Posts Tagged 'thoughts'



234. Segovia and the quiet spot

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Mooji showed up in front of me, when I was going through videos to enjoy but I moved on every time. Now I stopped and let him speak. He is like an old friend that I love deeply. So my heart opens. What will he say now?

In everything that he says and in the way he moves, I feel that-infinite-space attending, just like my own one right now. I realize that I came to like the taste of this state. It starts to be familiar.

And he says that when a troublesome event comes up and we have a shock, a fear, or we are being shockingly and fearfully agitated, the thing to do is to find the quiet spot that is always there too, and go into this, stay in this.

 

And this is what this reminds me of:

When both of Segovia’s parents died and he was left alone in his world, he was some six years old, or maybe less. He was very sad, and I am crying for this sadness now because I feel some of it. Somehow there was someone there who knew what to do. He or she put Segovia (little Andre) on the train with all his belongings and sent him to his grandfather in another city.

Grandpa took him from the station and brought him home. For Segovia this was a strange person who he did not know. Grandpa sat Segovia on a chair and sat himself on another chair facing Segovia and in his hands he had his guitar. Segovia did not play guitar yet.

Grandpa made a chord.

Segovia cried.

Grandpa made another cord.

Segovia cried more.

And so they went. Grandpa played chords and Segovia cried, until Segovia smiled.

This was his introduction to his grandpa. And this is what brought the guitar to his life. And it was also his introduction to that different love that comes with insight and cannot be broken.

You see? Whatever life brought, whatever emotional response he had, he went to this direct-no-story effect of the sounds and this became his quiet spot. Maybe at first he did not even perceive the sweetness of the chord. Eventually he fell in love with it.

 

Maybe you do not immediately feel the huge, deeply joyful, childishly curious, absolutely peaceful character of the inner peace. But with many visits it becomes inevitable that the taste will come through. And there will be a sweet love that has just awakened in your heart, that will take you there again and again and it will be your home, the only place where there is no contradiction whatsoever between you and the place. And with no contradiction, you are the place and the place is you. And so it goes for everything.

(As for the story about Segovia, I hope it is close enough to the truth. I heard it on public radio long ago. The details may have been somewhat different but the core is true.)

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.

230. Who is the free one?

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It is on the longish side today and a bit psychological.

I started to draw when I had a very strong pain. I held on to the act of drawing as to something that saved me from sinking in a bog of pain. I did not want to loose my humanity. I also held on to drawing because I wanted to have some sort of a backbone, when everything else was breaking apart to meaningless good-for-nothing, directionless pieces.

The top left part, where I started the lines, is a possible visual interpretation of pain, sharply spreading, attacking everything in all directions.

Then I left the stage, so to speak. The first spontaneous burst of drawing calmed me down a little, and my by-now-natural-tendency to go deeper into myself, to allow for a deeper view to emerge took over.

This created, still in the ’lines’ department, a pen-like thing, thin and clumsy, self-guarding like a soldier in uniform, standing straight and holding with one hand this grand explosion, almost as if it is a flower. I did not think this thought when I drew. I just drew what came to me, basically not knowing what I was doing. Or you can say, I was trusting my inner guidance.

This soldier is supported by a complicated and inefficient scaffolding, in yellows and browns. The yellow color does not give a sense of strength to the scaffolding.

This scaffolding has another shape, in green, connected to it on one side. In that shape, there are teeth that are pointing inward, like an aggression that is directed inward.

I can almost say that it feels as if the scaffolding is trying to push this green part away, but can’t get rid of it. (The colors don’t feel good together.)

The color areas create two layers. To say it in a short way, the blue is behind everything else.

The layer of the pink, browns, yellows and reds is like an emotional echo of what the lines do. In the middle there is the aggression in all directions (in pink), and the rest are all the broken parts, including the spectacularly dramatic yellow in the upper left corner. There is drama there, no doubt.

In blue there are bridges above and under each other in what can go on forever without giving a sense of meaning, since it does not seem to matter if you go up or down. This adds to the meaninglessness.

So what did the diving-in bring up?

A big confusion, happening without any clear purpose, destructing something emotional while holding on as much as possible to the figure of the soldier, as the protagonist, who is being propped up somehow by a needlessly complicated scaffolding and showing off its anger as a flower.

Wow.

Or maybe I should say woe.

Isn’t the soldier like the ego? So fearful, so lost and confused, but pretending to be strong, accompanied by self-hatred, and displaying some dramatic fireworks while feeling so limited.

So what good is that for? What did I gain from drawing?

Seeing that this pain event creates such a sorry state requires two participants.

One is the event itself with all that happens. The second is the seer, the one who witnesses. And you have to admit that the seeing is pretty comprehensive, psychologically speaking. The pain has become a richer event, with self-hatred, with the inflexibility and fear of the ego, with all that is constructed to keep the ego in place, with the complexity of what holds the ego in place, and with displaying the drama almost as a way to decorate the ego.

First came the initial scream. The viewer at that point was the ego himself. Then, with calming down, it became possible to choose a different perspective to look from, by using a different style of consciousness. Instead of the narrow style, of one thought after another, of cause and effect along the same path, the attention started to be given to everything at once, to all the participating shapes and the way they relate to each other.

When there is a strong emotional response, one thing becomes the most important one, while everything else disappears from view. But from the wider view, the relative importance of the pain diminishes, and all the parts and their relationships can be seen at once. So you see the whole structure of the event. It does not have a purpose and it does not have a hero.

How does consciousness change?

Just by making art, in which composition is of the most importance. If you want to make something that has beauty for you, you must pay attention to the composition. When you do that, the diving into a wider (and deeper) state happens on its own. I am talking here about why art is so powerful as the initiator of wellbeing.

With this deeper view and with the associations that arise, you start to know the complete situation, or you see in a more complete way than before.

Being in this relatively deeper state is pleasant. It gives a sense of control, of knowing, of peace and of being strong and unaffected by the suffering. It surely is a better state than the one it depicts.When I came to this stage, I did not feel the pain any more.

Before, when the pain was the most important thing, getting rid of it seemed to be the prerequisite for feeling better.

Now you become interested in changing the situation, not because you do not want to feel the pain but because you want to be in a different state, the state of the viewer. It is a totally different ballgame. You don’t need to have no pain in order to be happy. Happiness is yours by changing your perspective. It is insight. It is wisdom.

It is a big and meaningful change that is right under our noses.

If you do this many times, it becomes a habit. Suffering then leads you deeper and you feel better. You teach yourself to be free.

 

 

 

 

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.

 

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?

222. Who won’t twitch their feet when they are tickled?

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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?

 

158. Your heart is green

The way the roots develop

The way the roots develop

The way the roots develop

Is by inclusion of the earth

That is around them

The earth drinks the thoughts of the sky

And if you look at

How the earth is speaking body language

You’ll see

That the intensity of your pain

Is gone

Your fields are organized and loved

Your heart is green.

It is about my nerves growing, eating what the body has to offer them. The thoughts of the sky that feed the earth are my thoughts that create my body, and having changed my thoughts, the body, which is earth too, responds accordingly.

This is what my intuition says.

141. Flying is daring

I came to my desk at around 5AM again. I made the drawing that you see here. I wrote what parts of the drawing conveyed to me. I scrambled the sentences and rewrote them in a new order. I read. It did not make much sense to me, so I left it on the desk, to see it in the morning.

In the morning I immediately saw that it was a very coherent advice from my intuition. I want to show you how these things work, because you can do it too. Maybe at first it will feel strange and untrustworthy. But as you do this more times you will start seeing that it never fails to deliver something of importance, assisting you on your path. I am not the only one who has a guide inside of him. Everybody has. Listening to this guidance, you know that you are never alone. You know that you are loved. Basically you realize there is no problem anywhere. There is only your free will, choosing to allow the flow of who-you-are, or resisting it.

Trees do not think

Trees do not think

Be very forceful and decisive now

Thinking is like flying to places

It is hard to hold all this in your head

Look at your neighbor the tree

This is the way the air goes through it

The pipe is open and listening

And remember:

Flying is daring.

Now if you look at the drawing you’ll see the little tree near the base, in yellow.

The flesh color part, as if turning toward something, which is outside and being strong and with a specific intension, made me write the first line.

The green shape in the upper right, made me write about flying.

The violet and the dark pink, looking like a living thing breathing, made me write about the pipe, open and listening.

The circle in the upper middle part of the drawing made me think about a head that carries everything.

The flying part brought another sentence about thinking as flying.

The light blue little balloon-like shape, under the head and slightly to the left, made me write the sentence about air.

The tree is a being that has no thoughts to block the flow of what-it-is.

Now when I read the poem, this is what comes to me from the reading:

I am still in the process of healing. It has gone well. Maybe it is the last step. I have to be decisive and keep my focus on being healthy.

My thoughts will take me where I want to go. They will fly me, as it came in the original sentences.

It is hard to do all this from the head, meaning through thoughts of the limited “I”.

This part knows only about differences among things. If you want to go west, thoughts about the east will come up too and the two directions will have to fight with each other. The fighting makes you tired and you lose the focus.

The only way to do it right is through the heart, meaning, opening your mental and emotional being to become a non-resisting pipe, to allowing who-you-truly-are flow through you. This flow, if not hindered, is the solution to everything. It always has a focus and since health is inherent in it, it will bring health, if you want it.

The daring has to do with trusting the unknown to guide you.

When you see in your experience that the unknown loves you and can guide you if you are willing to be guided by it, the trusting becomes easier. The daring becomes a habit.

135. The greens that look so real

I haven’t written for the blog for a while. I kept drawing every day and reading my drawings. Sometimes I drew more times than in other days. Basically these are all processes that you have seen me doing before. Discovering blockages and dissolving them, expressing experiences of expanded states, asking intuition and getting answers.

Doing this process is the best thing I have ever done in my life. And I have done a lot before this. I illustrated more than 40 children’s books, I wrote three of them. I know I have helped many people change their lives for the better, I raised three children, I showed my art, I got lost in making art silk screen prints until my money ended, I left New York for two and a half months when I had an exhibition in Germany and when I came back I lost all my illustration clients and changed my career. A few of my illustrations are still going around the world with an exhibition of political illustrations done for INX. I had spiritual experiences and spent twelve years in intense meditation. I did a lot more. I went back to school to study art therapy at age 58, I presented my method of using intuition through art in conferences and in some cases people were so moved that they had tears in their eyes.  I know I have already done a lot. But this, taking care of my own development through using my own method, has been the best thing I have ever done. This has deepened my understanding of myself and of others and made me into a much better therapist or healer. I discovered my ability to read people from far and know what to do to help them. And I am still learning. All this burst of growth in my late sixties came from this work that I am doing on myself. This work is my meditation, my prayer, my connection to the truth, my expansion.

I am so sure about the strength and benefits of this method that I am now making arrangements for teaching it to people who are interested in using it for themselves and for helping others. It works much better than traditional psychotherapy. I have already started teaching it to a few.

The following picture and poem are just where I am today.

The greens that look so real

The greens that look so real

The greens that appear so real

Are the children of thoughts

The lovely earth, ploughed with horses

And crops growing

Near the vivid blue

Are all the children of thoughts

Made in the open space

Of eternal love. 


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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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