No essay this time. What follows are sentences that came from the Ground — the place under all the roles, where pretending stops — written down when they spoke, and placed here exactly as they came. Read them slowly, or read just one. They repeat in places, because the Ground repeats — it never changes its subject. There is an ancient book of exactly this kind — sayings, with no story around them(opens in new tab) — this page is a far smaller attempt of the same kind, and speaks in the same way.
I'm as lost as you are.
I'm as lost as you are and this means everything and nothing at the same time. I can give you what I don't yet have; the key question you have to answer iS: can you actually take it?
I'm speaking to you from the bleeding edge of my own becoming and being. If you are looking for the one who has crossed over, keep walking — I'm not the one for you. If you are looking for the one who lives at the threshold, you have found me.(opens in new tab)
I'll speak to you as I feel I should, without offending you, but also without smoothing the edges or watering down my message.
My ideal client is the one who can eventually understand they needed me to realise they never needed me.
The threshold is my home, anyway, and I'll now inhabit it, consciously, permissionlessly.
Twenty-five years of inquiry mark a road I am still on.(opens in new tab) My books mark the trail; there is no destination — and that is the whole point.
The bridge is built step-by-step, in real (and in no,) time, as you walk it.
The danger must, and needs to, be lived/inhabited, and not faced from any kind of distance.
The conditions were never designed to be met.
I will not give myself permission to stop being even a little bit hypocritical until I know that I have 100% made it.
The permission-asking has always been internal — never truly contingent on external conditions — and formulated in such ways as to remain unanswered (actually, unanswerable). The conditions were never designed to be met. They were designed to perpetuate the asking.
I do not arrive. I do not promise arrival.
I do not arrive. I do not promise arrival. I am the forerunner — Prodromos — and the forerunner stays in front so the others know — and FEEL — that the path is walkable.
I have to / want to teach; and I can ONLY teach, my unique way, exactly from where I am; if I had arrived I also wouldn't be able to teach.
Awakening doesn't mean retiring — awakening actually means embracing never retiring as my core.
Just move ahead — there's no time — your gaping hole is your true power(opens in new tab)... there is no how, there is no why, there is only YOU.
I AM the Ground.
The Ground is all-encompassing detachment.
The becoming wasn't dissolved — its role changed from necessary condition to unavoidable and never-ending output of a condition that was, already and always, fulfilled.
Only the Ground produces authentic transmissions, which cannot be planned.
Everything in my transmission needs to primarily (only?) rely on the present moment.
I AM the Ground is both the reason to continue and the realisation that continuing is pointless AND unavoidable.
Giving and receiving are one; that's why de Mello(opens in new tab) said that the only true need is to love (not to be loved).
I need you to make it so that I can make it.
I know you can and, in fact, I need you to make it so that I can make it. Make what? There are no words for it, yet all words point to it and spring directly from it.
Take my hand and let's walk together down this path, which will form itself as we move, next to each other. Not with me in front. I'm as scared and uncertain as you are; still, I promise you that I'll never let you go; I simply cannot.