Never settle
The moment you try to pin this down, it slips away. Every definition creates the very wall that blocks recognition. That's not a problem - it's actually the key to understanding how this works.
When we first encounter this, we naturally try to fit it into what we already know. We gather descriptions, collect concepts, build frameworks. "Ah, now I've got it!" we think, adding another definition to our spiritual vocabulary. But each new word, each clever explanation, just creates another barrier to seeing what's here.
It's tempting to land on a satisfying description. Call it "awareness" or "presence" or "being." Label it as "emptiness" or "oneness" or "the absolute." Each term feels like it captures something essential. But the moment we settle on any description, we've missed it again. We're looking at the map instead of the territory.
This can be frustrating if you're used to learning through definitions and categories. Our whole education trains us to understand things by naming and explaining them. But this requires a different approach - one of constant openness, of refusing to settle on any fixed understanding.
Even useful pointers can become traps. Spiritual teachers often forget this, turning helpful descriptions into rigid systems of belief. What started as a finger pointing to the moon becomes a detailed map that everyone must follow. But no map, no matter how sophisticated, is the actual territory.
This isn't about abandoning understanding altogether. The mind naturally seeks to comprehend, and that's fine. But hold every understanding lightly, like stepping stones rather than foundations. Use concepts as tools, not truths. The moment you think you've figured it all out is exactly when you need to let go and look fresh.
What we're pointing to is already here, before any explanation or understanding arises. It's not hidden behind the right concept or the perfect description. It's in the simple, obvious presence that precedes all our attempts to grasp it.
The nature of what we're pointing to has this peculiar quality - like catching something in the midst of dissolving. Not quite here, not quite gone. It's as if you're witnessing a continuous vanishing that never completes. Every time you look, it's in this state of slipping away, yet somehow always present. Not graspable, not absent - but dancing in between, in a space that mind can't quite reach.
So never settle. Stay open to what's here before words capture it. Let each understanding dissolve into fresh seeing. What remains isn't another concept to grasp, but the simple reality that was never missing in the first place.
