Some Observations—Sept. 2

Sept. 2.

Some observations.

There's a tendency to want things to be magical. This is a poisonous attitude; it's a demand in me for the world and its nature to exceed the laws that govern it. I want the system to be rigged so that it produces things that favor me in one way or another. I don’t see that I can’t be a favorite; that everything is under law. In fact I want everything to be under law except me. I want to be different and have exceptions made for me so that I can do as I please and still get "good" results — that is, the results I want, not the results that are needed for others, for the planet, for life itself.

Let’s face it, sometimes the results required under law have nothing to do with what I want and in fact stand directly opposed to it. Do I ever think about this? Do I understand that I’m part of something greater and have a role to play that may have nothing to do with the imagination and desire that I paint my world with?

So this is one thing I'm pondering this morning.

Another thing. About the conditions. The conditions are exactly as they are. When things are easy, it’s easy to work, it’s easy to love people and to think that life is filled with joy. I’m reminded of Gurdjieff’s comment, in the notes from Paris groups in 1944, where he says, “bad things are easy.” 

Generally speaking, much more is available to work with when things are going badly and conditions are difficult. Of course I don’t want that. I want everything to be arranged so that I sit on a soft cushion and feel and think good things and angelic forces bathe me in the soothing balm of their silence. It’s another way of believing I’m making “progress” and that all will be well instead of struggling with my hypocrisy and inattention. 

I can’t struggle with hypocrisy and inattention if they aren’t manifesting.

The third thing. Life begins itself centering around selfishness. Being has to be dragged away from selfishness, under most ordinary conditions, kicking and screaming. We need to come to a point where Being walks away from selfishness consciously and willingly. It can only do that if it is solid, founded on sensation, awakened in an objective intelligence that understands its position relative to law in an organic way. 

This is adult Being. I see that I usually don’t want adult Being; I want baby being, which just wants to eat delicious food and have its own way with everything. 

Everyone fusses over baby being because it’s so cute and makes goo-goo sounds. I forget that it shits itself and can’t clean its own diapers, and is dependent on everyone around it for its very survival. Being needs to grow up; and it even needs a good spanking from time to time.

I remember when I was an artist and did large oil paintings. There was a way to do this safely. But I always knew that the real paintings began when nothing was safe, and I was literally trembling like a leaf as I tried to approach a canvas and do work on it. 

This is a very different kind of painting than, for example, Northern Renaissance painting, which is actually an extremely refined kind of craft. I'm talking about the painting of terror and the unknown, where the demand of the artist is to channel a force they do not understand into a medium that they have refused to impose predictions and conditions on, instead submitting to its laws. 

In moments of painting like that, one has to acknowledge in an instant that one is inadequate to every law, that one doesn’t know. It is willingness to stand on the edge of the unknown and make a record of it not just on the canvas, but within one’s own being. 

One already knows the mark that is made, the record that is kept, will not meet the moment well enough; that it will be insufficient, that it will be flawed, that it won’t be good. 

This is something like the way I am in life every day. If I'm not willing to suffer the humility of meeting this canvas of life, and putting a record on it, I become even more of a nothing than I am when I do so.

At the same time, I can’t blame myself for being nothing. That’s just the way it is. Part of my spiritual duty is to discharge the responsibility of being mostly nothing. Being nothing can even be helpful. 

I’m reminded of 2 Corinthians 12:

It is doubtless not profitable for me to boast. I will come to visions and revelations of the Lord. I knew a man in Christ fourteen years ago, (whether in the body, I cannot tell; or whether out of the body, I cannot tell: God knows;) such an one caught up to the third heaven. And I knew such a man, (whether in the body, or out of the body, I cannot tell: God knows;) how that he was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter. Of such an one will I glory: yet of myself I will not glory, but in mine infirmities. For though I would desire to glory, I shall not be a fool; for I will say the truth: but now I forbear, lest any man should think of me above that which he seeth me to be, or that he heareth of me.

And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure. For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.

with warm regards,

Lee

Lee van Laer is a Senior Editor at Parabola magazine.