Turn sideways into the light as they say the old ones did and disappear into the originality of it all.Be impatient with easy explanations and teach, that part of the mind that wants to know everything, not to begin questions it cannot answer.
Walk the green road above the bay and the low glinting fields toward the evening sun, let that Atlantic gleam be ahead of you and the gray light of the bay below you, until you catch, down on your left, the break in the wall, for just above in the shadows you’ll find it hidden, a curved arm of rock holding the water close to the mountain, a just-lit surface smoothing a scattering of coins, and in the niche above, notes to the dead and supplications for those who still live.
But for now, you are alone with the transfiguration and ask no healing for your own but look down as if looking through time, as if through a rent veil from the other side of the question you’ve refused to ask.
And you remember now, that clear stream of generosity from which you drank, how as a child your arms could rise and your palms turn out to take the blessing of the world.
and as if I never saw you before….
inquiry for today~ what is distorted? what is cherished today?
It is never the object of attention that is primary. It is always the attending itself. What we pay attention to, while important, is secondary. The various sense doors are all different entry points into awareness itself. The point is not to prefer one door to another, or to stand in the doorway and comment on it. Rather it is to enter the space of awareness and take up residency here, whatever doorway you choose to enter through.
The Buddha called it the themeless concentration of awareness. The mind itself, once cultivated in this way, has the ability instantly to know and recognize what is rising, whatever it is, as it is arising, and instantly discern its true nature.
With the arising, it is known non-conceptually by the mind itself, as if the sky knew the birds and the clouds and the moonlight within it. And in that knowing, with no attachment, no aversion, in that knowing in this very moment of now, the event, the sensation, the memory, the thought bubble int he stream, the feeling of hurt or sadness, or anger, or joy “self-liberates,” as the Tibetans like to say, like touching a soap bubble, but with the mind, or, put differently, dissipates naturally in the knowing, ike “writing on water.”