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