Conversations For Transformation: Essays Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard

Conversations For Transformation

Essays By Laurence Platt

Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard

And More


A Feast For The Eyes

Mumm Cuvée, Rutherford, California, USA

July 19, 2006



I can't sleep.

Throwing off the sheet I pull on shorts and a tee-shirt and walk down the path through the dunes to the beach. Its dry white sand squeaks slightly under my bare feet, punctuating each step. Specks of phosphorus sparkle in the whitecaps. A full golden moon circled with a purple aura lights the cloudless windless starry sky and bathes the landscape in a clean clear glow.

I amble to the water's edge and stand there with my hands on my hips letting the warm waves lick my toes. On a whim I breathe in as deeply as I can, trying to inhale the entire seashore. The tang of salt laden air opens and cleanses my lungs.

It's one of those nights when being alive is its own reward. It's one of those times when all you have to do to be completely and totally blown away by the beauty of all of creation is to open your eyes and look. Everywhere  you look it's a feast for the eyes.

There are times like these - perhaps too few of them - when the voice-over  isn't constantly jabbing at the way it is, constantly undermining the beauty of what's so, the sacredness, of the way it really is. This way, out of reach of the jabber, is clearly the way it always  is. For the most part, what it takes to see it this way is a crap shoot: it's to get it during these moments when the voice-over is on vacation. Being that the voice-over is a workaholic, that's almost never.

I'm not a yogi. At least I'm not committed to yoga as a way of life even though I acknowledge the depth and the profundity and the joy which comes from its disciplines and practices. A central tenet of the yogic tradition is quieting  the mind, stilling  the mind, even taming  the mind. Doing that, or at least trying  to do that, was a big part of my daily routine before I got to know Werner. I've got a different context for the mind, the voice-over, now: I leave it alone. It's not resisted. It's not changed. It's not quieted nor stilled nor tamed. Rather it's allowed to be what it is, whatever that is ...

What's required is to notice it and to acknowledge it and to leave it alone. In that way, when I leave it alone it leaves me alone. That's how I get to be on the beach with total openness and bliss and the wonderment of all of creation with no voice-over jabbing in. Imagine taking a friend with you to the beach but tying her up and gagging her because you want to quiet her, to still her, to tame her before you muster the freedom to experience your experience. Now imagine taking a friend with you to the beach, acknowledging her, thanking her for being with you, and appreciating her for being your friend. In this way, both of you get to revel in the beach, the feast.

The most remarkable aspect of all of creation for me is this: things are, things can simply be. This makes me happy. The absolute result of being truly aware of what is  is a sense of exquisite beauty. It's a feast for the eyes when you get it this way. It's all  gorgeous, all  celestial, all  divine. There's nothing you have to do to get it this way other than create space for the voice-over to be.

That, and keep your fingers out of the machinery.



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