Whatever I can name, I can let go of.
When I let go of names, I make listening sacred.
When I let go of names, every breath, every particle of dust gets interesting. Life begins.
Do you want a name for it? Laotzu called it Tao, but he warned that it really has no name. Jesus called it the Kingdom of God, but he said, "It is not over here or over there: it is within
you." Buddha called it Nirvana,
but he refused to say anything about it. He wouldn't even say whether it
was existent or non-existent!
When I hear these religious terms, I mythologize them, imagining them as places, objects of perception, or states of existence. I assume that these words describe some content of experience. But if Truth were the content of my experience, it would just be more stuff that I could let go of. It would just be another name.
Truth has no content or name. Happiness is not an experience. God is not an object of attention. What we're talking about here is precisely what remains when all is abandoned, including 'me.'
So what remains?
Look into the motionless explosion of a rose. Look deep into its atoms. Gaze all the way down through its sparkling architecture of pure light, into photons bursting from unfathomable night, where the most infinitesimal particle contains the information of all the stars.
Fall into holy loss, vibrant annihilation. Fall into the luminous thunder of divine silence.
This is the rose of emptiness.
When I hear these religious terms, I mythologize them, imagining them as places, objects of perception, or states of existence. I assume that these words describe some content of experience. But if Truth were the content of my experience, it would just be more stuff that I could let go of. It would just be another name.
Truth has no content or name. Happiness is not an experience. God is not an object of attention. What we're talking about here is precisely what remains when all is abandoned, including 'me.'
So what remains?
Look into the motionless explosion of a rose. Look deep into its atoms. Gaze all the way down through its sparkling architecture of pure light, into photons bursting from unfathomable night, where the most infinitesimal particle contains the information of all the stars.
Fall into holy loss, vibrant annihilation. Fall into the luminous thunder of divine silence.
This is the rose of emptiness.
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