The first signs of psychic opening are love and joy – a joy that may be

extremely intense and powerful, but without any exaltation and

without object, as calm and deep as the sea.


Psychic joy does not need anything in order to be; it just is; even in a prison it cannot help being, for it is not a feeling but a state, like a river sparkling wherever it flows, whether over mud or rocks, across plains or mountains.

It is a love that is not the opposite of hate,


and it needs nothing to sustain itself; it simply is, burning steadily regardless

of what it encounters, in all it sees and all it touches, simply because

it cannot help loving, for that is its nature.


Nothing is low for it, or high, or pure, or impure; neither its flame nor its joy can be tarnished. Other signs may also reveal its presence: It is light, nothing is a burden to it, as if the whole world were its playground;


it is invulnerable, nothing can touch it, as if it were forever beyond all tragedies, already saved from all accidents; it is a seer, it sees;


it is calm, so calm, a tiny breath in the depths of the being;

and vast, as vast as the eternal sea itself.

Indeed, it is eternal.


And it is free; nothing can entrap it, neither life nor men, nor ideas, nor doctrines, nor countries – it is beyond, forever beyond, and yet innumerably present in the heart of everything, as if it were one with all, for it is God within us.

But these are only signs, an external translation of something that exists in itself, and that we would like to experience for ourselves.


How does one open the doors of the psychic being,

for it is well hidden?


It is primarily hidden by our ideas and feelings, which steal from it and imitate it shamelessly; we have so many ideas about what is high or low, pure or impure, divine or undivine; we are locked in so many sentimental stereotypes about what is lovable or unlovable that the poor psychic being does not have much chance to manifest itself, since the place is already filled with clutter.


The moment it appears, it is instantly snatched up by the vital, which uses it

for its own brilliant flights of exaltation,


its own “divine” and tumultuous emotions, its possessive loves, its calculated generosities or gaudy aesthetics; or it is corralled by the mind, which uses it for its own exclusive ideas, its infallible philanthropic schemes, its straitjacketed moralities – not to mention churches, countless churches, which systematize it in articles of faith and dogma.

Where is the psychic being in all that?


It is there, nonetheless, divine, patient, striving to pierce through each

and every crust and actually making use of everything

that is given to it or imposed upon it.


It “makes do” with what it has, so to speak. Yet that is precisely the problem: when it comes out of hiding, if even for a second, it casts such a glory upon everything it touches that we tend to mistake the circumstances of the revelations for its luminous truth…

Each one builds his own structure around his own particular nugget of experience.


But the psychic being is free, marvelously free of everything!

It needs nothing to exist; it is Freedom incarnate,


and it uses each of our greater or lesser pieces of music, our sublime or less sublime scriptures, simply to bore a hole in our armor in order to emerge into the open.


It lends its power and its love, its joy, its light, and its irresistible open Truth to all our ideas, all our feelings and doctrines, because this is its only chance to manifest openly, its only means of expression.




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