The hub of the wheel is the one thing to reach, the motionless depth of yourself. That alone is the true cave (guha) that alone gives to the guha of rock the marvelous solitude, which it radiates like a mirror.

At dawn, I get out of bed, walk carefully across creaking floor boards so as not to wake my family, and sit on a cushion in the living room. I close my eyes and focus on my breath, counting each exhalation until I reach four and then starting over again at one.

I am a transparency, thousands of dragonfly wings stacked five feet high, that’s all! And so it continues, until one day, the traveler, the path, the journey, and all the sights disappear, and somewhere a fruit never seen by human eyes falls ripely into its own mouth.