How can I follow the path of emptiness?
If I ride my bike down the cycle path from Bull Beck
my aim is to steer into emptiness
and avoid any entanglements with the world of form.
The cycle path keeps clear of trees and hedges
but I have to stay alert to avoid walkers and their dogs
and the occasional car crossing the path.
The world of form is not fixed but shifts, always.
Riding a bike is an exercise in mindfulness.
If I allow myself to be distracted by the beauty of the Lune
running alongside the path, I may crash.
The world of form encountered at speed is painful.
I need to be aware enough of the world of form
so that I can see the gaps in it
and steer my course of emptiness through them.
If I’m too hung up on the world of form, I’ll get stuck there.
At Denny Beck I focus on the narrow gap between the posts.
If I concentrate on the posts I’m more likely to hit them.
A few miles further on at Glasson I reach the sea
where the world of form shifts again to become fluid, uniform.
In the distance sky and sea seem to merge: they are not two.
The cycle path is over, and my bicycle does not float, but it’s OK:
the path of emptiness is always empty of a destination.