I have moments where familiar phenomena disintegrate – fall into their components.

I was reminded of this when I did a sitting period with music, referred to in a previous post. The music was no longer music – there was no rhythm, no melody, no continuity – only the separate components arising and dissolving here/now. The music disintegrated into components existing by themselves. I realized that my whole experience of music, all my enjoyment of it, the sense of rhythm, continuity, melody, fluidity between harmony and disharmony, the expected and unexpected – is made by this mind. It is an illusion in a certain sense. It is not there. It is quite sobering.

And this morning, I experienced the same with the wood stove. There was no wood stove, only the component – wood, fire, enclosed, in a wider enclosure, supporting the life of this particular organism, and all of these in turn has no individual existence but is made of up components, as an endless set of Russian dolls.

This is another aspect of emptiness.

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