No One Home

A Guidebook to Discovering the Simplicity of Being

By: Joey Lott
www.joeylott.com
Published by Archangel Ink
Copyright © 2013 Joey Lott
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or
given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please
invite the person to get his or her own copy by going to http://joeylott.com/no-one-home-free-
offer/. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
 Table of Contents
Preface
What Do You Want?
Nothing Changes
Perception
Self-Inquiry
Thoughts
Seeing
Hearing
Feeling
Relationships
No End, No Attainment
 Preface
back to top

Years ago, I used to read non-duality books like they were going out of style. Among them, some
of the most provocative were those by Tony Parsons. I was both fascinated and infuriated by the
message that stated that there is no separate person (or as I prefer to say, no separate self). The
message was that everything that seemed to happen was only seemingly happening, but it
happened “for no one.” Which seemed like a load of horse shit in my view. Because it was
perfectly apparent that everything was happening for, to, and by me.

After a number of years of searching, anxiety, obsession, fear, sickness, and suffering, I was so
completely physically exhausted that I couldn't search any longer. And only then was it possible
to finally begin to explore with total innocence and curiosity. I began to discover just how
completely useless, ubiquitous, and blinding belief and conceptualization could be.

Through welcoming of whatever happens, letting go and curiosity, the confusion began to
dissolve. The imaginary boundaries between what I believed to be me and what I believed to be
everything else also dissolved. The whole imaginary structure became increasingly transparent.
And then, without any fanfare whatsoever, the whole of the imaginary structure collapsed into
the emptiness/aliveness/boundlessness that it already always is.

Nothing changed. Nothing at all. And yet nothing was believable and the simplicity and
obviousness of what is came to be seen clearly. One of the consequences of which is the
revelation that there is no one home. There is no separate self. There never was. There is nothing
there. There is only this, which is the aliveness that is perfectly evident. This is not a special
aliveness that is hidden from view, except for those who have earned it. This is just the utterly
ordinary aliveness that is already perfectly obvious. It's just that it is normally overlooked
because of all the assumptions and beliefs and conceptualization.

In this book, we will explore together the nature of reality. We will reveal the beliefs that seem to
obscure the obviousness of what is. And through simple investigation , the essential transparency
of all that is, including what we call beliefs and concepts, may become evident.

Finally, the center around which everything seems to happen may also be seen to be transparent,
and fundamentally substance-less. Then, it may be clear that all that apparently happens is
happening for no one. There is no one home. There is only aliveness.
 What Do You Want?
back to top

Throughout this book, we'll be exploring in a variety of ways, but always investigating whether
there is any findable separate self at the center of experience. Given that that is the intent of the
book, the logical question is: why would you want to discover that there is no separate self? After
all, that's just plain nuts, right? I mean, if you go tell your psychiatrist that there's no you, the
non-existent you might find its non-existent self getting a free ride to the nearest psychiatric
ward. So it's not the sort of thing that most people would want to investigate. It's a rather odd
thing to be doing given the alternatives. After all, you could be watching a movie right now
instead. So why this?

The only reason you could possibly want this is because you somehow imagine that the
discovery that the separate self does not exist will give you something. And therein lies the trap.
That is the recipe for suffering. In fact, it's just the same old thing that has perpetuated all the
suffering – the angst, the boredom, the anxiety – for all these years. You have mistakenly
believed that it is possible to escape what you don't want. And so you hope that this book and the
guidance that it promises will help you to get rid of all the unwanted stuff, and get to some
permanent, elevated state of groovy bliss.

It's alright. We've all done that. But it is a mistake every time any of us do it. It's not morally
wrong. So don't worry. You won't lose spiritual brownie points for being mistaken. But before we
continue, it will be useful if we can clear up this matter. Because, you see, you cannot get
anything. And if you're seeking something, you'll be horribly frustrated throughout.

So my advice to you is simple – stop searching for something. Instead, be curious. Be like a baby
who touches for the sake of touching, makes sounds for the sake of making sounds, looks for the
sake of looking. Be without an agenda. This is how it is possible to finally discover what is
plainly obvious. Otherwise, you bring a bunch of baggage to the exploration that colors it with
all the preconceptions.

The Belgian artist, Rene Magritte, brilliantly challenged us to drop our preconceptions with
many of his paintings. His most well-known painting, La trahison des images, is an image of a
tobacco pipe, below which is a caption: “Ceci n'est pas une pipe,” meaning “this is not a pipe.”
In the explorations that follow (and in general), if you truly wish to discover what is being
pointed to throughout this book, you will be best off to forget everything you think you know.
Because what you think you know is both wrong and an obstacle to clear seeing.

Clear-seeing occurs without any need for concepts. Concepts aren't inherently a problem or an
obstacle, but the belief in concepts as reality, or as an interpretation of reality, obscures the
simple, effortless, causeless nature of what is. Just as Magritte's painting of a pipe is not a pipe
(he was quoted as having said that should one have doubt about this fact, one could try to stuff
tobacco in it, at which point it would become clear that it is not, in fact, a real pipe), no concepts
or interpretations are reality as it is. Only reality as it is, which is totally evident (not hidden) and
completely spontaneous (rejecting any attempt to understand or compare) is reality. And the good
news is that it is already the case. Nothing needs to be done to earn it or obtain it. This is already
reality.

So in this book the “goal,” if we want to say that there is a goal, is to see what is as it is, which
necessarily means dismissing what is not immediately, non-conceptually, and effortlessly evident
and obvious. One of the many possible lynchpins of the conceptual filtering of reality is the
separate self – the one who observes, filters, does, calculates, thinks, perceives, feels, etc. The
explorations in this book are designed to reveal that the linchpin doesn't exist.

Please don't expect that the discovery of the non-existence of a separate self will necessarily
produce any major transformation. It probably won't. But that's just fine. Because when it is truly
seen, then the implication necessarily is that no transformation is necessary. Transformation is
something that matters for the individual who is trying to get something or arrive somewhere.
But when it is truly seen that the separate self was only ever an inference that has no actual,
independent existence or substance, the opportunity is to cease to care about anything pertaining
to the fictional self.

What I've just described – the invitation to cease to care – is radically opposed to just about
every piece of advice we've ever been given. And even once it is seen that there truly is no one
home, old habits die hard, as they say. So while anything is possible, in most cases the habit of
caring continues. It can even strengthen, seemingly in a futile attempt to protect the interests of
what has been seen to be a mere fantasy.

Don't expect that the clear seeing of no one home will mean pleasant experiences. It probably
won't. But my suggestion is that if you truly want peace and freedom more than anything else,
refuse to believe anything. Be willing to challenge any belief by refusing to give any attention to
it.

Most of us have become accustomed to accepting the primacy of belief. How many times have
you heard someone say, “Well, I just don't believe in [fill in the blank]?” And when we or others
make such statements, we say them as if it mattered. But guess what? It doesn't. Go ahead and
test this out. Hold a pencil out and drop it while believing that it will float in mid-air. Does the
belief make any difference? Or how about this – tomorrow, believe that the sun will move from
west to east. The belief won't matter. The sun will still move east to west no matter how hard you
believe.

Belief is just belief. It means nothing. It has no power. It is absolutely not worth giving any
attention to. Really. I promise.

But what does seem to be true is that the fixation on belief as if it mattered obscures clear seeing.
Reality is reality whether you believe or not. And the very nature of reality is so boundless,
instantaneous, and seamless that it completely defies belief or conceptualization. Reality includes
all belief and conceptualization. There is no way to understand, conceptualize, or believe in
reality. None. And that's good news. Because now you can relax! You're not holding the universe
together with your beliefs!

The search for better belief, better feelings, better thoughts, and better experience is often
pervasive. So although the exercises that we'll explore in this book may reveal insights, don't
expect that in a flash some sustained experience of groovy bliss will descend upon you forever.
Guarantees of forever are not possible, and in fact, any concern for forever is the source of
suffering. Instead, what is possible is that through a complete abandonment of concern and by
simply exploring with curiosity and openness, the obviousness and simplicity of what is may be
evident. This discovery is the discovery of peace, and it is always only available right now.
 Nothing Changes
back to top

What is it that you've been searching for? What do you hope will happen as a result of all your
effort and investment into the search? Whether you have developed a specific belief as to what
you expect the payoff to be, or whether you are like most people and only have a vague hope for
something better, the simple fact is that we generally assume that something needs to change. We
believe that what is, is not adequate or good enough, and we believe that through some change,
what is will become a paradise.

The belief in the necessity of change in order to bring about paradise or peace is a seductive one,
to be sure. But that doesn't make it true. Inherent in the belief is the notion that there is
something wrong with what is – that either something is missing or something needs to be gotten
rid of (or both). In other words, we mistakenly accept as truth the idea that peace is conditional.
So we set about trying (futilely) to create and maintain the precise conditions that we imagine
will bring about the experience that we have (arbitrarily) defined as peace.

All the while, we overlook what is obvious. Peace and freedom are – and must be –
unconditional. The conditions and circumstances that seemingly appear do not and cannot affect
peace and freedom. And so any striving for change in circumstances with the ambition of
bringing about peace is to overlook the fact that peace already is.

One of the reasons that the discovery of the non-existence of a separate self can be so helpful in
this regard is that it pulls the rug out from under the entire construct. By definition,
circumstances (which we imagine need to be changed) only exist when there is some center
around which they form. (The word literally means “to stand around [some center].”) Normally,
we believe that the circumstances (that we think need to change) are ours – they are around us.
Naturally, we rarely assume that the circumstances of, say, Mars, are problematic or need to be
changed. It is only our circumstances that we give any attention to. But when we finally see that
there is no one home, nothing at the center, then circumstances cease to have any importance.

Which isn't to say that preferences may not still exist or that reactions may not occur. When
hungry, people typically eat (if food is available). When in need of expelling excess carbon
dioxide, people typically breathe. Most people prefer eating apples to dog shit. That all happens,
as it always has and always will, without any chooser, doer, or experiencer.

Really, nothing needs to change. In fact, nothing can change. There is only what is, which is
always just this, right now as it is. Nothing can escape this. And so whatever is, is equally
allowed and included. And that includes the appearance of change. So don't make any effort to
stop the appearance of change, either. Just give no attention to any thoughts or any concern for
trying to figure anything out.
Since no change is necessary or possible, the opportunity is to cease to make any attempt to
change what is. And, part and parcel with that is making peace with what is. Since peace is
already what is, then “making peace” really just points to welcoming the obvious. Don't make
any effort to solve a problem. Stop imagining that there is a problem. No matter how convincing
the argument seems to be, stop arguing. If you want peace, then stop making war with
everything, including thoughts, beliefs, feelings, ideas, concepts, and whatever else happens to
be right now.

Hopefully you can now begin to see that the discovery of the non -existence of a separate self
requires no change. You don't need to get rid of anything. You don't need to understand anything.
You don't need to solve anything. Because there never was a separate self. There never was a
problem. There never was anything happening. It was only ever comparisons of one fantasy with
another fantasy – none of which actually references anything real.

There is no arrival. There is no destination. There is no way to know that you've “gotten it,”
because there is nothing to get nor is there anyone to get it. So whenever the attention goes to
trying to figure something out or understand or solve anything, give it up. Rest as open curiosity.
Look to see if any of the assumptions or beliefs have any substance to them.
 Perception
back to top

Oftentimes we make an artificial distinction between what we call the “inner” and the “outer.”
This distinction is a complete fabrication, since upon examination it is impossible to find the
division between the two imagined regions.

Still, the effects of the belief in the division can be far-reaching and subtle. So it can be valuable
to specifically examine the implications of it. In the preceding section, we saw how change of
circumstances is both unnecessary and impossible. But because of the artificial separation of
inner and outer, we may overlook the fact that perception, which is often imagined to be the
domain of the “inner,” is nothing more and nothing less than just more of the same fictional non -
stuff, just like circumstances.

When we first learn that circumstances needn't change, we may make the mistake of believing
that perception needs to change. We may believe that the problem isn't the circumstances, per se,
but rather how we look at them or what we think of them. But once we set about trying to change
perception, we find ourselves in familiar territory once again, because this new search is nothing
more than the same old search dressed up in new clothing. It's still founded upon the assumption
that there is something wrong with what is. And furthermore, it assumes that all of this is
centered around someone here: the separate self. We imagine that the perception that needs to be
changed belongs to and is under the control of the separate self that we mistake ourselves to be.

A lot of what gets called teachings of spiritual awakening or liberation of enlightenment actually
perpetuates this misunderstanding, because some of it explicitly claims that the way in which one
perceives needs to change. I'll suggest to you that it is much more useful to drop all pursuit of
these sorts of things and instead just be curious about what already is. Then, it may become clear
that perception, like all that happens, is not personal. Nor does it need to change. Peace and
freedom are not dependent upon perception.

The belief that perception needs to change leads to a lot of unnecessary and pointless searching
for ways in which to alter perception. In the name of “enlightenment,” people will invest a lot of
time and energy into developing specific types of perception that have been arbitrarily deemed
good. Thus, people will meditate for hours on end, fast or eat special “pure” diets, and deny
themselves sexual release among other practices aimed at “purifying” perception.

But when we do such things, we fail to recognize that these altered forms of perception are not
inherently valuable. Sure, we can alter perception – or at least seemingly so – but is any
alteration more or less valuable? And ultimately, it becomes clear that no apparent changes in
perception have any inherent value. They are never more nor less elevated.
There's nothing wrong with sitting in full lotus position with eyes half closed repeating a mantra
for eight hours at a time, taking short breaks only to drink purified cow's urine and a tiny morsel
of ghee infused with highly sattvic herbal preparations. But there's also nothing wrong with
taking LSD or taking a nap or masturbating. All result in altered perception, and none of them
mean anything. The insights and revelations that may arise from any seeming activity are not
useful or valuable in any way. The only possible exception is when the insight arises that
prompts one to stop searching for anything other than exactly what is, and that is only useful if
one actually stops. But no understanding, no conceptualization, no planning, and no strategies
will ever be of any value.

Ultimately, though perception may seem to change, that is an illusion. Perception is simply the
perceiving itself, which is unconditional. In this sense, perception is not unlike space, because
though the apparent rearrangement of things in space may give a sense that something has
changed, space remains unchanged. So perception, like all else, is ultimately changeless and
already flawless. When this is seen then simply release any fixation and soften into and as the
perceiving, which is found to be inseparably one with the seamlessness of reality as it is. Then it
is clear that nothing needs to change.

One of the ways in which we find ourselves (seemingly) trapped is by way of the pursuit of
something extraordinary. We can believe that what is isn't enough and that what is needed is
something extraordinary – something elevated, transcendent, and special. That's why we are
attracted to what seem to be extraordinary alterations in the qualities of perception, such as are
produced by meditation or LSD.

Yet the discovery of the simplicity of effortless aliveness, which is already always the case,
reveals that this aliveness, this peace, does not depend upon any particular qualities of
perception. And, in fact, the ordinary qualities of perception are enough. Nothing needs to
change. No matter what, by virtue of the fact that whatever is in this moment is all that is, we can
always be assured that this is enough and that nothing needs to change. If anything is required, it
is only the dropping of belief and the softening into and as the effortlessness of what is – even if
what is seems scary or unpleasant.

Finally, the discovery of ever-present peace is the abandonment of the notion that any of it
matters or that any of it has a reference point. If there is elation then that is fine, but it isn't your
elation. If there is fear, that is fine, but it isn't your fear. And it isn't your perception. It's just what
is. Nothing more. Nothing less.
 Self-Inquiry
back to top

Self-inquiry is a method that is popularly reduced to the question, “Who am I?” When I was first
introduced to the method, I would ask myself the question over and over again, much like a
mantra. I was hopeful that the repetition had some magical power that would reveal the answer,
which would then unlock the gates of heaven, giving me eternal groovy bliss. Or, at the very
least, I was hoping that it would give relief from the incessant anxiety I experienced.

Eventually, I realized that I was being ridiculous. I gave up on the magical incantation approach
and decided to get serious. Instead of mindlessly repeating the question, I began to tackle it like a
puzzle. I tried and tried and tried as hard as I could to break through to a real answer. I wanted to
know who I really am. I assumed that there must be an answer that could be found and
understood. Yet the harder I tried, the more the answer eluded me. I couldn't find anything. And
yet, I didn't get the joke.

Self-inquiry is not a mantra nor is it a question to be answered. The essence of self-inquiry is to

be truly curious about what you have assumed to be yourself. Instead of assuming that what you
have believed to be yourself is actually true, the opportunity is to investigate. The investigation is
not a mystery that needs to be solved. Rather, it is the unraveling of the compulsion to try to
solve anything. Self-inquiry is the dissolution of what was mistaken to be oneself into the
boundless nature of what is. When it is clear that there is no separate self, then nothing needs to
be solved.

The mistake is to pursue self-inquiry as a means to get something or somewhere. But the essence
of self-inquiry is to see that what was believed to be the self has no substance and does not exist.
There is no center. There is no one home.

Yet if you begin with a preconceived idea or a goal, the clarity of the utter simplicity and
effortlessness of reality will remain elusive. In other words, you cannot strive to find that there is
no center. Instead, you must look for what you have assumed to be true.

At some point most of us have encountered a mirage. When we first saw a mirage, before we
knew better, we may have believed that what we were looking at was water off in the distance.
But after a while, we came to find that what we were seeing was not, in fact, water, but a mirage.
It still looked like water, but somehow, through investigation, we discovered that it is just an
illusion.

In the same way, there is a phenomenon that we call the self. But it is an illusion. In fact, there is
nothing there. Yet the mere belief that it is an illusion will not satisfy our curiosity. Instead, we
have to investigate. So in these exercises you can begin to investigate with curiosity. Set aside
everything that you think you know, and be willing to explore with openness. Approach these
explorations as though you know nothing. Be like a baby exploring the world for the first time.

For the first exploration, begin by sitting in a chair. Or, if that is not possible for some reason,
then you can still do the exploration – just substitute whatever you are doing for the words
“sitting in a chair” in the following instructions:

To start, close your eyes. With eyes closed, are you sitting in a chair? And if so, what is your
proof that is so?

When I do this exploration with people, most often the response that people offer is that they are
sitting in a chair and that the proof of that is that they feel the sensations of the body against the
chair.

There are sensations seeming occurring. That much is relatively true. But what proof do you
have that the sensations are of a body and a chair? Do you have any proof of a body or a chair?

As you do this exploration, remember that you are exploring with curiosity and without any
preconception. That means that you are not to assume anything. Just because you think there is a
body and a chair doesn't mean that there is any proof that is so. Can you find any proof?

Normally, the only non-conceptual evidence that anyone can find is that there are sensations.
That is all. The sensations are merely sensations, and without attaching concepts and labels to
them, that is all we can say. They are not sensations of a body against a chair.

Thus far, there is no proof of a body sitting in a chair. There are only sensations.

Next, just out of curiosity, can you find a location for the sensations? At this point it is usually
tempting to answer that there is a location. That is because normally we conceive of sensations as
being located relative in space to where we imagine the center of awareness is (oftentimes in the
head). But without concepts, without relying upon any imaginary spacial construct, can you say
for certain that the sensations have a location?

Now, are there any boundaries to the sensations? Do the sensations have a beginning or an end in
space? Once again, it is sometimes tempting to answer based on belief. But if you explore with
curiosity and without concept, what do you find? Can you say for certain that sensations have a
size or any boundary? Or is sensation seemingly infinite?

So far we've been exploring this with eyes closed. Now it's time to put it to the test by opening
the eyes. Go ahead and open your eyes, and the first thing I'd like you to do is notice what has
changed. Even though the open-eyed experience can seem dramatically different than the closed-
eyed experience, what you'll notice is that all that changes is that the content of seeing becomes
more complex. Feeling, hearing, smelling, and tasting remain unchanged. With eyes closed, there
was likely a relatively homogenous field of vision, largely undifferentiated. With eyes open,
there may be more color, more shape, more movement. But that's the only difference.

Most of us are accustomed to labeling and conceptualizing the content of seeing. We reflexively
interpret seeing to signify that there is a here and a there and that the content is made of discrete
things with me, here, as the center of everything that is seen. But for the purposes of this
exploration, drop all concepts. It is fine if the concepts, thoughts, and labels happen. But just
don't believe them. Remain curious and open, like a baby.

Exploring with this curiosity, is there any proof that you are sitting in a chair? It may be tempting
to consult concepts for an answer and say that yes, you are sitting in a chair. But without
concepts, what is the proof? All that was here with eyes closed is still here. There are sensations.
But the sensations are not proof of anything other than their own existence. Just sensations. So
what is new with eyes open is that more complex, varied visual data is seemingly happening. But
does that prove that you are sitting in a chair?

Without concept, it is impossible to say that there is any proof. There is just seeing, feeling,
hearing, tasting, smelling. That is it. None of it has any inherent meaning. And if you are truly
like a newborn baby, then you simply explore without any preconception because there is
nothing with which to compare anything. In truth, you have no idea what this is.

There is seeing happening, and normally we assume that it is my seeing. But what proof is there
that this is your seeing? Without concept can you know that any other seeing is happening? Or is
this the only seeing? And although normally we infer a seer, can you find one? Without concept
is there a center to the seeing? Is there anyone home?

At this point, normally one of two things may happen. Either you dissolve completely or you
withdraw into a subtle identity called the observer or witness. If there is a complete dissolution,
then just enjoy the dissolution. Rest as your true nature. Don't try to understand. Don't try to
formulate a strategy to maintain this. Just let go. Whatever happens is just fine. Don't get
involved. Remain as the emptiness/aliveness of the centerlessness of what is.

On the other hand, if there is still a sense of separation – that you are the observer of what is –
then let's continue to explore. Logically, if there is a separation – if you are the observer or if you
are something called awareness – then there must be a boundary, a division, between you as the
observer and what is being observed. So see if you can find that boundary. If you cannot find the
boundary, then how can you say there is any separation?

Another way to explore this is to look for the observer. Are you aware of the observer? If you
cannot find the observer, then how do you know it exists? Or if you can find the observer, then
on what grounds to be imagine that you are the observer? Either way, the observer is no longer
something separate. It is either non-existent or it is just another conceptual object that – upon
closer examination – has no substance.
 Thoughts
back to top

When I was a child around the age of 10, I had the realization that there is space between and
around every thought. This aroused so much curiosity that I sought to reduce the frequency of
thought and to silence the mind for the next several decades. I practiced various forms of
meditation. I used various herbs and drugs. I did various extreme practices of fasting and sleep
deprivation. But it was all futile and pointless and a huge distraction from the simplicity of what
already, unavoidably is.

There is absolutely no need to stop thought. There is no need to silence your mind. Trying to do
so is a huge waste of time. It only prolongs the suffering. And yet, so many of us have gotten
hoodwinked into believing that we need to do something about thoughts. Many “spiritual”
teachings suggest that we will “advance” if we learn to stop our thoughts, or at least control them
and purify them and therefore only think “good” thoughts. Which ends up getting many of us
twisted up into mental knots, which reinforces the false notion that there is a problem that needs
to be solved. It is a vicious cycle.

What we rarely do is investigate the nature of thought and the supposed thinker. Yet this
investigation can alleviate all the suffering that we wrongly attribute to thinking. All we need to
do is to look with openness and curiosity. So set aside all assumptions. Set aside all references.
Let's explore what is really here.

First, we'll explore thought. In my communication with people I find that most people experience
thought as words. At least that tends to be the most dominant way in which most people
experience thoughts. But there are other ways in which we experience thoughts. There are also
images, sounds, feelings, tastes, and smells. The latter are very rarely the dominant way in which
people experience thought, so we won't explore those in depth. But we will explore images as
well because that turns out to be fairly common.

For this exploration, let's investigate the thought 'h and.' To start with, let's examine the word
'hand.' You can simply see the word in your “mind's eye,” or you can write it on a piece of paper
and look at it. Now, is the word 'hand' the same as the actuality of hand?

Next, say the word out loud. “Hand.” Is the sound of the word the same as the actuality of hand?

You can clap your hands or snap your fingers. Is the sound made by the hand the same as the
actuality of hand?

Now, close your eyes, and see the image of a hand in your “mind's eye.” Is the image the same as
the actuality of hand?
Get a piece of paper and a pen or pencil, and draw a hand. Do it quickly. Draw the image of a
hand that comes to mind. Then look at it. Is the symbol the same as the actuality of hand?

You can also feel what hand feels like. But is the feeling the same as the actuality of hand?

All of these modes of thought are symbolic. They are not the actuality. They are mere symbols.
There is nothing wrong with symbols. But if you want the actuality, the symbol will never
satisfy. If you are hungry, the symbol for food will not help you. And if you approach everything
symbolically, you will never see what is actually here. You will overlook the actuality and settle
for mere symbols. That is why the artist has to unlearn symbolic thought and instead see with the
innocence and purity of raw seeing. Ironically, this is often done in order to then generate a
symbol!

So thoughts are symbols that are not the actuality of what is. The next question is, do the
symbols reference the actuality of what is? It may be tempting to answer yes, but instead of
answering conceptually, investigate directly. Does a symbol actually reference something real?
Does the word, image, or any other symbol of hand reference the actuality of hand? In order to
explore this you have to set aside all symbols, all concepts, and explore the true nature of hand.
Can you find anything? Is there anything there that you can definitively say, “This is a hand?”
Are there absolute boundaries? And if so, how do you know? In order to know, don't you have to
consult concepts?

If you explore without any preconceptions, you may find that there is nothing that can be
referenced. There is the aliveness that is all that is, which can appear to be differentiated, but it is
totally boundless and seamless. So the actuality of hand is boundless aliveness. No symbol can
reference boundless aliveness. No symbol can reference the actuality of what is.

Thoughts are neither the actuality of what is nor do they reference the actuality of what is. But
then what are thoughts? Is there actually any substance to a thought? Are you sure that thoughts
exist? If so, what is your proof?

Look for a thought. See if it is possible to find one. Can you capture a thought? Can you find the
boundaries of a thought? Can you find the beginning and end of a thought? Can you find where a
thought comes from and where it goes?

Thought not only has no meaning or reference, but when you look for it, you cannot find it!
Thought is just an imaginary concept. That is all.

Still, there is a little bit more to examine. What about the thinker? We have assumed not only that
thought is real and that it means something, but we have also inferred the existence of a thinker –
the one who thinks thought. And we have normally imagined that we are the thinker. So let's find
out if it's true.
Is there a thinker? Can you find the one to whom thoughts seem to occur? Is there anyone there?
Is there a center? Is there a point of reference?

There is no thinker.

There is only this.

 Seeing
back to top

Most of us imagine that seeing is a process that involves a seer and the objects of seeing. In other
words, we normally imagine that we (the seer) see stuff “out there.” And it is rare that we
examine these assumptions. Yet when we start to take a look, everything that we took for truth
may start to dissolve, leaving us with nothing to stand on and with no one to stand.

To start off this exploration, let's do something that may seem rather odd. In order to explore
seeing, close your eyes. And with eyes closed, is seeing still happening? Normally, we believe
that seeing requires colors, shapes, textures, and movement. But is that true? With eyes closed, is
not seeing still happening?

With eyes still closed, does seeing require distance or space? Or is there simply seeing? Is there a
center from which seeing is happening? Or is there simply seeing?

Next, open your eyes. With eyes opened, what changes? Is seeing fundamentally impacted by
whatever seems to change?

With eyes open and without consulting concepts, is there any distance or space? It is tempting, of
course, to answer that there is distance and there is space. But seeing does not prove that there is
distance of space. In fact, distance and space are purely conceptual.

With eyes open, is there a location to the seeing? Normally we assume that seeing is happening
“in here” or “from here.” But is there any proof that is so? Or is there simply seeing happening?

Now, hold your hand up and look at it. Is there something hidden from view behind your hand?
Don't consult concepts for an answer. Explore this with curiosity. Is there any non-conceptual
proof that there is something hidden from view behind your hand?

Still looking at your hand, can you find any proof that what you are looking at is a hand or that it
is yours? There is seeing happening, and there is what we might call the content of seeing (the
hand), which is actually inseparable from the seeing. And in actuality, seeing (which includes
content of seeing) is completely without meaning. The supposed meaning is conceptual. Without
concept there is no hand. There is just seeing.

Next, can you find a seer? Is there someone who is seeing? We normally assume that there is a
seer and that we are the seer. But without concept, is there a findable thing that does the seeing?
Or is it simply that seeing is happening?

Often at this point, people will wonder, “Well, then who is doing the seeing?” We are so
accustomed to assuming that every quality of aliveness (seeing, hearing, tasting, thinking, doing,
experiencing, etc.) must have a source or a reference point. We believe that seeing necessitates a
seer. But in actuality, there is no proof that a seer is necessary and neither is any seer findable. So
in actual experience all that is happening is seeing, which is seamless and boundless.
 Hearing
back to top

Hearing, like seeing, has no inherent meaning, nor does it require space or distance. Hearing is
just pure hearing, and it is boundless and centerless. In the fol lowing exploration, we'll
investigate hearing.

To begin with, close your eyes. Listen for whatever sounds occur. Where are the sounds
happening? Are they happening “out there” or “over there?” We normally conceptualize hearing
and imagine that distance and space is involved. Yet with eyes closed, is there any proof that
distance or space is involved?

With eyes still closed, can you find a center for listening? Is there a source? Or is hearing or
listening happening without a center?

Next, open your eyes. Does opening the eyes change hearing in any essential way? Does opening
the eyes actually inject distance or space? Is there now a center? Or is hearing still happening
without distance, space, or center?

Now, imagine a sound so that you can hear it with your “inner ear.” You may want to remember
a classic line from a movie you have watched. Or perhaps one of your favorite recordings of
music. Or you can make up something entirely. But imagine it as if you can really hear it.

Is there fundamentally a difference between hearing an imagined sound and hearing a “real”
sound? It is tempting to answer yes. But without concepts, can you actually pinpoint a
difference? Is it possible that any difference is merely conceptual, whereas the actuality of
hearing is always changeless?

Finally, can you find the one who hears? Like everything else, we normally assume that hearing
requires someone who hears. But when you look, can you find that one? Or is there only the
hearing, which is a synonym for aliveness?
 Feeling
back to top

During the waking state, physical sensations are happening much of the time. Some of them we
like, while others we don't like. For example, most of us like the sensations of a warm bath ,
while most of us dislike the sensations of getting punched in the face.

There is nothing wrong with sensations, of course. But when we imagine that sensations mean
something and that they are ours, we tend to suffer. So in the following explorations, we'll
investigate the nature of sensations.

To begin with, use one finger to gently stroke your skin – for example, the skin of the opposite
forearm. Do so in a way that is (hopefully) pleasant and enjoyable. Take a moment to really feel
the sensation without consulting memory or concept. Without comparing the sensation to any
idea, what is the actual experience? Is it possible to conceptualize? Is it possible to capture the
experience with a label?

Now, what is the best label that you can come up with to describe the sensation? Whatev er the
word, say that word out loud. Is the word itself the same as the sensation?

Can you recall another time when you felt a similar sensation? Is the actuality of the sensation
really the same as the sensation you are recalling? Is it even possible to know?

You may notice that oftentimes, even without knowing that we're doing it, we conceptualize
sensation. Instead of remaining with the simplicity and rawness of the pure sensation, we
imagine that it is possible to know or understand the sensation by giving it a name or comparing
it with some memory. But when you explore, what do you find? Is it possible to know or
understand a sensation?

Here's another way to look at it – still stroking the skin gently, can you find a division between
you and the pure sensation? Where does the sensation exist? Does it have a location? And if so,
what is your proof? Without concept, is it possible to know that something has a location?

Does the sensation have a size? Can you find the limits of it? Can you find the beginning and the
end of it?

Is there a center or source to sensation? Does sensation reference anything or anyone? Can you
find the one who experiences sensation? Is there actually anything findable?

Finally, when we tell the truth, there is no experiencer. There is no distance. There is no space.
There is nothing with which to compare anything. There is only the rawness and unboundedness
of what is.
 Relationships
back to top

Normally when we speak of relationships, we imagine that we are speaking of two or more. The
very concept of relationship seems to reinforce duality. In fact, Merriam-Webster defines
relationship as “the way in which two or more people or things are connected.” And yet, when
we truly investigate the nature of relationship, we may be surprised to find that it points to the
essential emptiness/aliveness that has no divisions.

Right now, consider one human with whom you have a relationship. This can be anyone. Living.
Dead. Near. Far. It can be your lover or your neighbor or anyone at all. Does the relationship
exist in space? Does it have a size? Can you find any boundaries to it?

Does the relationship exist in time? Does the relationship have a beginning and an end? It may
be tempting to believe that it does. However, when you explore these questions without concepts,
what do you find?

Next, share the same space with someone or something else with whom you have a relationship.
It could be another human, a dog, a cat, or a coffeemaker, so long as it is possible for you to have
some sense of a relationship.

Begin by standing close to the “other.” While in close proximity, can you perceive the
relationship?

Next, move further away from the “other.” What impact, if any, does the distance or space have
on the relationship?

Now, go into another room or space so that you cannot see the “other.” Does this have any
impact on the relationship?

Again, share the same space as the “other” so that you can see him, her, or it. Where is the
“other?” Is there space or distance between you and the “other?”

Finally, can you find a reference point for the relationship? Is there a center? Is there someone
who is relating? Is there a findable separate self?
 No End, No Attainment
back to top

When I used to imagine that I would awaken to some greater, better reality, I had all kinds of
unexamined and unfounded beliefs about what that experience would be like. Yet all those
beliefs were wrong. Because the simplicity of what is, is beyond and before belief. The
simplicity of what is, is not a greater, better reality. It is simply this.

The only difference between “then” and “now” is the complete collapse of any “then” and
“now,” or any separate individual to whom all of this is happening – a separate self that never
was. But that is not an attainment. Nor is it an arrival. There is no one to attain anything and
there is no one to arrive.

Nothing changed. This experience right now is not not it. This, right now, exactly as it is, already
is it.

Have you noticed that there is no end? Have you found an end? Have you ever arrived? Have
you ever reached a final destination and then life stops?

Of course, not. Because there is no such thing. There is no thing. There is no time, no space, no
center, no movement, no experiencer. There is no beginning and no end. There is only this right
now as it is.

Awakening to the simplicity of being isn’t about an end or an attainment. It is not about arriving
somewhere and then life stops. It is exactly this as it already is. There is nothing else. There is no
one separate from this.

Notice that the search for an end or an arrival is merely a phenomenon happening right now.
What does it reference? Can you find it? And whose experience is it? Can you find that person?

At some point, you catch a glimpse of the simplicity of being. Except that in this seeing there is
no you. That is the seeing – just seeing without a seer.

All that can be imagined is only imagination, which is only ever just undifferentiated non -stuff
happening right now. It is not about anything. It doesn't reference anything. And there is no one
at the center of it. There is no one who imagines.

When it is imagined and believed that there is someone at the center of it all, then the separate
self seems to need defending. That is suffering. It gives rise to all kinds of efforting, strategizing,
and worrying. Yet with simple investigation done with the curiosity of a newborn infant, it is
possible to see that nothing that was imagined is actually real. It was only smoke and mirrors.

What is here, what is beyond doubt, does not need belief. It is simply aliveness, which cannot be
understood or conceptualized. Aliveness is without bounds or center. It is substanceless. It is
without time or space. Aliveness is the immediacy of what is perfectly obvious without labels or
reference. There is no one who is alive. There is only aliveness.

When doubt arises, it is an invitation to explore with innocent curiosity. Give up all attempts to
understand or figure out. Make no effort to solve anything. Merely investigate the true nature of
what is. Allow the investigation to be endless. Allow the curiosity to be all-consuming. Discover
unconditional peace always right now.