Without thought, there is no separation between subject and object. If I am looking at a tree and the sense of “I” disappears, what remains is immediate, spacious, indefinable. The seer and the seen dissolve into seeing.
Would you rather have a 5° view of life or a 360° view? Would you rather see everything through a tiny peephole or see it in its entirety, as it really is? That limited view or peephole is the sense of I—the individual self—which is, perhaps surprisingly, a complete fabrication.
To see, hear, touch, smell, feel, without thinking, preferencing, story making, this is the wellspring, endless refreshment, true communion.
Even the most sublime thoughts are contained within a severely limiting and thus incomplete and distorting construct.
Christ is a thought. God is a thought as well. This is why at some point in the journey, they must both be left behind. No thought survives the transformation, the awakening.
The “eye of the needle,” as Christ says, is very narrow. No thought and no self can go through it.
The greatest irony is that the self does not survive awakening. What awakens is a mystery. To name it, to build a system of thought around it, is to reduce it to another, always self-propelling, story.
