Fallen Love

When I see you, when I lose myself to the irresistible sight of your eyes, to that evergreen noema, I like to light a cigarette and go back to Heidegger, I like to throw myself into that inexpressible abyss of rootless existence, into Dostoevsky’s night walks in Saint Petersburg, into Andrei Tarkovsky’s long shots and Nostalghia, those essential encounters in the inessential life of a child who lost his virginity to partial doubt and found it back in total doubt. My darling, for you I let go of all faith and hope, of all desires and aspirations, of heaven, and even of the desire of having you for myself. My darling, you make me want to remain a fallen man, and a fallen man I shall remain. Our union is the death of our love.

What is my faith but a pale image of you that I keep when I can’t see you; what need is there for faith when I can behold you?

Oh my dear, I am not just fallen; I have fell and still falling, falling in love with you and the enigma of your presence. But you are as fallen as me. You are as shattered as the impostors of your celestial beauty. For you I fall and shatter myself even more until we become entangled forever, separate but one. Your beauty is in my eye and I am in your beauty.

My abundant love for you is neither for you nor from me; it belongs to the abyss between us, a vacuum that sucks our vitality into itself; we will at last evaporate into oblivion and what remains of us and this love is nothing but the fleeting Hawking Radiation, the sperm of another fallen love.

Here I am

A dervish was tempted by the devil to cease calling upon God, on the grounds that God never answered “Here I am.” The prophet Khadir appeared to him in a vision with a message from God:

“Was it not I who summoned thee to my service? Was it not I who made thee busy with my name? Thy calling ‘God’ was my ‘Here I am.'”

Jalal-uddin Rumi

The Sole Dweller of The Void

What is the human receptacle but a prism that refracts the pure light of the One into the rainbow of infinite divine possibilities, the phenomenal world!

This world is lit and known with the light of a consciousness that comes from without and passes through within man.

Where I am not, the world too is not

But wherever I am, whether in dream or not, there always is a world lit,

Lit for me, through me, by the One, and in the One

What is light?!

Light is the invisible that makes visible.

Look around you: Where there is light you see everything except light itself. Where there is no light you see nothing. But light itself! No one has ever seen it, neither you nor the physicist, for light is that which makes manifest but itself remains unmanifest. The outer space is filled with light but is always dark! What is there to be lit except the giants?! None.

We have naively come to believe that it is us who are conscious of the world, little knowing that it is the One who is conscious of us being conscious of the world. It is in the light of his eternal glance that we see and see that we see.

This world, this impossible maze, is nothing but void lit when the light of consciousness is refracted by the Mind.

This world of objects and egos is all in the Mind of the One, as the dream world of objects and egos is all the one dreaming mind: The One is the conscious One; we are the subconscious many.

And where is the One?!

World is in the sight, not sight in the world,

The world that I see is within the seeing. Then, where is the seeing itself!

If I am seeing the world, then who is seeing my seeing!

The I is not in the world; it is the world that is in the eye, and the eye in the I.

The One is not anywhere; it is the where that is in the One

The One is all that there is

The face of the One:

The One that is in front of you, the One that you mistake for the world, that One is neither an object nor a subject; It is that within which subject and object are the Yin and the Yang: That One is your very seeing itself. That invisible within which everything is made visible. That one is a verb my friend.

We see the world in the face of the One

How can one see the One and not recognize it? The One is the one who is always already known and recognized: The One is the most self-evident one. Now, what is that which we always recognize at the sight of it? It is not the seen, the heard, the imagined and the thought; it is that through which the seen, the heard, the imagined and the thought come to be:

The One is the very seeing itself, the very hearing itself, the very thinking itself, … in and through which this world is what it is.

The One is the Heraclitean Flux of pure consciousness within which this world appearance makes its first and final appearance.

To see the One as the One and not as the world the seeker must not look into the world. Cosmos is in the world; heaven and hell are in the world; gods and prophets, angels and demons, minds and brains, religions and traditions, sciences and philosophies are all of the world and in the world; but the One is not in the world: The One is the very Being of the world itself; it is neither inside nor outside it, for inside and outside too are all in the world.

The One cannot be found by looking; the One is the very looking itself.

How can the One be found when there is nothing but the One!

Who is to look? Who is to be found? And where?

Where there is only one thing nothing can be found by looking 

To see the One the seeker must look into the seeing itself, into the hearing itself, into the thinking itself, into the ceaseless stream of consciousness. That is where the piercing eyes of the One, The Sole Dweller of the Void, are concealed by the veil of the world. The one who sees the One must die.

Stare into the unforgiving abyss of looking

Die as the one and rise as the One

The Ecstasy of Consciousness

The now is a whirling Dervish; it whirls and it worlds.

The Dervish sees; the Dervish sees,

A seeing that hides; a seeing that shows,

A seeing that lets be; a seeing that lets go,

One veils; one unveils,

One is the farthest; one is the nearest,

One is the eye; one is the I.

But, alas, how easily the trance slips past our hasty glance!

The Grand Magician told us this secret:

Yearn and remember,

The truth is not in holding; it is in withholding

He looked away and sighed,

This world is a mirage in the vacant gaze of the One  

Aphorisms On The Knowledge of Truth

Much of the seeking after truth fails because we seek it as a human beings seeking to find something. Truth is not something to be found or known in any human sense of the word. A man who seeks to find the truth is like a man who is searching his dream trying to find the room in which he is asleep having the dream.

No amount of self reflection can help us find the “I” in us; it is never there. The “I” is never found by seeking because it is the very thing doing the seeking. When we cannot find something we are looking for it doesn’t necessary mean that it is not there; it could also be that what we are looking for is either ourselves or something already in our possession. But if it were never there to begin with, neither with us nor elsewhere, then how on earth did we come to think or talk about it, let alone seeking it?!

If the consciousness of the atheist cannot find God anywhere it could be because God is the one providing the light of his consciousness!

Knowledge of truth is not a human possibility; our humanity is itself the very thing that keeps us from knowing the truth.

One may even say that to know the truth is to know that there is nothing to know, hence nothing to seek, and hence nothing to lose.

Faith: The Quintessence of The Path

One must first seduce the world into that notorious journey. One must have already offered the world all that one has and all that one is, to have treated the world like one’s own child, with unconditional love, for the idea of the journey doesn’t even cross the mind of the one who cannot love without being himself loved. The path is infinitely short but the journey takes forever; after all, thorn is the mark of the path and faith is its light.

Journey ends at the hills of the holy mountain where the holy sword awaits the coming of the brave hearted. It is here, at the crossing between hell and heaven, the place of unbearable fear and trembling, that one must sacrifice the world in order to see the Face.

The world must go if It is to come.