When we really look, inquire and rigorously interrogate our experience with the utmost honesty and sensitivity can we really find any thing(s) at all, anywhere to land, anything that can be named, labelled, described or otherwise defined?
Iām a support worker in adult social care with an open-ended curiosity in the nature of mind.
Thisness is a stupid made up word to point to the quality of the present moment however it is.
When we really look, inquire and rigorously interrogate our experience with the utmost honesty and sensitivity can we really find any thing(s) at all, anywhere to land, anything that can be named, labelled, described or otherwise defined?