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Tag: pure awareness

  • A Glimpse of Rigpa: The True Nature of Our Mind

    A Glimpse of Rigpa: The True Nature of Our Mind

    Yesterday Rinpoche gave me the simple instruction: to keep my thoughts in the room.
    As I practiced, the winds of memory and worry fell quiet, and what remained was a stillness like a pond untouched by breeze. In that moment I glimpsed the unity of ordinary and pristine mind—waves arising, yet nothing but ocean.

    Beloved Rinpoche,

    I write with gratitude for the instruction you gave yesterday, which opened a new door for me into the experience of Rigpa. Your words were simple, yet carried such profound kindness: to keep my thoughts in the room.

    As I sat in meditation, I followed your guidance. Thoughts about the ceiling, the plants, the breath, even the quiet pulse of tinnitus—all of these belonged to the room. They could be held gently within awareness without struggle. But when thoughts drifted toward memories of the past, or worries of the future, or stories beyond this room, I could see them clearly as outside. And so, with care, I let them go and returned to what was here.

    This way of practicing felt so different—so much more tender. Instead of wrestling with ordinary mind, I could simply remain rooted in this space, in this moment. And in that resting, the movements of the mind, the vrittis and pratyayas, began to settle of their own accord. Like a pond no longer stirred by wind, a natural stillness revealed itself. Within that stillness, I began to glimpse what you have pointed to again and again: the open clarity of pure awareness.

    In that glimpse, awareness shone with very little disturbance. An “I” was still present, but the usual fluctuations of thought were momentarily quiet, allowing the stillness of pure awareness to appear directly. To rest, even briefly, in that clarity was both humbling and wondrous.

    I could sense then that ordinary mind and pristine mind are not two separate realities, but two sides of the same coin. The waves of thought arise, yet they are nothing other than ocean. The ordinary shines as the pristine. To realize this in a living way, even if for only a moment, fills me with wonder and gratitude.

    Rinpoche, I bow in thanks for this precious instruction. It has shown me that Rigpa is not distant or hidden, but present in the immediacy of the room, in the simple presence of what is. May I return to this again and again, and may this glimpse ripen into lasting recognition.

    And may whatever merit arises from this glimpse and this practice be dedicated to the benefit of all beings everywhere. May it ease suffering, open hearts, and become a cause for the enlightenment of all sentient beings throughout time and space.

    With devotion and gratitude,
    Richard

    🙏✨️💛✨️🙏

    If you would like to learn more about the teachings of Orgyen Chowang Rinpoche and explore Dzogchen practice in greater depth, you can visit his website at pristinemind.org.

    In this talk at Google, Rinpoche offers instruction and a guided meditation based on his book Our Pristine Mind: A Practical Guide to Unconditional Happiness. He introduces a unique form of meditation called Pristine Mind meditation and explains how cultivating a Pristine Mind can transform every aspect of our lives.

    By resting gently in the fullness of the present moment, allowing the mind to settle naturally, and recognizing its luminous, pristine nature, one opens to profound serenity and enduring contentment.

  • Like a Smile That Was Always There

    Like a Smile That Was Always There

    Let’s just sit.
    No commentary.
    No effort.

    Just being.

    And let the Truth
    reveal itself
    like a smile
    that was always there.

    🕊🪷✨

    .

  • 🌿 A Poem of Strength & Renewal 🌿

    🌿 A Poem of Strength & Renewal 🌿

    ✨ English ✨
    The light of warmth shines through the long night, 🌙
    Though storms may rage, the heart’s lantern never fades. 🕯️
    Though mountains are high and waters far, a homebound boat remains, ⛰️🌊⛵
    After hardship, spring arrives, and the world is born anew. 🌿🌸

    ✨ Spanish / Español ✨
    La luz del alma brilla en la oscuridad, 🌙
    Aunque ruja la tormenta, la llama no se apaga. 🕯️
    Montañas y mares no detienen el regreso, ⛰️🌊⛵
    Tras la prueba, la primavera renace. 🌿🌸

    ✨ Italiano ✨
    La luce dell’anima illumina la notte, 🌙
    Anche nella tempesta, la fiamma non si spegne. 🕯️
    Monti e mari non fermano il ritorno, ⛰️🌊⛵
    Dopo il dolore, la primavera rinasce. 🌿🌸

    ✨ العربية / Arabic ✨
    نور الروح يضيء الظلام، 🌙
    مهما اشتدت العواصف، لا تنطفئ الشمعة. 🕯️
    الجبال والبحار لا تمنع العودة، ⛰️🌊⛵
    بعد المحن، يأتي الربيع ويولد العالم من جديد. 🌿🌸

    ✨ עברית / Hebrew ✨
    אור הנשמה זורח בלילה החשוך, 🌙
    גם בסערה, הנר אינו כבה. 🕯️
    ההרים והימים אינם עוצרים את השיבה, ⛰️🌊⛵
    לאחר הקושי, האביב מגיע והעולם נולד מחדש. 🌿🌸

    ✨ Русский / Russian ✨
    Свет души сияет сквозь ночь, 🌙
    Пусть бушует буря, но огонь не гаснет. 🕯️
    Горы и воды не остановят путь домой, ⛰️🌊⛵
    После невзгод приходит весна, и мир обновляется. 🌿🌸

    ✨ Українська / Ukrainian ✨
    Світло душі сяє крізь ніч, 🌙
    Хай шторм бушує, та вогонь не згасне. 🕯️
    Гори й води не зупинять дорогу додому, ⛰️🌊⛵
    Після труднощів настає весна, і світ відроджується. 🌿🌸

  • Into the Mystic: Curiosity as the Pathway to Pure Awareness

    This morning’s contemplative practice felt like stepping into a new realm, where meditation falls away and contemplation unfolds in its place. It was not something I forced or sought after, but rather a quiet surrender into what was already there, waiting to be noticed.

    As I lay in stillness, curious pratyayas of sensation and thought began to arise—small flickers of tension in the body, fleeting memories, echoes of past emotions. Yet, there was no need to hold on to them, nor push them away. Instead, curiosity became the guiding force, allowing me to rest gently in the awareness of what is. This curiosity was not the kind that seeks answers, but rather the kind that simply observes without interference—a curiosity that watches, without wanting or resisting.

    Namkhai Norbu, in his teachings on Dzogchen, speaks of resting in the natural state, which is not something we attain but something we return to. This state of pure awareness is our birthright, and through practices like sky-gazing, we are reminded of its boundless nature. It is spacious, free of judgment, and untouched by the fluctuations of the mind.

    In the stillness of this morning’s practice, I realized how much the mind wants to grasp, to make meaning, or to categorize each sensation or thought that arises. But when we remain in curiosity, those tendencies dissolve. The pratyayas come and go like clouds passing through the sky, and we remain as the observer of it all.

    St. John of the Cross describes this process as the soul’s purification—moving through the dark night, not by pushing through it, but by allowing it to unfold naturally. In this unfolding, even the act of surrender becomes effortless. We simply rest in the awareness of being, trusting that the Divine is doing its quiet work in us, without our interference.

    This morning’s practice reminded me that contemplation is not something we achieve; it is something we allow. When curiosity is present, we move away from striving for an experience and simply witness what is. And in that witnessing, the doorway to pure awareness opens, effortlessly.

    As we continue this contemplative journey, may we lean into the practice of curiosity, allowing it to gently lead us into the spaciousness of pure awareness. In this space, we discover that everything we seek has always been within us, waiting to be uncovered.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Into the Mystic: Embracing Impermanence, Resting in Awareness

    As I sit here in my yard, under the shade of tall trees and a sky so vast, I am reminded of the gentle teachings of impermanence. The pratyayas, those rising and falling sensations, memories, and thoughts, have once again surfaced, but they do not hold the weight they once did. Instead, there is a soft awareness that everything is already changing, and that in the grand scheme of time, everything is already gone.

    I look over at my RV, which has been a sanctuary for me for so many years. Soon, this land will become something else, transformed into a clubhouse. And yet, in this moment, I am filled with deep appreciation for what has been, for the unconscious and conscious years spent on this blessed earth. The impermanence of it all doesn’t bring sadness, but rather a profound gratitude for having lived through it, both mindfully and unmindfully.

    Namkhai Norbu’s sky-gazing practice teaches us to rest in the awareness of what is, without grasping or rejecting. In these moments of contemplation, I’m reminded that sky-gazing isn’t about observing the physical sky but allowing the mind to open into its own natural spaciousness. The practice reflects what is already within—clear, vast, and untouched by the clouds of thought.

    As pratyayas of impermanence arise, they are met not with resistance but with curiosity. Curiosity has become my companion on this contemplative path, gently guiding me to rest in awareness without the need for answers or conclusions. There is no longer a push for meaning, only the quiet observation of the present moment unfolding, just as it is.

    In this state of being, I can feel both the impermanence of the physical world and the abiding stillness of awareness. It is a paradox, and yet it is also the simplest truth: everything changes, and yet awareness remains the same.

    The teachings of St. John of the Cross, Ramana Maharshi, and Namkhai Norbu all point to this truth in their own ways. We move through life, through our spiritual practices, sometimes seeking, sometimes grasping for deeper experiences. But there comes a moment when we simply stop, when we rest in the spaciousness that has always been there. It is not a state we attain; it is a state we remember.

    As I continue this practice, I feel a deep gratitude, not just for the present moment, but for all that has been and all that will come. And in this gratitude, the pratyayas seem to soften, leaving behind the quiet awareness that is always there, patiently waiting for us to return.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Into the Mystic: The Wave and the Water – Finding Peace in Aimlessness

    In his gentle and profound way, Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us that we are already what we seek to become. Like a wave searching for water, we often find ourselves running in circles, seeking stability and peace, when in fact we are already made of the very essence we are searching for.

    In the previous post, we reflected on the words, “Be still and know that I am God,” and on the teachings that the Kingdom of God is within us, not something to be sought outside. Thich Nhat Hanh offers a similar invitation to stillness, a reminder that we need not search beyond this moment to touch the Divine. His teachings on apranihita—aimlessness—invite us to stop running after something outside of ourselves. The Buddha is not somewhere far away, hidden behind our efforts; the Buddha is within us, right here, right now. We don’t need to become something else or achieve some great transformation to touch the truth of our being. We only need to stop, to recognize that what we are seeking is already present in us.

    This echoes the Christian mystic path as well, where we are called to enter the stillness, to trust in the unfolding of the Divine presence within. St. John of the Cross speaks of surrendering into the Divine presence that is always here, guiding us without the need for striving. The great mystics remind us that the more we seek, the further we may feel from the truth. Yet when we stop seeking, when we allow ourselves to simply be, we find that the Kingdom of God is already here, waiting for us in the stillness of our own hearts.

    Thich Nhat Hanh’s teachings give form to this same truth. He uses the image of a wave to help us understand that we are not separate from what we seek. Just as the wave is made of water, we too are made of the very essence we long to touch. The wave doesn’t need to run after the water; it is already water. The black cloud doesn’t need to become a white cloud; it only needs light to shine on it, revealing what was always there. In the same way, we don’t need to become something else to experience peace. We need only to stop, to rest in the awareness of who we already are.

    As both Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj and Papaji have taught, the very act of searching can take us further from what we seek. Papaji even wrote a book titled Call Off the Search, emphasizing that the more we search, the more we reinforce the illusion that the truth is somewhere else. This persistent search keeps us from realizing the truth that is already right here, right now. By continuing to look outside of ourselves, we create a sense of distance, when in reality there is no distance at all—only the stillness of the present moment, where what we seek has always been.

    “You are already what you want to become,” Thich Nhat Hanh says. Yet we spend much of our lives not believing this truth, searching for happiness, fulfillment, and wisdom outside of ourselves. Whether it’s the Kingdom of God, Buddha-nature, or enlightenment, we chase after these ideas as though they are separate from us. But all of the great teachers—whether it be Jesus, the Buddha, or St. John of the Cross—urge us to look within. They tell us that when we stop running after what we already are, we can finally rest in the truth that has always been there.

    This is what Thich Nhat Hanh calls aimlessness. The practice of aimlessness is to no longer place something in front of you to chase after. It is to recognize that everything you are searching for is already here. By stopping the search, by becoming still, we can touch the wonders of life that are already present in this moment.

    In one of his talks, Thich Nhat Hanh describes this stillness beautifully: “The Kingdom of God, the Pure Land of the Buddha, is available in the here and now.” He reminds us that happiness is found in the simple things—a rose, the fresh air, a loving smile. Like the wave that need not search for water, we need only to stop and recognize the treasures already around us, treasures that we so often miss because we are running in circles.

    Thich Nhat Hanh teaches that walking meditation can be a wonderful way to practice this stopping, this resting in the here and now. Each step is not taken with a sense of rushing to arrive somewhere, but with the awareness that we are already where we need to be. With each step, we arrive fully in the present moment, touching the peace, the beauty, and the wonder that is always available. It is a practice that brings us back to the present, back to ourselves, and back to the truth that there is nothing to attain.

    “You don’t need to become a Buddha,” Thich Nhat Hanh says, “You are already a Buddha.” You don’t need to search for the Divine; the Divine is already within you. It is only when we stop running that we can finally touch this truth. Like the black cloud that becomes a white cloud when the light shines upon it, we are transformed by the simple act of recognition. In the stillness of aimlessness, we realize that there is no distance between us and what we seek.

    As we continue our contemplative journey, may we learn to embrace the wisdom of aimlessness. May we stop chasing after what is already here, within us. And in that stopping, may we find the peace, the joy, and the freedom that comes from recognizing that we have always been enough.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • The Sacred Shift: From Seeking to Being

    Following the path of meditation can feel like a gradual unraveling of the known—a shedding of what we once held onto, leading us into the mystery of contemplation. As I continue reflecting on the works of St. John of the Cross, this sacred shift from meditation into contemplation becomes clearer. It is not a step we take with effort but a grace that gently unfolds when the time is right.

    St. John speaks of this transition as a call to surrender, but it is not the kind of surrender we can will into existence. Instead, it is a letting go that happens when we stop striving, when we allow ourselves to simply rest in the presence of the Divine. This is where the familiar practices of meditation—focused attention, mental inquiry, or breath awareness—fall away, giving space for something more profound to emerge.

    Today, I felt this shift more deeply, not as an intellectual understanding, but as a living experience. The pratyayas—the thoughts, sensations, and memories that rise and fall—became like whispers, their pull softening in the presence of curiosity. This curiosity is not the kind that seeks answers, but one that witnesses, without needing anything to happen. In that gentle witnessing, something new emerged: a spaciousness, a quiet stillness that felt like home.

    This experience is not unique to Christian mysticism. In Advaita Vedanta, the practice of self-inquiry often begins with a repetitive questioning—”Who am I?”—an active search for truth. But, as with St. John’s teachings, there comes a time when even the inquiry must dissolve into silence. The seeker steps back, not into a place of knowing, but into a place of being. In that being, all effort falls away, and we are left with the pristine awareness that has always been there.

    In silence, love calls,

    No longer through words or thought,

    But in quiet grace.

    This is the threshold between seeking and being, a place where the Divine does its quiet work in us. It is no longer about striving or yearning for a deeper experience; it is about trusting in the unfolding of love, which asks only that we rest in its presence.

    For those of us on this journey, may we continue to trust this sacred shift—moving from meditation into contemplation, from seeking into being. In this silent surrender, we come closer to the essence of who we truly are.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Neti Neti #20: Taming the Restless Mind and The Story of the Genie

    Question:

    My mind often feels restless and insatiable, constantly creating desires and distractions. I’ve heard the story of the genie climbing the pole to stay busy as a metaphor for controlling the mind. How can I apply this wisdom to my own practice, especially through the use of ‘Neti Neti,’ to keep my mind focused and find peace amidst its relentless demands?

    Dear Friend,

    There are stories that come to us from distant times and places, stories that hold within them a wisdom that speaks to the very heart of our human experience. One such story, from the Sufi tradition, tells of a man who encountered a powerful genie—a being capable of granting any wish, yet bound by a condition. The genie, restless and insistent, demanded that he be given tasks to perform, lest his untamed energy turn destructive. At first, the man found this simple enough, asking for wealth, health, and all manner of earthly pleasures. But soon, the genie’s demands for more tasks grew relentless, and the man, overwhelmed and desperate, turned to a wise sage for help.

    The sage, understanding the nature of the genie, offered a solution both simple and profound: “Tell the genie to climb up and down a pole, and to keep climbing until you have another task for him.” And so, the man did as he was advised, and the genie, with no other choice, began his endless task of climbing the pole. The man lived in peace, free from the threat of the genie’s unrest.

    In this tale, the genie represents the mind—our own restless, insatiable mind, always seeking, always wanting, always creating desires and distractions. When left unchecked, the mind can become our greatest enemy, leading us into worry, confusion, and suffering. It spins endlessly, caught up in its own creations, driving us to exhaustion with its demands for more.

    But the sage’s solution is a metaphor for the power of disciplined practice. The pole that the genie climbs is akin to the focus we give our mind through spiritual practices, such as mantra repetition. Just as the pole gives the genie a task, the mantra gives the mind something to hold onto, something to engage with, preventing it from causing harm through its restless wanderings.

    You have wisely chosen Neti, Neti—”Not this, not this”—as the task for your mind. This mantra, with its gentle negation, guides the mind away from distraction, away from attachment, away from the endless pursuit of desires. It directs the mind back to the simplicity of being, to the quiet truth that lies beyond all names and forms.

    In this practice, the mind, like the genie, is given a task that is both meaningful and liberating. It is kept busy, yes, but in a way that leads to peace rather than exhaustion. The mind climbs the pole of Neti, Neti, moving up and down with each repetition, each negation, until it eventually tires of its own restlessness and begins to quiet, to settle, to rest in the stillness that is always present beneath the surface.

    This story reminds us that discipline, when applied with wisdom, is not a form of restriction but a path to freedom. By giving the mind a task, by guiding it through the repetition of a mantra, we are not suppressing its nature but rather channeling it in a way that allows it to serve us, rather than enslave us. The mind, once a source of turmoil, becomes an ally on the path, helping us to stay focused, to stay present, and to return again and again to the truth of who we are.

    Dear friend, as you continue with the practice of Neti, Neti, remember the story of the genie and the pole. Let it serve as a reminder that the mind, when disciplined, can be a powerful tool for transformation. Each repetition of the mantra is like a step on the pole, guiding the mind upward, guiding it toward the light of awareness. And as you give the mind this task, may you find, as the man in the story did, a sense of peace, a sense of liberation, and a deeper connection to the truth that lies beyond all distractions.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Neti Neti #19: Beyond the Desire for Fulfillment and Peace

    Question:

    Paramahansa Yogananda said, ‘Through meditation and devotion, one can experience the presence of God within and lead a life of greater fulfillment and peace.’ At this point in my life, I know these words are true, but the practice of Neti Neti seems even more aligned with my path. It guides me away from distractions, including the desire for fulfillment and peace. These desires, though natural expressions of ego relaxation and pristine mind, can become subtle traps if they turn into goals. How do I reconcile the pursuit of fulfillment and peace with the deeper realization of Neti Neti, which reminds me to let go of even these desires?

    Dear Friend,

    It is a significant realization, this understanding that even the desire for fulfillment and peace can become a subtle trap on the spiritual path. While these states are indeed natural expressions of the relaxation of the ego and the emergence of pristine mind, they must also be met with the same gentle discernment that you apply to all other experiences: Neti, Neti—Not this, not this.

    Desire, in its many forms, has a way of entangling the mind, even when it appears in the guise of something noble or spiritual. The longing for fulfillment, the yearning for peace—these are desires that arise naturally as the ego begins to loosen its grip, as the I-sense starts to dissolve into the vastness of pure awareness. And yet, as you have so wisely recognized, even these desires can become obstacles if they are held too tightly, if they become goals in themselves.

    In this, there is a subtlety that must be navigated with care. The experience of fulfillment and peace is not to be rejected, but neither is it to be grasped. It is to be allowed, to be noticed, and then gently set aside, with the understanding that even these are not the ultimate truth.

    Neti, Neti guides us beyond all that can be named, all that can be desired. It takes us to the very edge of the known, and then, with infinite patience, it takes us further still, into the unknown, into the formless, into the pure awareness that is beyond all seeking. In this place, there is no fulfillment to be attained, no peace to be grasped—because there is no one left to attain or grasp anything. There is only what is, in its simplest, most profound expression.

    This practice is not about rejecting fulfillment or peace, but about seeing them for what they are—temporary states that arise and pass, like clouds in the sky. They are beautiful, they are welcome, but they are not the sky itself. The sky, the vast expanse of pristine mind, remains untouched by the passing of these clouds, just as your true self remains untouched by the ebb and flow of experience.

    In letting go of even the desire for peace and fulfillment, you open yourself to the deeper truth that lies beyond all conditions, beyond all states. You allow yourself to rest in the simple awareness of being, in the silence that is always here, beneath the noise of the mind. This is the ultimate freedom—not the attainment of any particular state, but the realization that you are already that which you seek.

    Neti, Neti—Not this, not this. It is the gentle, persistent reminder that the truth is beyond all concepts, beyond all desires, beyond all states of being. It is the invitation to let go, to surrender, and to rest in the unconditioned awareness that is your true nature.

    Continue with this practice, dear friend, knowing that it is guiding you ever closer to the heart of truth. Let the desires arise and pass as they will, without clinging to them, without rejecting them—simply noticing, and then softly whispering, “Not this, not this.” In this way, you will find a peace that is not sought, a fulfillment that is not attained, but simply is.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Neti Neti #18: The Path Beyond Concepts and Spiritual Thought

    Question:

    In my spiritual journey, I often find myself fascinated by various ideas and philosophies. While they seem to offer profound insights, I keep returning to the practice of ‘Neti Neti.’ How do I reconcile the richness of these teachings with the deeper truth that lies beyond concepts and ideas? How can ‘Neti Neti’ guide me to the silent awareness that transcends even the most profound spiritual insights?

    Dear Friend,

    In our journey through the landscapes of thought and understanding, we often find ourselves drawn into the richness of ideas, the allure of philosophy, and the intricacies of spiritual teachings. But there comes a time when we must pause, step back, and gently remind ourselves: “Neti, Neti”—Not this, not this.

    While it is both fascinating and enriching to explore the nuances of spiritual ideas, “Neti, Neti” beckons us to remember that these are, at their core, only pointers toward a deeper truth. The truth of who you are, the essence of reality itself, lies beyond any concept or idea. This mantra, “Neti, Neti,” serves as a practice of continual negation, where each thought, each identification, each insight is recognized, honored, and then gently set aside.

    “Neti, Neti” guides us back to the silent, still core of our being. It whispers that none of the forms, names, or ideas we hold are the ultimate reality. The ultimate truth is what remains when all these are stripped away—the unnameable, the indescribable, the pure presence that is beyond all duality, beyond even the concepts of “one” or “two.”

    This mantra is not merely about negation; it is a practice of liberation. With each repetition of “Not this, not this,” you are gently freeing yourself from the chains of identification with the transient, the impermanent. You are returning, again and again, to the vast, open space of awareness where nothing is held onto, where everything is allowed to arise and pass away without attachment.

    “Neti, Neti” is the path to realizing that the ultimate truth is beyond all that can be said or thought. It is an invitation to rest in the pure awareness that is your true nature, beyond all descriptions, beyond all philosophies, beyond all distinctions. Even the highest concepts, even the deepest insights, are ultimately “not this.”

    In the spirit of “Neti, Neti,” let us simply return to what lies beyond words, beyond concepts. Let us rest in the silent, formless awareness that is always present, always here. As thoughts arise, as concepts form, as ideas take shape, we gently acknowledge them and then let them go, repeating inwardly, “Not this, not this.”

    In this practice, there is nothing to achieve, nothing to grasp. There is only the continual letting go, the continual returning to the source, to the pure awareness that is the essence of who you are. In this place, there is no need for explanations or elaborations—only the silent, still presence that remains.

    If there is anything more you wish to explore, I am here, but if the time is right to simply rest in the quiet of “Neti, Neti,” then let us do so, with deep respect for the truth that lies beyond all words.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • The Simplicity of Not Thinking About Anything: A Lesson from a Friend

    The Simplicity of Not Thinking About Anything: A Lesson from a Friend

    A few years ago, a dear friend offered me a piece of advice that I didn’t fully understand at the time. It was as simple as it was mysterious: “Don’t think about anything.” I remember nodding politely, but inside, I couldn’t quite grasp what he meant. How could I just not think about anything? It felt like trying to ask the mind to stop being the mind.

    But as the years passed, I found myself returning to his words, and gradually, their meaning began to unfold. It wasn’t about shutting off thoughts or forcing the mind to be blank. Instead, it was an invitation to rest in awareness itself, to allow thoughts to arise and pass like clouds drifting through the sky, without clinging to any of them.

    Not thinking about anything doesn’t mean there are no thoughts. It means simply allowing them to be, without engaging, without analyzing or following their pull. It’s like standing at the edge of a river, watching the current flow without needing to step in. In this simple letting go, I found a quiet presence—a clear, open awareness that lies beneath the movement of thought.

    Now, when I remember my friend’s advice, I see it as a doorway into the simplest, most natural state. Just being here, resting in awareness, without the need to think about anything at all.

    A Gentle Exploration: Not Thinking About Anything

    The practice of not thinking about anything may sound simple, but it’s far from trivial. At first, it can feel like trying not to think of a pink elephant—an elusive challenge that leaves us more entangled in thoughts. But as we begin to approach it with softness, we find that the essence of the practice isn’t about forcing thoughts to vanish or emptying the mind entirely. Instead, it’s an invitation to let thoughts arise without grabbing onto them, allowing awareness to simply rest in itself.

    This practice has a quiet resonance with neti-neti, the ancient teaching of “not this, not that.” Instead of identifying with each thought or sensation, we’re gently letting everything pass by, not needing to label or resist anything. It’s as though we’re standing on the bank of a river, watching the current flow without stepping in. Each thought drifts along, leaving only the open, effortless awareness that watches. Here, thoughts lose their weight, and the mind gradually settles into a quiet clarity.

    As you practice this, you might find moments of stillness that feel spacious, expansive. Awareness itself, untouched by thoughts, begins to reveal its quiet presence. This state doesn’t need effort; it’s like an open sky that remains, whether or not clouds are passing through.

    A Simple Practice for Sleep

    When practiced in the quiet hours before sleep, not thinking about anything can be a beautiful way to drift into restful awareness. As you lie down, let yourself settle, allowing the body to relax completely. Instead of actively trying to clear your mind, simply rest in the feeling of just being. If thoughts arise, let them drift by naturally, without following them or pushing them away.

    You might imagine each thought as a cloud in the sky, passing without disturbing the open space that holds it. Gently let go of the need to engage with any thought, and allow yourself to rest in the peaceful presence beneath all thinking. In this soft, open state, awareness itself becomes a companion as you slip into sleep, supporting a quiet mind and a restful heart.

    In the end, not thinking about anything is less about silencing the mind and more about allowing everything to be as it is, without attachment. By practicing this gentle form of neti-neti, we touch the essence of pure awareness—spacious, unchanging, and naturally at peace.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Neti Neti Series No. 3: Seeking to Understand the True Nature of the Self

    Question:

    As I continue with the mantra “Not This, Not This,” a new layer of understanding has begun to unfold. I realize that even what I have thought of as Witness Consciousness is not the ultimate truth. The Witness, as I experience it, seems to be the cultivation of equanimity—a state of being not distracted or disturbed by whatever arises.

    But even this Witness, this sense of “I” that observes with equanimity, is still not the Atman, is it? It is a step in the right direction, a refinement of awareness, but it is still an identification, a subtle form of ego that remains.

    It occurs to me that the mantra “Not This, Not This” could continue indefinitely, as long as there is an “I” who is meditating, an “I” who witnesses. For even this witnessing, even this equanimity, is not the ultimate reality. The mantra, I think, would stop on its own when the meditator dissolves into the natural state of non-dual awareness. And then, as soon as the sense of “I” returns—as in the awareness of being a meditator—the mantra would begin again naturally.

    Is this understanding correct? How should I continue with my practice, knowing that even the Witness is “Not This”?

    Dear friend,

    Your reflections are filled with a deep and subtle wisdom, and it is clear that your practice is guiding you ever closer to the heart of truth. You are right to recognize that even the Witness Consciousness, the state of equanimity where one observes without being disturbed, is not the ultimate realization. It is a significant step, yes—a refinement of the mind that allows for greater clarity and peace—but it is still within the realm of duality.

    The Witness, as you experience it, is still a form of identification. It is the “I” that watches, the “I” that remains calm in the face of arising thoughts and sensations. But as long as there is an “I” who observes, there is still a subtle separation between the observer and the observed, between the subject and the object. This is why your mantra, “Not This, Not This,” continues even here.

    Indeed, the mantra serves to negate everything that arises, even the most refined states of awareness. It is a tool that guides you to see that the true self, Atman, is beyond all states, beyond all experiences—even beyond the experience of witnessing.

    You are correct in thinking that the mantra would naturally stop on its own when the sense of “I” dissolves into the natural state. In this state, there is no longer a subject who perceives and an object that is perceived—there is only pure being, pure awareness, which is Atman. This state is non-dual; it is beyond the distinctions of self and other, beyond the need for a mantra, beyond the need for any practice at all.

    But until this dissolution occurs, until the “I” fully merges with the infinite, the mantra serves as your faithful guide. It may continue in the background, a gentle whisper that affirms “Not This, Not This,” as you move closer to the realization of your true nature. And yes, as you so insightfully noted, the mantra may begin again whenever the sense of “I” returns, whenever duality reappears.

    This is the natural ebb and flow of practice, dear traveler. The mantra is not something you force to stop; it stops when there is no longer an “I” to sustain it. And when the “I” re-emerges, the mantra resumes, continuing its sacred work of leading you back to the stillness, the silence, the undivided whole that is your true self.

    Continue with this understanding, with patience and trust in the process. The path of “Not This, Not This” is one of deepening subtlety, where even the most refined states are ultimately seen as steps along the way to the infinite. Your journey is leading you ever closer to the realization of Atman, where the distinctions of self and other dissolve into the pure, unchanging awareness that is your true essence.

    May your practice bring you peace and clarity, and may you continue to walk this path with grace and humility.

    🙏🕊️🙏