"THERE DO EXIST ENQUIRING MINDS, which long for the truth of the heart, seek it, strive to solve the problems set by life, try to penetrate to the essence of things and phenomena and to penetrate into themselves. If a man reasons and thinks soundly, no matter which path he follows in solving these problems, he must inevitably arrive back at himself, and begin with the solution of the problem of what he is himself and what his place is in the world around him. For without this knowledge, he will have no focal point in his search. Socrates’ words, “Know thyself” remain for all those who seek true knowledge and being."

VIEWS FROM THE REAL WORLD, BY by G.I. Gurdjieff, p 43

09 March 2010

The Empty Space


I'm  currently re- reading "The Empty Space, A Book About the Theater: Deadly, Holy, Rough, Immediate" by Peter Brook. I found it again while unpacking some old books I brought back to Florida from my old storage space in New York recently .  Brook's thoughts suit me now during this long hiatus, in this chilly rain.  My favorite line in the book is at the beginning of Chapter One: Deadly in which Brook talks about what he calls "Deadly" theater. It reminds me of how things are, really. He says:

"I can take any empty space and call it a bare stage. A man walks across this empty space whilst someone else is watching him, and this is all that is needed for an act of theater to be engaged."

This is how we are, as Shakespear noticed, "All actors on a stage." All of us, acting on the stage of life - somnambulating. Some who know this also know the audience is God, the All, The Power, The Force. Here we are, we are born into this place. We come with (some say) a purpose, to right wrongs from past lives, to be good, to do right. Unfortunately we forget that soon after birth and are left feeling our way about the dark to find and reach the goal or goals. As I read Mr. Brook's little book, his words shine light in empty spaces in me. Shorn of all desire to be anything other than what I Am now, in this moment, and this moment, his intelligent words stream into this old house tickling ancient  ghosts who chortle at what they once were, as they glimpse their old carcasses in the internal mirror. No longer in deep mourning and regret and filled with all their clutter and clatter, it is very quiet in here, in this empty space. I look forward to the rest of the book, the "Holy, Rough, and Immediate", and wonder what news they will bring. So far this meal, being eaten again in a different time, eons away from where I was when I first read the book,  is so rich I must take it in small bites. Care filled Patience is required lest I forget My Self.

Remember
Be Peace
BE

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