feet when they are tickled?

One of us complained about a headache. It was the evening talk on a retreat. We all sat around our master. And it was way into the night. When he finished talking this friend raised his hand and complained.
Your headache is just a wandering thought, the master said.
I don’t remember what was spoken after that because this sentence hit me strongly. I would not be able to explain it, but I knew that this was true.
I also had a headache. I was exhausted from the intense concentration that I used in my meditation all through the day.
Soon after the conversation ended we meditated again. The sentence repeated itself in my head. It is true, I thought. The way my body feels is a wandering thought. And just like with every other wandering thought, I can let it go.
Then there was an explosion in my neck. The head was blown away. The throat remained torn to scraps. I saw this clearly as I was floating in the air behind myself. I was very peaceful and in wonder. There was no time.
Now I understand some of it. The pain is a result of a thought. This is clear. Everything that we experience is a result of thoughts that we believe. The experience is not always exactly as we anticipate, but it always matches our vibrational state.
My teacher and many other teachers never explained this. They prefer to leave things mysterious. Or they do not want to give us the knowledge to change our reality. They want us to transcend it.
When I started the blog I knew that the pain and the malfunctioning of the body came from thoughts. I knew that if I released the beliefs that created the malfunctioning, the fundamental belief that creates the body in its healthy state would take back the controls and the body would heal. This is the direction that I took and there is the evidence for it in the blog. But I am still with the malfunction and the pain. Many times lately I felt desperate, tired of the struggle. I wanted to give up. But I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to rest. If it would lead to the death of the body than let it be so.
My essence, the truth of who I am, cannot be harmed.
I think part of my struggle is because I do not want to lose the fight with the powers that, as I imagined, wanted to block me from developing. This struggle belongs to a non-existent figure. I can let it go now. I wrote about this kind of struggle and I can write again in another entry. The interest in finding the way to heal myself should, as I truly believe and as I teach my clients, come from curiosity, playfulness, love, peace and joy. Coming from these energies that are the natural energy of all of us, it cannot be a struggle. It can only be a joy. There should not be a difference between the true expression of who I am and healing. In other words this means that in order to heal we need to be in the energy of the truth of who we are.
So I allowed myself to enter with my boat into the river of who I am, throw the oars away and let the stream take me.
All that I wrote after the end of the healing descriptions (after #58) was about living in the downstream direction.
When the pain is great I loose sight of this sometimes and the old I appears. Maybe I can allow the pain to kill me, bend me down and break me apart? Maybe I can let the head explode and disappear. I can live without a head.
Did a drawing this morning. This morning was a slow one. I woke up at four, drank tea with milk and stayed in bed, sitting with the backing of the couch’s pillow, and the meditation cushion supporting my head. I listened to Rupert Spira talking for a few minutes about how, after awakening, the allure of material, things, disappears. Then it was close to seven and I did everything of the mornings and ate. And here, at this table, I laid my head on my hands and rested again. It is amazing to me how tired I can be, that even after a good night sleep, which I did not have for so many years, I can be so tired still.
Now I have the new watercolor drawing in front of me and I think: Let’s see what is in it.
I can see density, as if it describes stones or packages that somehow got connected to each other in groups. Now we have a few clumps. The way the clumps relate to each other as a group of clumps, as a composition, gives a feeling of an effort. What is the effort? Maybe it is to stay together, while every one of them wants to go somewhere else. This is where the tension comes from.
There is one unfinished piece and it gives the effect of something that was left undone, unfinished. And maybe this effect creates another one, of something that happened in a haste. This whole group of clumps detached itself, or even better, tore itself away from something bigger and found itself free, but conflicted about where to go now. Now that they have freedom, what do they want to do with it?
And before, when I looked at the drawing and did not yet let the words come and tell me this story, the drawing looked like a stranger. How did it come here? What does it have to do with me?
And here we are now. The mirror spoke at last.
At first I thought this was going to be a boring drawing with no emotions, no story and nothing happens. As I worked on it, it felt almost like a drawing that came from thinking.
But it didn’t. I find it interesting now. It has a story. The story is whispered. Boiled down to the essence, the story is about real, beautiful, sweet and loving life, hidden in forms. The forms would seem to limit the life, but they can’t. Everything sings. It dances in the air, like the people and cows in paintings by Chagall. It whispers slight differences of colors and shapes. It completes itself as a composition, which is an expression of non-physical relations, involvements and collaborations. It could be called: The hidden joy of inner music.
If it were a person, it would just stand there, well dressed and quiet. But you would notice a very slight movement of an eyebrow and you’ll understand everything.
This drawing (The one at the top) is full of people. All of them are suffering. Their hard lives left marks on them. They are thinking all the time, remembering the harsh, the longed-for, the yearnings. They are colorful in a grey way. Each of them is a story of unchanging, of stagnating, of holding on and not letting go.
Who are they?
Why did they come to visit me this night?
What shall I do with them?
——————————
In the second drawing a woman who is also a girl appears, with a few house items. One of them is a baby’s play pan or bed. I know how we think, especially if we are therapists: There is something here about early childhood trauma, something about unhappy relationship between the baby and his mother. I don’t get excited any more by these story hints. The story is not so important as the release of its energy. Having done the drawing and having seen what is in it is enough for some releasing to have happened already.
—————————
In the next morning I look at the page and feel that the page wants another drawing down there. In this drawing strange creatures come out from a pipe or a cylindrical container and run away. They look like bad energy. The container they have escaped from is left transparent and empty. (There is no bad energy, folks. We consider bad if it is against what we want.)
————————————
Having not read the second drawing, does it mean that we do not really need the reading? Well yes. When we make art intuitively, the mere fact that intuition, which is a happy and flowing state, is the viewer of the unhappy beliefs, releases these beliefs (At least partially). There is an advantage to the reading though. The reading makes clear what happens in the subconscious. And when the reading shows that something was released, it is very convincing to the person whose process it is. Knowing that it has happened, that person will start to expect to be free of that belief, and this expectation creates his life to be without that hindering belief. But for me, who has done this process so many times, there is already the knowledge that a release has occurred. So I can do a shorter process. But in many cases I am still fascinated by the readings and continue to do them. They always bring more from the subconscious than what comes without them. This works specifically well if the reading is done intuitively too.