I miss writing.
Trying to find that space in myself where life makes sense. Where there is the possibility of clarity. This weekend on the Way of the Bodhisattva closing retreat, I've had some insights that I know are true roots.
I've finally understood the dynamics of emptiness.
When something and its nonexistence
Both are absent from before the mind
No other option does the latter have.
It comes to perfect rest from concepts free
It is said that when Shantideva recited these lines, he floated up and disappeared.
I have no plans to disappear, but in a certain way I did this weekend. My intuitive belief in the solidity of myself is substantially less intuitive after two days of "sense of self" meditation. With a less solid sense of self it's easier to let go of suffering.
But it's also easier to develop buddah nature, compassion, joy, equanimity. The immeasurables.
Even if the inner refuge is an illusion, it is more stable floating on emptiness.
