Upon realization a koan becomes a syllogism, a natural law in the new order. Realization is like one of those cartoon characters who keeps frantically running long after he has gone off the cliff. This is the mind scrambling to make sense of the new order, and then--oops!--falling like a stone to its own destruction. Realization means extinction of the old, now useless identification of self with body-mind. The tail of the tadpole falls off and he clambers up from the algae-ridden ooze and breathes the pure air he was born to breathe. Contemplating space or silence forces the mind to lose traction until it skids off the cliff into the unmanifest. Space and silence are two modalities of the same no-thing.
Blessed are those who have time, take time, make time to look within.
I have realized the ultimate fool's errand, to sit here day after day trying to verbalize the ineffable. Sometimes I feel right out of Samuel Beckett.
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