Tuesday, January 28, 2025
You are a leading edge that feels imminent. Imminent means that something is just about to occur. I feel on the verge, but I never arrive. Constant verging is truth. Verging is to approach (something) closely; be close or similar to (something). There’s a feeling of anticipation, and a feeling of participation.
What we call participation feels like the past, for when you finally notice, it’s the former. But imminence is where we feel the edge, and this is the space which allows us to motivate ourselves, push ourselves, and ultimately relish in eternal transcendence.
Have you ever wondered how we can know that we know, or that we can be aware that we are aware? These ideations are like nesting dolls that seem to have no end. Concepts upon concepts seem to keep us from the verge. Verging becomes merging or melding in a wordless space few ever fall into. For if you fall into that space of imminence, you disappear, and you lose yourself in the loving gap of the unconditional.
I wish I could tell you what that leading edge was, but I know you’ve experienced it. You’ve lost yourself in exhilarating performance. You’ve vanished behind the veil of absolute focus on something difficult and engaging, and you have been lost in wonder, love, and profundity. The more often the individual self disappears, the more one wishes to live on the anticipatory verge of absolute astonishment. This seems to be the only safe place in the world. It seems to be the preeminence of truth. It seems to be who we fundamentally are, but cannot name.
Either you fear imminence or you are imminent. Tip the scale from fear to excitement by exploring the verge. If you’re on the verge of catastrophe, you’re exploring the same place as the most high imminence. The verger leads. The participant follows.