The Silent Answer
Anything that can be imagined, named, remembered or interpreted as a feeling is a form of life. Forms of life are not the truth; for all forms perish in time, from a single thought to the mightiest civilisation. The intense desire for power (over others but not of oneself) and to experience sensual life compels each individual to create their idea of heaven on earth – a billion prayers that reverberate as a cacophony of human desolation on the periphery of mind. After such feverish activity (which is a necessary stage on the way) there comes a time when every man and woman pauses and asks the most intelligent question: ‘What was it all about? And in that sacred moment is the silent answer. Absolutely nothing.
And yet living must have its virtue so what is life all about? It’s about discovering the purpose of being on earth, which is to communicate the reality of life in the most meaningful and straightforward way. And the two subjects everyone alive is passionately concerned with are love and truth – the two sides of our divine nature. However, unless someone lives what they promulgate as their truth, their words and power to communicate will be ineffective. What is said or written may be entertaining and thought-provoking; but in matters of love and truth that’s hardly the point.
The power of existence is love which, in the absence of movement or force, is the silent answer to the search for completion in the world. There’s no doubt that many people are imbued with great love for their partners, family and fellow man and woman. But the element of personal love prevails as the barrier to the realisation of the impersonal love of the whole and not just the part. Human love competes with the purity of divine love – the original recurring moment that is renewed in the stillness and freshness of now. Human love moves to the inrush of emotional waves such as excitement, expectation or the fear of missing out.
To go beyond the human condition of suffering is to pass through the gradations of past experience which obscure the natural state of freedom as the being behind the form. This is the basis of compassion, for no-one can truly know in terms of self-knowledge what’s not been faced and undergone on the way. Fortunately it’s not necessary to confront the entire spectrum of the human condition – only what’s been apportioned through karma as the individual circumstances and challenges of the living life. This unerring justice ensures everyone is compelled eventually to make amends for any past transgressions, so as to be responsible as a being of the earth.
The flaw in human perception is that it’s a lopsided affair with the primary focus on the material objective world. The inner invisible realm is mostly avoided, which gives a distorted and incomplete picture of the totality of life. The person is the problem, since all persons are inventions of the mind and have no reality outside the world of appearances as the positions they temporarily occupy in society. At death, the mortal person is remembered and mourned while the being, the immortal portion of the individual, goes on into the blackness of the void – the absence of any trace of the world.
Like a bullet propelled by the force of an inner blast, the person is initially projected into the screen of moving images in sense and maintains a steady trajectory for a time. As the drive into matter begins to decline, the person inexorably slows down and, if not too attached to the momentum of the world, becomes aware of something strangely familiar – the silent answer that encapsulates life as the pinnacle of beauty, the consciousness of reality. This spiritual presence imbues all things with the character of truth, an incomparable aspect of the mystery of existence without cessation of eternal purpose.
Nothing is lost in time through the participation of the living experience in the physical world. For everyone’s destiny is to unite with love where it all began; and where it all ends in its unwavering stillness. And then all questions are answered in that point of inconceivable silence.