The joyful sober elegance of each moment -"the joyful sober elegance of each moment"- can orientate us concerning an attitude, a general disposition towards any situation. It can be like… the prayerful base that serves as a sponge and shield at the same time: "The joyful sober elegance of each moment."
Sober, so that we are reminded that our state of consciousness has to maintain itself with our own strengths -which, by the way, are given to us. And it also implies a simplicity, humility and sincerity… on the surface.
The elegance… is not studied, certainly; but you can try. In what sense? In the sense of not rushing, pressuring, being the ‘inquisitor’ of the environment, in order to obtain from it everything possible and more.
Let the autumn leaf wander until it begins to tread its path on earth.
When spring arrives, don't forget to smile to the sprouting of every plant, every smile that appears… in seeing resurrect what seemed outdated and terminal.
To maintain oneself elegant is a complaisant adaptation; in such a form and manner that is not a motive of discussion, or stress, or tension, or violence. There is no reason for the chafing, and each can follow its… snaking wandering.
A pilgrim of the wind… This is the elegant.
"A pilgrim of the wind. This is the elegant".
The joybecomes increasingly scarce.
Dawn, just when the being usually wakes up, should be a motive of eccentric joy. But usually it is a time of “precipitating” darkness.
You've just been given a day, a sunrise, a new opportunity, and you grumble, you look for a substitute so as to search for something of disinhibition that permits you to…: coffee, chocolate, tea…
What a shame! Unable to smile by yourself, to rejoice because the surprises await you. It is clear that: If your senses are oblong and obtuse, there is no consciousness of what is happening. Nor a memory nor…
“Ah, but…!". "Ah, but… I didn’t notice, I have not heard, no…".
Of course. When one begins with the primitive as the reason for joy, and it is not staged, it is not put in evidence, what comes after -which is going to be more complex, more complicated or more difficult to understand-, well, surely… is not going to give many motives for joy.
So, concerned and worried… and concerned -if not, concerned; or, perhaps, concerned; or perhaps concerned; or inevitably concerned- about… with so much concern, the laughing muscles are lazy: lazy, of laziness. Or… or…
- Or what?
- Or they smile for an obligation. But that doesn't mean it's of joy.
Always, the question that arises in those moments is:
- And why do I have to be cheerful, if everything is so bad?
- So bad? Who is so bad? You…? Or everything? Everything, except you. We do not know what amount that will be. Everyone, except you, equal to…? To what?
Of course, when one says "everything is so bad", the one who usually says it, constantly, permanently, puts himself as an observer, and it seems that he is from another planet, right?, where the virtue reigns as streams of gold.
No! Let’s see. "Everything is so bad", means that you are also bad. And then I could say: "Everything is wrong. Of course, me included in … that cocoon".
To put a little bit of beauty, right? So, if at any time they call you "cocoons", well… don't get angry!
The usual conclusion is that you cannot be 'ha-ppy’.
One has to be busy, worried… or worried and busy. Motives? Buah! All that you want!
- But, -once again the question- is there any reason to be cheerful?
- Yes. You will see. There is a reason. One!
- One…? What do I do with one?
- But wait to know what is the one! see, you quickly chop off the head!
- I have many reasons to be concerned about, busy, obsessed, sad, blue, angry and… almost dead and buried!
- What a horror! All that? So many motives you have?
Of course. We have to… we have to make an effort. With this initial attitude of busy, worried, obsessed, to enter into another consideration is not easy. But, you’ll see. You say that you have a motive. Yes. oui. Shi.
Yes. A motive. The motive is thatyou can take on that idea. You can express that idea. You can have the consciousnessthat everything is busy, everything is wrong, everything is terrible. The fact is to become aware of the fact that you -so important!- have an opinion; you, who have the biggest problem in the world, are concerned, busy, obsessed, as if the others had not lived this, felt it… or as if what happens to you had never happened!
But let us return to the explanation, because it may not have been left clear:
The fact of waking up "with consciousness of", although in a sleepy way… and terrified because the day arrives, when it’s possible to get up in the afternoon…
"That would be the most physiological time, in theory"–like this is thought at this moment-.
The fact that this you feel and you live, that is… wow! In the year of the dog, is "wow".
- Well… you have consciousness! That is to say, you have the possibility to notice and to speak out and…! Wow! What a joy!, no?
- Well, that is normal.
-"Normal"? How did you manage that!?
- How did you manage to become aware of the fact that you are a cocoon? How was it achieved? How has it come to this…? How have you managed to chastise yourself, beat yourself, crush yourself and destroy yourself, in the name of… whatever it is? How have you achieved it? To be aware of that. How have you managed to say that you exist and that… that you are there, and that you are called Gervasolence?
- Gervasolence? Precisely Gervasolence?
- Well! "Indolence", if you prefer.
- "Indolence". That sounds like pain, doesn't it?
- Yes… Well… Indolent? Yes.
- It was "Indolence".
What… what motive!, right? What a motive to say… “Phew! Unbelievable!”.
The fact that I can feel the king of the world. The only one who has reason. The only one who sees things clearly. Sees the mistake of others. To be able to condemn everyone. To be able to feel perfect… or pluperfect! Being able to know the innate goodness of oneself, compared with the sea, the sea is left small. Or, to feel like the most unclean rat of the eternities, that wanders as a shattered with haemorrhage, chafing the abandoned cubicles of the old stations of New York which are no longer in use and that are packed with homelessor any other human ‘scum’.
- How, how barbaric! How tough is that!, right?
- Choose. Which do you prefer?
Or maybe you prefer to not go to extremes, and to stay in a position of intermediate hamburger? Like, red meat, that it is not known whether it is really red or not; or if it has been painted red. It is not certain what type of meat it is: Beef or… chicken! -that is something different-… or of what?
Do you prefer the lukewarm burger…? Or that lukewarm coffee, with Italian espresso machine flavour, which you drink in disgust, with sips… and the whiskers get stained with a strange brown cream? Buaj!
The truth is that, seen like that, life is terrible. It is better to be in the subway, on the underground of the depths, the metro. Or!... to feel king or queen.
With these three consciences, of course, it is best to return to bed and try to sleep, to see if there is more luck in the next awakening.
Come to think of it, poor God! What he must suffer looking at everybody!... He says:
"Oyyy! And this idiot…? With what I gave him, what…! And this one, look at her, how disgusting!, she doesn’t even wash… “Doesn’t even care for the lice".
It must be very sad to be God -from the human point of view, of course-. More than sad, disappointing, dark; even… he could unleash the wrath!, and say:
"I can't stand them anymore more –“them” are us-. The rest scrupulously maintain their role. Even learning new skills, such as eating plastic in the ocean. But… them? I, that made them of authentic mud without polluting! And, I, modulated them, there, in "the workshop of Eden", and then I gave them my warm breath…!
I began to suspect, when the first one I made started to complain, and that no, no, no… I don't like this, I don't like the other… so I had to make a copy of the same, but enhanced, so as for him to say: "Oh, yes! I like that!".
It was born fickle. It was born whimsical, the child!
I suspected then -said God- that something was wrong.
Then I told them: "You can be ‘fed up’ of what you want, but not of this plant, because it is poisonous, you understand? That is, understand: it is poisonous." And of course, -as was suspected that something was wrong-: Well… the man tempted God.
Tempted him. How risky!, right?
Poor God! And this is the God that we, as humanity created, which is what it is -no, "he that is"; what is-. So how will be, let’s say, "the other".
So, can there be another… another space of consciousness, which is not the volatile extremism of the underground, or the sublime magnificence of Louis XIV, or the copious hamburger or produce-sleep, produce-sleep, produce… sleep and shut up, sleep and shut up, sleep and shut up? Can there be anything different than that?
Ah, yes! The joy: that state of good hope; as if the entire world was pregnant.
"It's embarrassing this situation"-they usually say-.
- As being busy.
- But if you have already said!: You're busy, worried, obsessed, martyred, because only to you happens those things. Only you! "Only youuuuu...". Only you!
You have to be stupid!, right? Yes, but it shows the infinity of the universe: the human stupidity -is infinite-.
To think that it only happens to you. And you're busy, worried, and you affect everything.
But let's see, let’s see! You have not made any progress! what happens to you, has happened in 16,527 generations! That has happened to approximately 280,000 million human beings.
- So many?
- Well, more or less.
- And what have they done?
- The same thing as you: the cocoon. Think that you're… "Only youuuuu"…
So bad is the joy?...
But, as well as "one word is enough to heal", a unique concept, one: to know that I can take census of myself, feel myself, realize…, that wakes me up to joy.
Because, while I slept, I felt nothing. I didn't know if I existed. But in awakening, although it seems to be agonizing, it is dazzling.
Sobriety… Elegance… Joy…
The Meaning of Prayer invites us to gestate ourselves in the sober elegance of the joy, joy, joy… But this is not about emitting laughter, nor to be present with a hypocritical smile. But with the joy of:
"You see! They have loved you enough tonight, so as to wake you up. Others did not fare so well and will not be awakened. They will awaken to a different reality. If they maintain you it is for something. Accomplish!...
And to the extent that you accomplish, you'll be filling with Universes, you'll be filling with satisfactions; you'll… you'll know how to be an interpreter of reality, elegant enough to not confront oneself, so as to not confront. And you'll have enough humility and detachment for… a sobrietythat does not need alcohol or anyother stimulant, because it does not admit dependence: it is only supported with Love."