What we have are desires and fears, which generate their attendant objects: thoughts, concepts, ideation, emotion, a great buzzing cloud cutting us off from reality.
I pass through layers of atmosphere enveloped in space. From our launch pad seated in meditation, earnest practice of yoga will in a sense blast us off up through stratospheres ever more devoid until we breach the true void of outer space. Time then to push the self-destruct button, the rocket blows, and there you still are, a point of consciousness without object, silent, still, boundless, and now you realize that gross matter is not the end all and be all of existence, but in fact enshrouds you.
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