„Worrying about death is like worrying about what will happen to us if we fall off the edge of the flat earth. The problem is imaginary. What dies? What is born?“ Joan Tollifson
Which problem is not imaginary?
Are there real problems and who is having them?
What really exists?
Life is a paradox. You may laugh or cry on that. Or both. Or not.
It is all inclusive. Big and small and beyond both. Everything which equals to nothing.
So, the gate is gateless. But you don’t know that until you pass through.
Than there seems to be no gate. Even if there would be it wouldn’t matter as there would be no one to pass through.
And there isn’t just one gate. There are many bigger and smaller gateless gates. Going through feels like dying.
“Dying to the past. Dying to the known. Dying to all your thoughts, ideas and beliefs. Dying to who and what you think you are. Dying to all hope of something better. Dying to everything. Letting go of every attempt to hold on. Losing everything that can be lost and discovering what remains.” Joan Tollifson
Does the reflection of the sun or tree exist? Yes.
But is it tree or sun? No. It is just reflection of something real, alive, radiating. Which might be also reflection of something “more” real and alive. It might be endless, or not. Or both.
So we are.