The Philosophy of Love

The Philosophy of Love

Everyday I awake a philosopher. I look at the state of the world and the ages. Today I awoke with the philosophy of Love.

Love

Love for the sea

Love for music

Love for beauty

Love for Mother

Divine Love

I feel great pity for these poor men, who are what, who love what ?

This world was created for love

And it is by love we live.

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It is the first instinct of life.

And then... what ?

The plant loves the sun, seeks the sun

The small green alga coils round the rock to drink in life

And the whole of life touches and feels around to take its prey lovingly or (so it seems) cruelly because it is hungry for love, to feed on that sunny throbbing life, or it digs through the earth to find its light and its breath of love. And it searches and searches everywhere to find... That which has neither name nor philosophy but which breathes in the wind, beats in the wind, and what beats ? Millions of beings and creatures throughout millennia are stubbornly searching for the same nameless Thing voraciously, in diverse ways. We can cover it with logic or geology, but underneath there is something that is growing—growing and it is the one same Thing. And it continues throughout the ages as if That had found neither its age nor its goal, nor its hunger nor its thirst, nor that something which gave it birth.

Then all manner of provisional but never happy ineptitudes have been put on it, and

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with provisional human creatures the peak has come more cruelly, celestially, religiously or infernally and so discontentedly that the Earth itself would like to annihilate its goal and what beats beneath it, it would like to take and dominate or attack what it cannot love. It is an upside down love. Everything and everyone would like to destroy all.

And yet, at the centre, there is something that beats.

And it will continue to beat beneath other skies until we find what fills.

Why not right here and now ?

For what loves is joy that loves joy.

Music that loves its note.

The great sea that loves its wave.

The Mother of worlds who loves her children and wants their joy.

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So this morning, I awoke from a blissful Nothingness, and in a fraction of a second I saw this clown trying to find his web, to retie the threads of "life", those millions of memories that make up a slimy ball of "me", a silken and painstaking spider's web for catching some similar insect. And in that fraction of an empty second, I imposed a stupendous silence like an elephant's foot wanting to crush those millions of kindred trivialities, like the Nothingness itself that cries No to this life. And then, suddenly, in this Nothingness, I heard the cry of a million and a trillion cells in this dazed body:

You ARE There

You ARE There

You ARE There...

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And it repeated this same cry as if it were the very Life of life, its pulse, its very Breath since millions of years and disappeared species. You ARE THERE... like a first creature bowing down before its first sunrise without the vocabulary to cry out its adoration and its thirst for what is there, its air of all times, its respiration.

Then, in the centre of these trillions of present cells, there was something that re-cognized and was born to its first sun, its note of the great sea of music forever sung. Its first enchantment under the stars which enchanted millions of disappeared and reappeared species to find this same Love.

But our provisional species in all this, what does it love?

Shall we always be these incurable clowns.

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But the thirst remains, and it is the Future's promise.

We have tried to quench so many thirsts since the advent of this thinking species, "I think therefore I am" and millions of thoughts have risen to catch this I that is there, and as many unfulfilled shadows have wanted to catch the stars and the disappeared continents but have always come back on their same conquering steps... of Nothing. So they invented heavens over there and Popes and various Allahs to dominate and burn alive or cut throats and convert these same creatures to their only God the savior who only saves his own bank account, and nothing of this old two legged "I" is saved, who walks however on the same something that is there since the first

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wink of the same sun—since the same music of an infinite sea that loves its wave and rolls and rolls to repeat its joy. Perhaps a child could better understand without his already hardened sticky ball that has already swallowed different sacred or not so sacred tiny creatures, to swallow still more and more until the day when a stupendous silence seizes hold of him and in that sudden Nothingness something cries out.

And what cries out? what is this forgotten note that suddenly resounds from unknown and known ages as if it were the only Music that fills, the whole of infinity contained in a lost second. So he runs and runs to find what is here and loses himself in the thinking jungle of a strange world, and he is a Stranger everywhere except in this

YOU ARE THERE

that bursts forth suddenly through all the pores of his skin crushed by nothingness.

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In the name of love we have put on so many detestable religious beliefs, or stuck on a sexual act prohibited by anchorites who hide forbidden pleasures underneath it, and the pure animal like the less pure man that followed, finds there an intense joy or an irresistible impulse to reproduce in his offspring this same instinct of joy in a world that was made for infinite love and joy, unfortunately for microscopic and more often than not deadly purposes, and the offspring have reproduced too much or deviated this something that wanted to love and love still more to find itself innumerably in all. Love wanted to love itself everywhere. And our provisional deliquescent species is realizing that it has missed its Goal and the goal of the Ages. Thus this same Love

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which not having found what it is looking for, becomes self-destructive to unearth further on, more vastly its first Smile and its first creative Note fossilized in a small thinking me, until the day when a first child, annihilated by the futility of its millions of worthless memories ' that repeat themselves mechanically in a mortal world, starts to cry out through all the pores of an old present cell that remembers something else and its first respiration in the world

You are there

And it is like a first birth to the world—at last he finds himself!

You are there

You are there, immediately there, without mechanics around, without paradise over there or in centuries to come, it is all there and all filled without a hole anywhere, it is the ocean all pierced in a single drop, it is a second of all Times, the Music of the world in a single Note.

Then all that remains is to create anew this wherefore the World has blossomed under so many stars.

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So we scuttle this fossilized little I and land in another world.

And how are we going to start again from a single cell without going through geological ages ?

At the beginning of the last century, which was the last millennium, at the time of the First World War (1914-18) and the ensuing revolutions that dismantled Central Europe, Sri Aurobindo, immense Sri Aurobindo looked at the condition of the world and that of the so-called human species, and wrote in The Life Divine:

"Because the burden which is being laid on mankind is too great for the present littleness of human personality and its petty mind and small life-instincts, because it cannot operate the needed change, because it is using this new apparatus and organisation to serve the old infraspiritual and infrarational life-self of humanity, the destiny of the race seems to

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be heading dangerously, as if impatiently and in spite of itself, under the drive of the vital ego seized by colossal forces which are on the same scale as the huge mechanical organisation of life and scientific knowledge which it has evolved, a scale too large for its reason and will to handle, into a prolonged confusion and perilous crisis and darkness of violent shifting incertitude. Even if this turns out to be a passing phase or appearance and a tolerable structural accommodation is found which will enable mankind to proceed less catastrophically on its uncertain journey, this can only be a respite. For the problem is fundamental and in putting it evolutionary Nature in man is confronting herself with a critical choice which must one day be solved in the true sense if the race is to arrive or even to survive."

No, it is not a question here of "surviving" the old human life endlessly repeated for some millions of years, but of creating anew or recreating the why this earth has blossomed under so many stars and disappeared species because they have not found their Goal of love

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and joy, which a first annihilated child discovers wondrously when he cries out from all the cells of his old encrusted body: YOU ARE THERE !

And in this same Life Divine Sri Aurobindo made it still more clear:

"Man as he is cannot be the last term of that evolution: he is too imperfect an expression of the Spirit... If, then, man is incapable of exceeding mentality, he must be surpassed and Supermind and superman must manifest and take the lead of the creation."

Now, the "Supramental" is not a super-mind. The Supramental is what is at the very heart of a cell.

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It was in 1914 that Mother met Sri Aurobindo for the first time at Pondicherry where he had taken refuge upon his release from the English prison where he was waiting to be hanged.

It was in 1946 that this young anthropoid met Mother upon his release from the concentration camps, athirst and rebellious, wanting to do something with this old body without going off into old celestial Heavens which save nothing. And it was to him that Mother said in 1963, twenty years after his arrest by the Gestapo when he was grumbling against this human and terrestrial condition:

"Well, become conscious of your cells and you will see that there are terrestrial consequences."

I opened my eyes wide.

One cell, one point in this terrestrial matter

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could have an action on this rather disgusting and increasingly deceptive whole... we have been hideously deceived by our Religions but even more firmly and more rationally crusted over by our Science which at least had one thing to its credit in that it searched for something and wanted to find the key to this terrestrial Enigma. Now, they have blinded us even more so by imprisoning the marvellous Enigma in a small genetic formula within everyone's reach— there is no more a YOU ARE THERE ! cried out by all the pores of an old anthropoid, but a Whole locked up in a scientific fortress and finally caught in a trap without a hope of being able to change this vile human magma which is destroying itself because it has not found anything of the Goal of the Ages and all these age-old pains that went groping along on two legs.

And it is in fact a Whole... miraculous, walking on two legs without knowing what runs in its two legs, and how many species have disappeared and returned to find the same beginning of a very tiny cell.

And it was Mother once again who said to

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this young humanoid, worn out by so much useless running through his own virgin forest like at the beginning of that first terrestrial Matter:

"A certitude deep down in Matter
That the solution is THERE.
You have to go to the very depths
In search of this marvelous
bursting forth of the Vibration of Love."

The very depths, is right at the beginning of the worlds. The bursting forth of the Vibration of Love

In a tiny cell That is what made the world

For the joy of loving

And that is what can make it again in a Divine twinkling of an eye or in the smile of a tiny loving cell.

"It is the hour of the unexpected"

said Sri Aurobindo.

6th April 2002

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I am not philosophizing.
I am searching for the physical conditions that will help us go out of Death.
- S.