I move slowly and feel drawn to simply sit in meditation — eyes closed or open.
Just to sit there.
No wish, no want.
Rather, I stay drunk on this.
It feels like retreating into a different world, while sipping my tea.

Then I open one of the books I have on my shelf — the Rinzai Roku.
I read in it, then put it aside and close my eyes again.
Reading these kinds of words — poetic yet direct invitations — causes my heart to relax. It is as if someone is kissing my heart, but no one is there.

This is where the song of a zufi calling for home feels most immediate.
Rumi had a beautiful way of expressing this…

”Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance when you’re perfectly free.”

I notice my heart is longing.
I listen to sound and song.
Some strokes hit me, the others miss.
How come I can’t find it? How come it evades me?

Then there are moments where I find something that makes my heart feel alive and kissed. But then I need to keep going — somehow what I heard and what reached me is no longer there. But how is this possible? How come this is such a fleeting moment?

In some moments I think I might need to start playing music myself. Then when I hear different musicians playing the same instrument, it becomes clearer. It is not the instrument — but what happens between the player and the instrument.

Then I read the following line of the Rinzai Roku:

”17.b. Someone asked: “What kind of mental attitude is this that envelops me?”
The Master said: “The moment you ask this question, the covering already arises, and your essential nature becomes separated from your actions.
Followers of the Way, do not be deceived. Neither within nor outside this world is there anything that possesses its own self-nature, nor anything that gives birth to a self. Everything is nothing but empty names — and even the very letters that form these names are empty.
If you take these empty names to be real, you make a serious mistake. Although they exist, they belong to the realm of dependent arising and are like robes that can be put on or taken off.
There is the robe of awakening, the robe of nirvana, the robe of liberation, the robe of the Trikaya, the robe of wisdom, the robes of the bodhisattvas, and the robe of the Buddha.
What are you seeking in this realm of dependent arising? The Three Vehicles and the Twelve Divisions of the Teachings are nothing but old paper for wiping up filth. The Buddha is an illusory phantom. The patriarchs are just old monks.
Aren’t you yourselves born of a mother? If you seek the Buddha, you will be caught by the Buddha-Mara. If you seek the patriarchs, you will be bound by the patriarch-Mara.
Whatever you seek turns into suffering. It is far better to have nothing further to seek.”

Mara is the force of illusion and deception — whether understood as the Buddhist tempter that obstructs awakening, the Zoroastrian Druj (the Lie), or, in a Lacanian sense, the ego’s imaginary identifications that keep us trapped in seeking.

I closed the book.

The work this inquiry comes out of — practice, personal research, psychoanalysis and community — lives at www.turiyosho.net. The next retreat — Coming Back to Love — opens this September 2026 in the Peruvian Andes, co-led with Lesley Myburgh and Kannon.

— Turiyosho

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I tried to be someone that I’m not. I tried to be something — someone for other people. So I don’t know what I am. Who am I? Who am I if I stop trying to be someone? What if I stop trying to be someone I thought I had to be for my loved ones? What if I stop trying to be the successful son, the successor? What if I stop trying to be a CEO? If I stop trying to fill roles I project onto others? If I stop trying to be all these things, I only know one thing: that the only thing that remained is my search for truth. That’s the only thing that stayed always.

And I long for it.

This longing.

But it was covered up by my stories of trying to be someone I am not.

So I forgot.

A voice message I recorded for myself. Words or sentences like these just come out of the blue — which I value as insights. Walking into this dark…

No one — absolutely no one, no thing, no doctrine, no philosophy, no substance, no person, no community — “Nothing is going to save me.”

Nothing.

No one.

No place.

Nothing.

Then I sit here and open a page of Rumi’s quotes:

“God’s cooling mercy is stronger than the scorching heat of His wrath. God’s wrath is mighty, but when you tremble before Him, He is appeased. The countenance of Power is turned toward the hard-hearted; when you are humble, He shows you His mercy and goodness. Whoever is reduced to nothing cries wordlessly: ‘Guide me.’”

Guide me.

Only one step — that’s how far I can see.

Suddenly I remember.
There are chemicals in my body.
There is electricity in my body.
What happens in between?
What actually happens from neuron to neuron?
What happens in between?
What happens in the bardo?
What happens at the chinvat?

Is this what is meant when it is said:

“When you realize the nature of mind,
There is nothing to stand on and nothing to lean on.
Yet you continue to walk.” — Milarepa

?

The work this inquiry comes out of — practice, personal research, psychoanalysis and community — lives at www.turiyosho.net. The next retreat — Coming Back to Love — opens this September 2026 in the Peruvian Andes, co-led with Lesley Myburgh and Kannon.
— Turiyosho

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Sitting here i write. I write as i start to voice.
This voice is trying to convey something that comes out of the gap but takes time to translate into words - into language.

Again i am faced with the fact that i just want to write - for the sake of sharing my voice. But who is that voice? I dont know. I dont know what or who i am.

I start to see life - the raw nature of it.
I know my heart can bear it. I know.
Yet there is a deep sadness, a deep melancholy which is directly connected to this nothingness, the void, the abyss. When there will be an emergence out of it and the direction i still dont know.

I had a very telling dream recently which exemplified this state.
I am seeing feet - taking footsteps. These feet are barely covered - in sandals.
I look at these feet from the level of the feet and see the back of it - i am seeing how these feet, connected to a body is walking away from light that is visible in the back.
These feet walk into the darkness - as if walking into a tunnel - straight into the dark.

I am entering the bardo more and more.
I dont know where i am going, what is there in the dark yet the light in the back, the entrance of where these feet came from give me warmth. As if i know i will be carrying that light into the dark.

Before i was writing about the dark, the thing, the closeness to something i dont know.
I cant avoid it - not anymore. It seems it is about time i am walking into the dark.

By writing i am making an effort to document what is happening.

I dont know what friendship is and who are my friends.
I dont know who my real friends are.
Who are the people that are truly real?
What does it mean to relate? What is a relationship?
What is it that really matters?
Again - i dont know.

Where am i going? I cant see anything in front of me - i can only make my steps day by day. I am alone. There is no one except me.

Yes i talk, i eat, i walk, i sleep and do.
Thats all i witness.

I put my Headphones on - put on a track and hear the music.
All i see starts to become empty. I look at the street, at the cars driving.
I see the people walking, entering and leaving the train.
I walk, i breathe, i hear yet it is as if i am not of this place.
Everything becomes something i observe.

Suddenly i speak - and the moment i speak i start to feel the effects of my own words.
My own words seem to matter in some kind of way.
As do my actions.

I can feel bliss, and ecstacy.
I can dance.
I can dance with all of this and suddenly some kind of peace appears.
But who is it for? What or why is there peace?

I move to the music and once it ends - i go into silence.
There is something in there that creates a certain kind of peace.
Like sitting by the water, and just observing its flow and sound.
Having a soft vision i just see what is in front of me.
Nothing else.

I tried for so long time to make sense of things and it is as if that was the dead end all along. All this effort to understand - nothing works - in the end i am still faced with all of it. So why the effort? Where am i going?

I just remember - the last article ended with a sentence “something is knocking on the door”. Whatever it is - and whatever direction it was meant to - is walking.

Out of all the places i could write - i do it here.
And yes - some things i do not write. These things are for my journal and pen.

I am done with looking outside.
There is nowhere to look.

But i do like listening to music.
I do like sitting in silence.
I do like dancing.

There is no arrival - i don’t know if there will every be - i don’t know if there ever was something like an arrival.

The tears that come - even those i cant explain fully.
Even if i try - in essence - i am only guessing.
Holding myself, feeling those tears i notice my heart softens.

That i like.
A soft, open Heart.

Yet.
There is no arrival.
It rather seems like a temporary visit.
The more i walk, the more i feel like a nomad - a wanderer.
There is a sense of being alone.
A fundamental one.
And the hope of arriving somewhere becomes one of the great lies i have been told.
The reliance itself is a hoax.

The work this inquiry comes out of — practice, personal research, psychoanalysis and community — lives at www.turiyosho.net. The next retreat — Coming Back to Love — opens this September 2026 in the Peruvian Andes, co-led with Lesley Myburgh and Kannon.

— Turiyosho

Warmth in the night, clarity in the fight.
Who knows what is right?

The mountains or the rivers?
Is it wet or stonecold?

Who guides me - knowing i will pass?
Is it me or ist you? Who will guide who?

Well - let me warm your tea and give you a clue.

There is a difference that opens up when i can stay with difference.
This “Or” i mentioned in the last article - is a door opener.
Sitting in the mountains, looking down and far, seeing the horizon i will be faced with the cold. I know this - sometimes even in the broad daylight - but for sure in the night.

This thing we discovered - fire has been THE great problemsolver. From cooking water, to providing warmth, light and the stories the crackling of the burning wood is telling us. The mountains are rigorous - they do not give in - they demand you to be aware of your steps. They demand you choose rightly - there is not much space to play. They demand you to learn - there is not much around.

The rivers - are full of green, full of aliveness - here you are forced to be aware and awake of different faculties. But Fire - although the same - has a different significance in the rivers than in the mountains.

Here again - we are faced with the “Or” of altitude. A difference, different circumstances, different constrains.

Can i respond here from the gap again? How do i go on with writing while keeping the gap? The moment i write about the gap something appears. But this something is a sort of nothing. It is without a direction.

What is this something? I do wonder what the reader does with these words. This gap leads no-where. And no - i won’t use now-here. No-where because the direction of thought is being halted. Yes i do write but the direction remains open. I do keep the “difference” “halted”. Does it make a difference for the fire in the mountains and valleys?

Can i relate this gap towards the topic started? Maybe it is a kind of supposed zero-point to proceed writing from.

This Gap resembles more a place of void and abyss. It can feel nihilistic in itself - no direction. Is this numbness? lethargy? ignorance? There are things i could do - but as i dont think about them and do not make an effort to be aware - i wont. And there is no drive for anything. Is this “Das Ding / The thing” as Freud calls it? The vicinity to it is nothing less. Lots of anger, the wish to be antisocial, retreat, not be bothered about other people and especially their demands and wishes. A big fuck you all.

Again - is this the gap? Cant be - i suppose it is something else - something i am touching or being exposed to which i can not articulate correctly. Different points of tension, incongruencies that are not possible to be in relation. There is a negation at work - and the tension i talk about is the one between. It seems to be a different way of experiencing “OR” - or dare i say the bardo/chinwat. But as it is not neutral - it is filled with different streams of tensions - which are experienced as impossible to be solved. The reason why they stay is unclear - hence there is an ignorance at this place.
Is a choice really possible to be made here?

I wake up and suddenly am confronted with these tensions. After making a coffee i want to retreat again.

My idea in this post was to write about fire but i cant go there. I cant write about fire and its significance. Right now its a sort of lie - something i am making up to look good, wise, knowledgable. And this sort of behavior has absolute zero benefit to no one. Except - Actors - they will say something to portray the theater of the thing but do not reach the being of it and thats not the point of it. The point is for them to get as close as possible so people can relate to the image they portray.

A Ritual done properly does something very similar - and the line between theater and being the thing are very blurred here. A long time ago that was the actual purpose of theater - to expose dynamics at hand. What is left of this intelligent method today?

The Gap, it seems, has no direction at first. Staying with it will reveal the direction. Now what happens when the gap exposes material to oneself that is triggering, difficult to digest and suddenly the perception of ones own experience becomes difficult? What happens when suddenly one notices one can not function as used to? What if you suddenly are confronted with noticing that the pro-ject itself dissapeared? You are bombared with a variety of thoughts, images and disregulations in your day to day experience with no end in sight? There is a truth emerging that is more close to a chaotic environment. Even trying to frame it is rather difficult as it rather feels and thinks messy. Suddenly the direction, as started in this paragraph is all over the place. Lacan framed a vicinity to this kind of content - dating back to freud’s ideas - “The Thing” - which is quite an interesting field to touch upon. Uncomfortable, similiar in qualities to psychosis and can lead to psychosis as well.

e thing. There is no, absolutley zero guarentee for the experience and vicinity towards the thing to bear any fruits. And again - both views do work together. The question is rather what one does with the experience of the thing - if one is capable to produce new information out of this. It may be one of the most brutal ways of gaining a view upon ones own pieces of truth. It can be liberating in a specific way - it can be disturbing. And most definetly it will be both. For some reason this kind of confrontation does something.

Now i am drawn back to the idea of “Or” - the bardo / chinwat bridge. The space before a gate is opened - a direction is chosen. What is exactly happening here? This piece is exploring “the thing” - as it appeared in and around my writing in my life. I did not have a choice about being confronted with its dreadfullness and dark ambience. I noticed i had to sit through it - to walk with it and

Just writing about it creates discomfort - the andean cosmology has a different word for this “Ukhu Pacha” - the lower world/realm. While the indigeneous conception of this realm(s) have always a purpose - lacan’s “thing” is just that least make sure i don’t cause havoc to others and myself. It is quite interesting as - the moment i write - the thing is knocking on my door.

The work this inquiry comes out of — practice, personal research, psychoanalysis and community — lives at www.turiyosho.net. The next retreat — Coming Back to Love — opens this September 2026 in the Peruvian Andes, co-led with Lesley Myburgh and Kannon.

— Turiyosho

How do i write to convey the inquiry or invitation at hand? How do i use words knowing that there is a certain gap, a certain kind of impossibility of putting the actual thing into words?

Writing in that gap, where words become, where they get a meaning. “get a meaning” means something i seem to give those words — by the mere choice of them, maybe trying to describe something around it that tries to allude to the very thing. Daena / Meditation seems to create a certain atmosphere, a time-space / space-time that allows for certain lines of thought to emerge. These thoughts — when ripe enough — become speech and fruition into action. This trajectory is influenced by the Gathic-Mazdayasni triad of “Humata, Hukhta & Hvarshta” — meaning “Good Thoughts, Good Speech and Good Deeds”. Now speech is some kind of space in between. It may be a translating agent from what got clarified into words. Knowing these words, “Knowing my mind” will need to imply a certain directionality upon which i may express an act.

So here we are — writing words — keeping the gap. Why should i keep the gap? The gap — something is there that strips me of a direction. Yet the very fact that i chose to write implies i want to convey something. But how to convey? How is conveying being received? How is the very thing i write actually possible to be understood? I may need to remain as simple as possible and again…

If i aim towards opening a dialogue, i need to make myself empty. I again need to retreat towards something that is undefined — in order for new definitions to come. Definitions, connections, patterns, systems, relations…

—

A different gap appeared — i went for a walk to catch up with my children in the rain. Now, coming back to the screen, i noticed how much the written words were circulating in my brain. Discussions, arguments, ideas — just because i pushed the rock to roll.

Coming to this kind of gap — a supposed zero point — where formulations and words appear from, still requires a choice. A choice in words that keeps unwinding in directions. How do i refrain from going somewhere, yet there is a kind of intention? What does it do? Is my “(in)tension” affecting my “(a)tension”, or is my “(a)tension” affecting my “(in)tension”?

Different doors to the same room. As i am writing, i make an effort to stay alert to the in-tension of the writing — of writing in and from the gap. This is my a-tension. Yet the a-tension allows me to highlight if i am on “course” with my in-tension. So what is this gap?

In a dialog with Andrew Sweeney, Tim Pickeril, Alexander Bard and me at the Parallax Podcast, i used Bard’s categories of nihilism to explain differences in the topic at hand. Ironic nihilism is the term that comes closest to the gap and the in-tension of this writing piece. How do i write here? Is it even possible? Or is this article rather affirmative nihilistic?

The gap is the tension itself that informs my in-tension and a-tension. I can create value and meaning from there — but in there is nothing. Naked pure potential — no direction BUT the capacity for direction.

—

In the re-emergence of the brilliant “Sweeney vs Bard” series, the topic of ironic nihilism becomes an important pillar again. My in-tension — the pressing issue — is that i keep writing for the sake of affirmation, of the realm of affirmative nihilism. Many of the old traditions that truly endeavor to go to the root of the mind have something in common that points to that exact same in-tension.

A certain preparation. Prepare for what? What happens if you are faced with the blank nothingness, meaninglessness and void? What are you going to do with it? Madness is not far from this place — it actually goes together. But what if the right preparation makes it clear that once you hit that rock bottom, choices need to be made?

Vajrayana talks about the bardos — the intermediary states in practice — closer to the “gap”. Mazdayasna uses the word Chinvat — best described as a bridge, a threshold crossing.

While both traditions use different angles, Vajrayana stays more in ironic nihilism in its description of the bardo. It just states the fact of the gap’s existence — it stays with the recognition. Mazdayasna goes a different direction and says — in that gap understanding will appear, one of them will be of benefit, the other will not — it stays with the action/outcome. Vajrayana sits closer to non-positional recognition; Mazdayasna sits closer to directional affirmation. The two approaches do not contradict each other — they exist in the same time.

Exactly this little word “time” is such an obvious and yet ambiguous thing. The Sun goes up and down. The Moon goes up and down. Seasons change, the body changes, things grow and things die. If we keep things as such — only change exists — and maybe this is something quite challenging to grasp. Nothing needs addition — it is going to change anyway. Now this is exactly the place of choice — the same place that is being touched upon in a bardo / daena / chinwat. Knowing this, it can get quite uncomfortable being at odds with existence, OR you realize you have a part to play that might actually be beneficial to yours and other existences.

This OR is quite a special place. It is the exact expression of the potential — maybe the OR is even the hint towards a possibility outside of forms of nihilism that are destructive. What is this OR? First off — it is an expression of inquiry — that the research, the inquiry, the being-in-question is working. It reminds me of the Vajrayana practice called “chöd”, which can be translated as “cutting through” — with the in-tension to create the gap, to expose the “OR” in the practitioner.

Still, it requires that this “OR” is being met — the one pursuing the inquiry actually listens towards the openings — opens their ears to the question that is silent by nature.

Now to my writing:

it belongs to the friends and the networks I am part of, where this conversation already moves. You know who you are, my fellow madmen. And of course hello to the rest!

One note before I close. This piece, first, is fun. Secondly it is the first.

The work this inquiry comes out of — practice, personal research, psychoanalysis and community — lives at www.turiyosho.net. The next retreat — Coming Back to Love — opens this September 2026 in the Peruvian Andes, co-led with Lesley Myburgh and Kannon.

— Turiyosho

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