Sinking into the void’s rhythm, where the self dissolves and only silence remains.
“The bad news is you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is, there’s no ground.” ”
― Chögyam Trungpa
How has this been for you shoup?
I see value in everything I hear, see, or read—and this is none of them. I can resonate with every story, but none come close to this.
I fail every time I try to answer any version of this question. Completely.
But that’s the good news: I _can’t_ get it wrong.
It proved to me time and time again that this isn’t fragile. It’s not precious. It doesn’t depend on whether I can describe it or not.
I get fully lost in the dream of life—or sit in silent meditation—and it makes no difference.
There’s no retreat to make, no state to preserve.
This doesn’t need guarding. It never departs from itself.
It was never not this.
Even in the forgetting, it’s whole.
Thank you. I love that.
🙏
Thank you.
“The bad news is you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is, there’s no ground.” ”
― Chögyam Trungpa
How has this been for you shoup?
I see value in everything I hear, see, or read—and this is none of them. I can resonate with every story, but none come close to this.
I fail every time I try to answer any version of this question. Completely.
But that’s the good news: I _can’t_ get it wrong.
It proved to me time and time again that this isn’t fragile. It’s not precious. It doesn’t depend on whether I can describe it or not.
I get fully lost in the dream of life—or sit in silent meditation—and it makes no difference.
There’s no retreat to make, no state to preserve.
This doesn’t need guarding. It never departs from itself.
It was never not this.
Even in the forgetting, it’s whole.
Thank you. I love that.
🙏
Thank you.