Empty Fullness

So.
If focusing on the Tao's meaning doesn't serve
And being in my head doesn't serve
And if the Tao doesn't exist
But is also Truth
How am I supposed to do this work today?
Breathe, breathe. Meditate. Trust what comes up.

Relaxing, going down into my body.
Imagery comes.

I am a kindergarten teacher, sitting on a short-legged stool in front of a classroom of children who are on the floor in front of me. They attentively await the reading of a book I have in my hands.
The sense is that each child represents a part of my body. Every one has ears, mouth, and all the requisite parts to fully hear and participate in responding to what is being expressed. So, it looks like my brain gets to be a part of this experience anyway; it simply doesn't get exclusive rights for response to all input, like it usually does.

The teacher begins to read.
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Verse 4

The Tao is like an empty container:
it can never be emptied and can never be filled.
Infinitely deep, it is the source of all things.
It dulls the sharp, unties the knotted,
shades the lighted, and unites all of creation with dust.

It is hidden but always present.
I don't know who gave birth to it.
It is older than the concept of God.
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(Uniting all creation with dust??)

My next meditative breath takes me down, down a long tube, kind of like the ones you ride at a water park. The sensation is exhilarating, fun and safe safe safe. I finally come out, not into water, but into space, floating above a landscape lightened by the setting sun. My body gently glides into the openness, tingly, present, really here, glowing. Radiating. Floating.

I bask in the warm comfort of this place. Here, somehow, the concepts that baffled me in the other world now make sense: Everything Matters/Nothing Matters; Hidden yet Present; Understanding=Being Clueless. This rich awareness floats free in the cavernous space with me.

Cavern. Cave. The old residence. My previous cave was dank, constricted, coldly insulated from life. This space is expansive, serene, so warm, so comforting, so....everything.

I hear giggling. Somewhere there are children playing and laughing whom I can't see, and I can't reach. My heart yearns to be with them, to know what it feels like to giggle, to remember how to play. A realization comes to me that in this work I have come closer to fulfilling this desire. Gratitude deeply moves me.

I continue to float, in studied bliss. Not joyous bliss, but with inner peace, swimming in the Tao's empty fullness essence.