The Magician

Dear unknown friend, 

I hope this letter finds you well, relaxed and happy to be who you are...

This morning, on my way to the coffee shop I noticed that I was walking a little bit too quickly for a Saturday.  

 It occurred to me that I have made my life a race, which I want to win, because the prize is something I value and desire a lot, which is:  a life without racing. 

 It's crazy isn't it?  Normally, if the end of the race is the prize, I should be able to win straight away, just by stopping right now. Why am I racing? Do I need more love? 

I am loved and I can feel it, when I see my parents, my siblings, my friends...
I am quite happy to be myself, in spite of the dark bits I haven't dissolve yet;  life loves me, the Great Spirit makes me grow like a desired plant in a corner of the earth...  
Why am I still racing then? 

 Before it was different. I felt so bad in my own skin, I had so much to prove to myself before I could allow a little bit of self esteem and self love in, and become more able to receive love from others in the process... I had to race like a fish in heated water. 

 But now... why do I carry on ? I must be addicted..

 Of course, I still have a few important goals and desires, but I have evolved a long way and it's not efficient to be impatient and race race race...

By the way, I imagine the eyebrows of a few among those who know (and love) me going up at the idea of my life being a race...  Inner life and mental pursuits can be a race as well... 
 

  I am addicted to living in a state of inner agitation. 

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 When I was reading these letters to an unknown friend I talked about (Meditations on the Tarot), I loved especially the interpretation of the first Arcane, Le Bateleur, in English The Magician. 


 He is perfectly focused. He is juggling with symbols without even looking at what he's doing. He doesn't need to. His mind has gone clear and silent. The oscillations of his mental substance have stopped. 


 Being able to shut up, verbally and mentally, is the first condition, and maybe the summit of the art. My unknown friend asked me, in his first letter: "Did you ever drink silence?"  

 I have never drunk silence as beautifully as he described it to me, but I have become much more silent than I used to be... 

 There are two ways to train becoming silent, my friend. There are probably more than two but let me explain with two...

 One way is to try to stay mentally silent for as long as possible, like you were holding your breath. In this way, each time we practice, we end up failing. Moreover, it's quite difficult, if not impossible at all, to hold on our train of thoughts. How could we stay there without thinking to anything, without even thinking that we are practicing an exercise which consists of not thinking? Because if we don't even think that we are doing an exercise consisting of not thinking, how can we know what we are doing?

...Try to stop a train of thoughts like that. As soon as you don't think that you shouldn't think, you start thinking to something else without noticing... 

 It's called the monkey mind. It's a funny trickster.

 The other way to train is to observe and notice the moments of silence which do happen at times between two thoughts... 

 One day I was on my way back home. I drove my car up a little mountain road. The sun was setting. Suddenly I noticed the sky. It had become breathtakingly beautiful. I didn't know I was still able to be so impressed just by the sky, but on that day, I was shocked by the beauty. I went: "Ahhh!" 

 For a few seconds, there were no thoughts in my mind. There was only the sky, the flamboyant red clouds, the mountains...
 Even when there is no amazing sunset over loved mountains to offer us an unexpected moment of silence, there are silent blips between our thoughts. We can observe and cherish them like precious gifts. Then they become familiar and they grow....

 One day, we become apt at going "Ahh" in front of a grey wall, because everything, absolutely everything is as beautiful as the most beautiful sky, all the time. 
 We just don't notice. 
  

 

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