We are emptiness, a place where everything is able to be abundant.
We are empty. Empty of definition. Empty of separation from the unified whole.
We are empty. Empty of discrimination by the Absolute.
We are empty. Empty of the self with which we identify, empty of the personalization with all of the perceptions we cling to and hold close.
We are emptiness — a vessel unto which anything is possible, a void, which as long as we think is able to be filled, never will.
We are emptiness, like a plot of land that is endless, that has no boundaries or borders and can house infinite homes, and yet we only allow one.
We are empty. Empty of all the distinctions we apply. Empty of all the limits we self-attach. Empty of all the problems we self-identify.
We are emptiness, in such a way as the ocean can never be full. We are emptiness, just as all of the infinite space between all of the countless stars. And yet, it’s there where they sparkle and shine.
We are empty. Empty of all the concepts and concerns we adorn ourselves with, empty of all the lines we draw to tear things into two, in attempt to divide things into this and that.
We are empty. We are empty of the need for war, of the continual need for more, and yet we endlessly try.
We are empty in our search for meaning, as it is already here, and yet it is not. We are empty of all the dualities we impart and hold dear. We are empty of the comfort we are fooled into believing our dualities provide us with. We are empty of the safety we think they imply.
When there is nothing to be attained, nothing can be lost.
Up can never exist independently of down. As long as you keep turning left, you’ll always be able to turn right. In such a way we are no different, we are empty of all such distinctions, no matter how many we try to impart.
We are emptiness, indivisible, unquantifiable, and ungraspable. We are empty of ever being caught by our web of knowledge and logic. Despite how many nets we cast and throw on top, there will always remain holes for the intangible truth to wiggle from and escape.
To know the unknowable is to be empty, to realize the profound is to be full.
Our emptiness is a dichotomy, and our fullness an illusion.
We are an emptiness who can awaken to our infallible nature only when we cease trying to swim with so much effort and allow ourselves to simply let go and and float, as only emptiness can.
We are empty of struggle, and yet we still continue to fight. We are empty of our sense of lack, and yet we find ourselves in a continual state of need.
We are not what we think, and yet we are all of that too.
We are empty. Empty of being bound by our language and words. We are empty of explanation as there’s nothing that needs to ever be said.
We are empty. Empty of entanglement, and yet we act as if we’ve all been ensnared.
We are an empty palette, waiting to taste all the flavours from all of the multiple universes combined, and yet we keep our mouth closed.
We are empty. Empty of understanding as long as we continue to try and learn. We are empty of observation, otherwise we would see all of this for what it already is.
Our emptiness abounds in all ten directions, and in such a way it is directionless. There is no where to go as you are already here. No map will assist you on your journey, as you only need to stop and realize where you already are. There is only a mapless map, a gateless gate, and a pathless path.
If your eyes are closed can you still see? The virtue of ultimate understanding is all that is real, and yet all we believe in is illusions and ghosts.
We are emptiness, just as an infinite circle is whole, with its circumference unmeasurable, with no beginning and no end, with no inside and no outside. Limitless, boundless emptiness — all-encompassing and complete.
We are empty of all the restrictions and limitations we bind ourselves by.
As long as man has been man, we’ve tried to further our own gain and escape our own loss. But there is nothing to have and nothing to lose. We try to eat the air in hopes to be full, and yet find ourselves continually hungry. We try to escape the wind, and yet it’s continually at our back. We desperately continue in vain to shake the tree, and yet it is empty of any fruit. And yet if we were wise, we would realize that the very same tree is itself the very fruit we seek.
We are as deep as a bottomless well, and yet our bucket only skims the top.
Empty of our emptiness, we’ll never know when to stop. If we empty our awareness of all its perceptions, only then will we see all of this.
Our emptiness can never be found, only awakened to. Only by purging our perceptions of duality, will truth allow itself to be seen.