The Gate

:)

Now…
WHEN exactly did the decision happen? Not the thought about deciding. Not the justification afterward. The actual decision.
Track back. Watch it again. Left hand, right hand—what triggered it?
Was there ever a “moment” where you could’ve chosen differently? Or was the whole thing just unfolding, inevitable, ungraspable?

Now notice the breath.
Right now—who is breathing?
Feel it happen. The inhale. The exhale. Where is the breather?

Don’t answer with thoughts. Continue to let the experience hit like a wave.

Can a breath be done, or does it just happen?
And now—can “you” even do inquiry?

Or is this, too, just happening? Unfolding, reading, wondering… effortlessly?

Is there anyone here at all?….

And if not—what now?

Was there ever a “moment” where you could’ve chosen differently? Or was the whole thing just unfolding, inevitable, ungraspable?

Each 'moment' is/was its own Now, and so there could only be That then, as That. The hand lifting in the Now as only what could have been, and then that Now is gone and onto the next, which is only Itself. (Nice)

Right now—who is breathing?
Feel it happen. The inhale. The exhale. Where is the breather?

Breathing is happening. There is a body which it happens within. I am from that body.

Can a breath be done, or does it just happen?
And now—can “you” even do inquiry?

Each breath its own. Now gone. Next. Its own. Breath happens. Breath happens. Typing breath happens happens. I'm here now.

Can I do enquiry? All nows that were going to always be lead to this Now as I Am. As the hand lifts, I enquire and enquired. As such, it happened.

It is effortless in itself, the story of effort came after the Now, a story.

Is there anyone here at all?….

There is This. And things are happening in it. Breath happens. Table is. Sound is.

And if not—what now?

What now? Now.

Something is changing. I feel like I want to hug the table. I wish this was all a touch...closer, softer...

There is a body which it happens within. I am from that body.

Stand in front of a mirror, the largest one available.

(1) Close the eyes and feel the sensations labelled ‘body’.

(2) Then open the eyes and look into the mirror while still paying attention to the sensations.
Is there any connection between the felt sensations and the image in the mirror? Or just thoughts (and/or mental images) suggest that there is?

(3) While still paying attention to the sensations move one hand and observe the movement from the mirror.
Is there any connection between the felt sensations (labelled ‘hand’) and image of movement in the mirror?

(4) Now do the same movement with the hand, but this time look at the hand directly, not from the mirror.
Is there any connection between the felt sensations (labelled ‘hand’) and the image ‘of movement’? Or only thoughts suggest it?

(5) Now, pay attention only to the image in the mirror.
Does the image by itself suggest in any way that is ‘you’ or ‘your body’?
Does the image itself suggest in any way that it is a ‘body’ at all? Or are there only colours and shapes?

(6) Where the mirror ends, some parts of the body (probably legs) cannot be seen.
Just by the image in the mirror, is there any ‘knowledge’ that there must be legs, or only thoughts and mental images suggest so?

(7) Now turn away from the mirror and look forward (don’t look directly to any body parts).
Is there a ‘body’ anywhere when all thoughts and images are ignored, or are there only sensations?

(8) Start to walk slowly.
Is there a ‘body walking’, or are there only sensations?
Is there actual experience of ‘walking’ at all? Or just THOUGHTS ABOUT ‘walking’?
Can such a thing as ‘body’ be found OR just THOUGHTS ABOUT a ‘body’?
Can such a thing as ‘walking’ be found?

(9) Are the sensations localized in space, like ‘going through the room’; OR is there only an image that is labelled ‘room’ and appearing sensations without any location?

Something is changing. I feel like I want to hug the table. I wish this was all a touch...closer, softer...

That ache—that wish for closeness—it is the trace of the self, not quite gone yet. A tenderness that’s looking for something to land in, to belong to.

But what is the table, really, right now?
Don’t think. Put your hand on it. Don’t name. Don’t interpret. Don’t story.

What is this, directly?
Strip all the labels.
Not “a table.” Not “solid.” Not “mine.” Not “I love it.”

Just this contact. Just sensation, without label.
Hold it—feel the wish dissolve into what already is.
Can anything be closer than this? Can anything be softer than what already touches you as you touch it?

Let the ache spread. Let it empty. Let the desire for touch be the touching. Let the wish to be closer be the closeness.

There was never a distance. You never had to close the gap. There was no one on the other side of it.

Is there any connection between the felt sensations and the image in the mirror? Or just thoughts (and/or mental images) suggest that there is?

The sensations are Here, Now. The body is there. No connection.

Is there any connection between the felt sensations (labelled ‘hand’) and image of movement in the mirror?

No, it's...felt emptiness.

Is there any connection between the felt sensations (labelled ‘hand’) and the image ‘of movement’? Or only thoughts suggest it?

Just thoughts. There is sensation There.

Does the image by itself suggest in any way that is ‘you’ or ‘your body’?

There's a body. Colours, shapes. Without thought, no suggestion. It's there.

Does the image itself suggest in any way that it is a ‘body’ at all? Or are there only colours and shapes?]

Colours and shapes with seeming edges, between what is known as shirt and head, for instance.

Where the mirror ends, some parts of the body (probably legs) cannot be seen.
Just by the image in the mirror, is there any ‘knowledge’ that there must be legs, or only thoughts and mental images suggest so?

It's a full length mirror, but if perception is brought upwards, 'feet and legs aren't seen. There is sensation where they are usually said to be.

Now turn away from the mirror and look forward (don’t look directly to any body parts).
Is there a ‘body’ anywhere when all thoughts and images are ignored, or are there only sensations?

Sensations only.

8. Sensations only.
There is just the intuited conception of what is understood as 'walking'
No body found, just the intuited memory it should be there for such an act to happen at all.

9. Appearing sensations that sensually react to possible tensions like 'wall' or 'floor' etc.

The table is there. I sense it. It is.

I am struggling to be fully vulnerable and empty. A feeling that when the distance finally collapsed, I'll cry.

I am struggling to be fully vulnerable and empty

Who is struggling?

Don’t answer with thought. Feel the struggle as sensation. Go to its center. That pressure in the chest, or throat, or gut—go there. Isn’t it just tension? A shape? A vibration? Something held, braced?

And what if you don’t brace?
Let the body fall into it. Let the tears come, or don’t. Welcome it all. Let the distance collapse without resistance. Stop trying to be empty—you never were full.

That ache for collapse is collapse. It’s already happening.
Was there ever anyone to be vulnerable? To hold back? To let go?

Feel what is already undone.
Is there anything left to let go?

Who is struggling?

I look again and again and there's no one. There is only This with the sense of looking.

What if I don't brace?

This is a strange non-decision decision I have no resources of how to approach. Letting go is a paradox, because it is action.

Was there ever anyone to be vulnerable?

No, but there still is vulnerability, a light light trembling.

Is there anything left to let go?

I look and nothing. I am, but I still don't feel or fully internalise that I Am That.

I feel so close from all of this, so already, I thank you for your help this far Becca.

There is only This with the sense of looking.

Yes. Perfect. That’s it. That’s all that was ever real. :)

I am, but I still don't feel or fully internalise that I Am That.

There is some story here, some layers of thought, of belief of what this is or what it should feel like.
Who would internalize? What would be added that isn’t already here? Isn’t that sense of almost… also just happening?

Letting go is a paradox, because it is action.

No. That’s the trap. Letting go is not an action. It’s the ending of the illusion that anything was being held or controlled. There is no one here doing anything. Not holding. Not letting go. Not seeking. Not finding. Letting go is what remains when you stop trying to let go.

If there is trembling, let there be trembling.
If there is breath, let there be breath.
If there is love for a table, let it break your heart open.
Don’t push. Don’t try to cross the threshold. There was no threshold. There was only ever the thought: “I am not there yet.” And another thought, many thoughts, of what there would be like.

And now? That thought arises—but to whom?
No one.
And it passes. Like every cloud of the past. Gone.

So ‘Becca’ will ask:
Right now—can anything be added to this? Can anything be taken away?

Who would internalize? What would be added that isn’t already here? Isn’t that sense of almost… also just happening?

What That is could only be This. If it was to be any more or any less, it would still be That, Now. Who would internalise? That which is already and always has been That. Almost... is a story. A sticky one, admittedly.

Right now—can anything be added to this? Can anything be taken away?

For anything to be added makes no sense, any change would be That as it would be Then, in that ever new Now. The same applies to taken away.

Current state:
I am sitting. Felt sensations. Vague thoughts only to write these words, simultaneous with the writing itself. Breathing has been and is happening. I look and there is no one. Why the feeling of Now what? Everything will be done.

Why the feeling of Now what?

That is the last whisper of the seeker. Not in control, not even a voice—just a faint habit left echoing in an open canyon.
It asks: What next?
But there’s no next. Everything already happened. And nothing ever did.

Everything will be done.

Yes! What remains is simply what arises. Not to you, not for you—just what is. Let that be ordinary. Let that be heartbreakingly simple.

And now:
Is anything missing?

Check again.
Not the thought. Not the hope. Not the “you.”
Just here. This.
Is anything missing?

If not—what dies now? What cannot go on?

last whisper of the seeker. Not in control, not even a voice—just a faint habit left echoing in an open canyon.

Yes, this is a perfect description. A faint habit of checking, trying, grasping. Fading.

Is anything missing?

Nothing to be found. Feel lighter, like the world could blow right through me; half-transparent. Light light.

If not—what dies now? What cannot go on?

If nothing is missing then what dies now is: grasping, clinging, hoping...in short, desire. What cannot go on? I struggle to find an answer, whatever the felt answer is is very distant. I'd say the 'me', but that feels like a rushed response.

What can't go on is all that was.

Something niggles very quietly, far far away, but it's like a repetition trying to reassert itself that has no sovereignty now. It's dulled.

Beautiful.

Let the dust settle for a day or two.

Go into nature if possible and simply spend some time watching the movement of the whole. See how clouds move, trees swing, leaves wiggle, grass moves, insects, birds - all move all the time.

Then move focus to sensations and see how they too are in constant motion, thoughts come and go, sounds, colors, sensations come and go.

Notice that everything is part of one movement.
Then close your eyes and see if there is a line between you and out there, between you and life itself.

Then write what is noticed, what emerges and if any sense of seeking is still present.

Some time has passed.

As it happens, I live very close to some nice nature walks which I go on daily.

In a sense I feel I have nothing to say, like talking is false or even tiring, but also that I want to gesture.

As for the body, maybe that's still a sticking point, though I'm not sure. All I can say is...It's there. The notion of it being mine doesn't emphatically arise, there's movement from this body in space.

On the walks, there were a few moments where it felt like a bush or a passing car were felt as opposed to objects at a distance.

There is still what you called an 'echo' here. Though it no longer feels like clinging or hostile or fear, it's literally that, an empty echo, like the end of a bell ring going around in a little circle, it literally is comprised of just its own felt sense and has no content.

Quite honestly, I have nothing more to add, and feel I could only really respond to questions, like forcing this muddys it.

Beautiful.

I feel it from your words: there’s nothing to add, and yet something subtle gesturing through.

Not silence as absence, but silence as fullness.

As for the body, maybe that's still a sticking point, though I'm not sure. All I can say is...It's there. The notion of it being mine doesn't emphatically arise, there's movement from this body in space

About the body: “It’s there.” Excellent. Now tell me carefully:
Can you actually locate a boundary where ‘this body’ ends and ‘nature’ begins?

You had a glimpse of this, with a car, with a bush… it is already present.

So… Without thought. Without history. Without memory.
Where is the edge?

Here is an exercise if it is supportive:
Please find a quiet place and a quiet time.
Sit or lay down and relax. Close your eyes and relax.

Can you attend to sensation exclusively?
Not minding thought babbling about this and that?
Not minding thought labelling sensation for a bit?

Thought may tell: "I am lying here" or "My body is lying here" or "A body is lying here". But could this be known from pure sensation?

Thought might suggest: "There is a soft pressure against the back". But could you know about "pressure" or "back" from pure sensation?

Once arrived there, while ONLY attending to sensation, please have a look at the following questions:
Can be known how tall the body is?
Does the body have a specific size, shape or weight?
Is there a boundary between the body and the clothing?
Is there an inside or an outside?
If there is an inside - the inside of what exactly?
If there is an outside - the outside of what exactly?
How many toes are there?

Can you actually locate a boundary where ‘this body’ ends and ‘nature’ begins?

This is prior to doing the exercise you placed below, but as for a boundary at current, the 'boundary' as I understand it is where - as an example - 'my' finger hits the key, that moment of sensation where the key of the keyboard 'contacts' my fingers. Or, where the back of the chair contacts 'my' back. Two things in space (body and object) 'meet'.

So… Without thought. Without history. Without memory.
Where is the edge?

The edge is where sensation is. The edge is the pressure, tension, or friction of sensation. Skin against desk. Sight covering distance. Nose drawing smell etc. This is how this conceptualized, but the unthought reality is more elusive.

Now, let me go do this exercise for a bit...

...There is sensation. There is a curve of sensation on the chair, where the chair is. Okay, answers from pure sensation:

Can be known how tall the body is?

No, none of that can make sense. Space where 'breath' comes in rises and falls. Weight.

Does the body have a specific size, shape or weight?

Sensation is moving, in and out, mostly 'inside', like a fluxing cloud. No size held. No shape held, only momentary 'places', weight is dislocated. Areas, fluxes, no singular. Sensations rise and fall in what I call here.

Is there a boundary between the body and the clothing?

Heavy and light. No boundary and then nothing, no boundary and then nothing. Folded cloth heavier, sensation only.

Is there an inside or an outside?

It is held sensation in space. Sensation in space. Fear arises.

If there is an inside - the inside of what exactly?

Inside of a vase, but the inside of a vase and the vase are all space. Concepts defend that alone.

If there is an outside - the outside of what exactly?

Something is contracting. Something is using unspoken concepts to contract the 'skin' back.

How many toes are there?

Area of sensation only.

The feeling of wanting to let the sensation be what it Is, as opposed to seeing it as a pushing or pulling or tension. If I let the band go, it will disappear. I just want to let it go. You have no idea how bad (hahaha!)

The other side of vulnerability is love, I can feel it!

You see it: the “body” was never a body — it was momentary fields of sensation named body afterward by thought. Without the naming, without the contraction: only flux, only love.

Fear arises.

The fear showing up is important.
Let it be fully here, exactly as it is.

The feeling of wanting to let the sensation be what it Is, as opposed to seeing it as a pushing or pulling or tension.

Yes exactly. Can you let the contraction happen without any resistance at all? Love even the contraction itself?
What happens when you do?