Egos meet and remain separate but open, aware minds share presence.
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As Beckett was exquisitely aware, all language fails attempting to capture the formless absolute.
Enlightenment, awakening, recognition, realisation, whatever, is not an answer, has no answers because it precedes all questions making the very notion of question/ answer redundant.
Deconstructing the self automatically opens us to boundless possibilities.
Myriad holograms of meaning come and go, arise and fade away over and over and over and yet the ungraspable openness in which this occurs is always present.
No arrival, no conclusion, no ending, just perpetual freshness and unknowing.
This includes us but is not about us.
The illusion of a spiritual journey is just more hinderance, more occlusion of the infinite ground which is always right here, right now.
Thisness 