The grey of the fall sunset was tinged with reds and orange and a single white cloud lazily wound across the sky like a river. Currents of wind moved through the trees rustling the last leaves and their movement carried a mesmerizing beauty. In all of this there was an overwhelming sense of silent wonder whose beauty filled the body with sacredness. In sacredness, which can never be touched so long as mind is enthralled by concept, dogma, second hand knowledge, there is only the simplicity of mere appearance – an utter suchness not leading to or coming from elsewhere or elsewhen.
In silence the body and mind know the deep of appearance and seeming ‘things’ do not point to duality but rather point out the luminous potency of unborn wisdom awareness in its self-display as uncaused, unceasing magic. Thought can build endless systems, religions, paths but it can not touch truth in its shocking simplicity. Love and compassion cannot be manufactured from concept. Thought cannot manufacture the wholeness of the ‘as is’. Thought has its place in the day to day world of humans but to fulfill the longing of the human depths one must set thought aside and rest within silence.
One cannot come to the absoluteness of reality through any path but at the same time it is possible to move out from the endarkening shadows of confusion through many spiritual paths. It is possible to cut through the stranglehold of confusion and to leap over delusion into immediacy using this released energy as a springboard. In Tantric Buddhism the methods called trekchod and tögal, cutting through and leaping over, accomplish this aim and open the doorway to moving beyond all conceptual contrivance finding oneself in the expanse of ease and freedom. In this expanse even the words 'path', 'enlightenment', 'buddha' do not exist.
The dusk deepened as night fell across trees and fields - mind spread across-as-in-of expanse and held appearance like the hand of a mother tenderly holding her precious child. All of dharma is the holding of appearance in this tender silent love. Two morning doves sit on the dark silhouette of a tree. The straw colored grasses move gently in the breeze, their tops laden with soft strands of seed. A rabbit runs to the right, stops, runs left, and disappears in the shadows. The first stars come out and mind is the extent of mystery unencumbered. There is always, hand in hand, a love of nature and the wisdom of perfect silence. This love renews body, brain, vision in each moment and through the intimacy of mutuality both wisdom-love and appearance are enhanced. This sacredness awaits each person with the embrace of suffering's end.