Search In You

There is one last space where adventure still shivers. Where multiple risks are always unexpected. There, no road, no map, no GPS, no milestones, no trace. There, you hold your life in your hands. You look at your death in the eyes. What is this place? Seek in you.

You are the unknown space where the chasms sink, learn the speleology of the soul, roam the vertiginous overhangs of the intimate being, rub shoulders with your unfathomable depth. Do you know the abyss at the bottom of which shines the soft light of Temperance? If you know him, do you really live there? In your labyrinthine jungle, think of the wonders that await you. Terrors are lurking too, emerging from the terrifying undergrowth of your childhood memory. That this does not deter you. Advance in you. Scream the abysses of the inside. Explore the black forests and the sunny lanes. Jump the waterfalls, cross the seas, wander in your inner desert.

The show is striking. An unexplored extent that will remain if you do not do the job. A fertile plain to cultivate. An intact landscape stretching as far as the eye can see on the mountains of your heart. Virgin powder where you’ll be able to leave your mark, so that finally there is one. Yours. No other.

There are a thousand ways to search within you. Get into the habit of loneliness and silence. All noise distracts you, keeping you on the surface of yourself. To accumulate around you the sources of sound and images is the surest way to never enter you. Walk, not in the city, but in nature. Walk, and do not run.

When you go on a walk, take your time. No need to wear a jogger outfit, dress up normally. In running and sneakers. Also lose the habit of wearing a uniform. You have the same clothes as too many people. There is no point in having Scandinavian walking poles, free to the Vikings to compensate for their alcoholism with guardians, but sober people do not need them to stand up.

The quiet walk is also a pedometer. Still lose the habit of measuring everything, counting everything, counting everything. The number and the name enclose you in a social box where you have nothing to do. The peaceful walk, the stroll, the ride in the wind goes without saying anything: “Hey! You have seen ? I’m walking !” Still lose the habit of selfies. Still photographing is an inflation of the ego that systematically strikes ordinary people without personality or spine.

Avasively in their head and in their body, they play sports just like any other albumin. A biological reflex on which they have neither hold nor opinion. These are not serious candidates for the great game of Searchinyou. I have nothing against sport, I reject him in the hegemony he took on the body. Playing sports is the ultimate proof that one takes care of one’s body, can one hear behind the clichés of the Parisian pub.

But no, it’s the opposite. Playing sports damages the body. Triggering adrenaline rushes with effort is as bad as shooting at the hero. We play sports for free shoot, so for the mental and psychic well-being. Where is the interest of the body in there? I am not talking about the stimulants and other hard drugs that top athletes take.

The sporting ideal is not mine. The overtaking I am pursuing is not played out physically. Because the physical will pass, not me. It is not played out either mentally or intellectually. Because the intellectual will pass, not me. It is not played either on the artistic level, I do not have this ego-there, having had the chance to know and to like many true artists.

Searchinyou is played alone. Do not compare your results with those of another, compare your progress today with those of yesterday. We all have a way in this world, few of us have the same. Your faults are not everyone’s. Your qualities are the same. Both form a personalized bouquet, your bouquet. With your qualities and your faults, you will fight, open your way in you, until the bestowal. The encounter between your little ego every day and your higher self. Go your way, stay honest, do not listen to anyone’s advice, not even mine.

“Do not listen to anyone’s advice, except to the wind that passes and tells you the story of the world” (Claude Debussy)

One day will come, you will have cut off your head, the voices that speak in you will be silent, a great curly silence will be descended in your skull and in your body. That day will be the first day of your new life. You may need time to understand it. I did not realize what was happening to me when it came. It took me time, how much? I do not know. One day I said to myself, “ouaaah! my head is empty !! But it was probably a good time that was the case.

Then you can stand on the wave. Then you will be totally incarnate. Full. As on the day of your death. But life goes on. It’s not quite on the same level, but it’s still going.

Being yourself, then, becomes easy. There is nothing to look for, nothing to wait, everything is there at your fingertips, all you have to do is serve yourself. The branches lean towards you so that your hand can pick the fruits without effort. The birds bring your pittance. From the depths of heaven, God smiles on you. It does not matter whether he exists or not, as long as he smiles.