gobbled by the gap

Last week was a bit strange. I guess I’m slowly learning what many others have discovered before me, which is that the more one reaches out towards this – immense unknowableness – the more it seems to advance. These are crazy words, for there is no reaching and no advancing and never any separation, but how to speak of it?

Adyashanti says “Truth is a sleeping giant, which once aroused and awakened, becomes an unstoppable liberator.”

Unstoppable. That’s what I’m learning. Extend invitations at your peril!

So, what happened last week? Well, I wrote a few fairly innocuous words about minding the gap. I wrote about how the gap between thoughts was succulent silence and the flowering of pure Aware-ing, about it being my version Graceland. Well I must have left an arousing calling card, for the next thing I knew the gap got me good. I was cast like an aged ewe upon the zafu. It wasn’t that I was in bliss-bunny land, or that I was tired. I was simply … hollow. There were no bones in my bodysuit.

Hollow like bamboo. Thoughts bubbled up through the hollowness occasionally like echoes from outer space. There was no intention to remain hollow, or not. But there was a gentle sort of curiosity. The sensation was of floating, buoyantly bodiless – as though held in a gravity-free womb.

It went on without interruption all day, over night, and all the next day. I had been gobbled by the gap.

Don’t be fooled – there’s nothing human here. She-who-writes is a gap-scat in disguise.

– miriam louisa


Image source: Osho Zen Tarot –copyright Ma Deva Padma


mind the gap!

If you’ve ever traveled the London Underground you’ll be au fait with this warning. It’s painted on the platform exactly where the the doors of the train will open. It’s delivered over the intercom at every stop to alert passengers to be mindful when stepping off the train. You hear it so often you stop hearing it.

The reminder to “mind the gap” is one of those inadvertent gifts delivered by mundane daily life and language; it’s meditation’s best friend.

Minding the gap as I step off one train of thought and onto another, ‘I’ floats as spaciousness. The gap between thoughts is the closest thing to God I can think of – but to think at all, I’ve got to be back on the train!

Who’d have thought the London Underground would be such a kind teacher?

The gap is R&R for the brain. The gap is succulent silence and the flowering of pure Aware-ing. The gap is my version of Graceland. It’s where the Beloved lives.

Mind the gap?

You bet.

– miriam louisa


image source – http://www.guardian.co.uk/