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Kindle Notes & Highlights
In deep sleep, everything perceivable and conceivable vanishes, as does the one who cares about all of this. Every night in deep sleep, the caretaker, the controller, the author, the observer, the scorekeeper, the seeker, the judge, the critic, the decider, the phantom helmsman is gone.
Death is the great liberator thinly disguised as our worst fear.
Once we name this omnipresent ground of being, there is always the danger of reifying it and creating a false duality in the mind between awareness and content, emptiness and form, subject and object, screen and movie. But as they say in Buddhism, form is emptiness, and emptiness is form. Not two. The division is purely conceptual, a helpful map to use for a moment on the pathless path, but then equally important to discard. Subject and object are one seamless whole.
One day, as my father told me years ago, the sun will explode and this solar system will be no more. The show will be over. Whether this happens billions of years from now, in the next moment, or at the moment of death, everything perceivable and conceivable will be erased, as it is every night in deep sleep. In reality, all of it is a momentary appearance, fleeting and dreamlike.
Eventually, I encountered radical nondualists like Tony Parsons, Leo Hartong, Sailor Bob, Nathan Gill, Chuck Hillig, Karl Renz and Darryl Bailey. From radical nonduality, you get nothing.
No wave can ever go off in a direction other than the one in which the whole ocean is moving.
There is a natural impulse to pursue what attracts us, to heal what is broken, to clarify what is obscure, to explore new territory, to discover and develop and extend our capacities and capabilities, to envision different possibilities, to help others, to bring forth what is within us.
