The nameless

It is an essential question for us to ask: what is the nature of this reality?
 
Too often we are thinking far too much instead of doing - and this is why we ask.
 
But to mistake reality for what it is not, can be equally as disastrous. Plainly, life is not just material existence nor only the logical, rational analysis of a narrow slice of behaviour extrapolated to every occasion ...
 
We become too fixated just on what we see, touch, feel or think instead of opening up to the whole vista of what is taking place and all of the contents of a single moment.

If we ask intelligently what's there in relation to any single experience, we start to break the linear progression of time and enquire into whatever is alongside or between the procession of images directly before us ...
 
They seem to arise and die into something and that something becomes very fascinating. Life is characterised by loss of the material ...
 
We notice that any one picture fades. We cannot control this and that ephemeral fragility reveals the delicate, floating beauty of the events of this world.

We uncover 3 preliminary things before something else moves in that we cannot describe. 
 
Amidst the transience, we ask about what's always there, that we cannot see which might be all-pervasive.
 
Here we dive into what appears to be more eternal and unchanging: what frames the backdrop of the change we have focused away from.
 
Something seems to survive and be more pervasive, regardless of our daily occurrences. We yearn for that stability and reliability.

Some would say this is identity. The one who registers and perceives images. Others call it God or a deity.
 
But what if even that is not there and any constancy is still an image? This is a very profound glimpse of reality.
 
Then, there is a third layer: an emptying of space and the issuing of void or darkness.
 
In this realm of mystery, there is quietness and silence. 
 
A very different encounter, which we can only call ... the nameless.

---

Tōdai-ji Temple & Isuien Garden, Nara Park, Japan.
 
The deer were everywhere. I sat on the threshold of Nandai-mon (南大門 - Great South Gate) between the inner and outer precinct of Tōdai-ji Temple. From one space to another. Nobody saw me - even in the light of the day. Beforehand, in the garden, a bright wash of colours shimmered over the greenery, an endless dance between nature's movements and an exquisite stillness. I saw nothing but the brightest light which issued deep from beneath this ancient piece of earth:
 
Remember! Change, constancy, emptiness, and  ...
 
Much love x