Read time 11 minutes. The final article in the series regarding a new model of reality.
A shift is here. We’ve been exploring a new way of seeing reality, and today’s lesson marks a turning point. It’s a bridge between the old perspective and the new one. This article itself is highly emblematic of that shift.
From here on out, the way we speak, teach, and even see will begin to loosen. Bit by bit. Post by post.
This is a kind of reset. Fair warning: this article goes deep. It’s ambitious. It’s dense. But here’s the flip side: everything you need is here. Don’t worry about absorbing it all at once—just take it in. Maybe someday you will be ready to come back to it. It will be here waiting for you.
Let’s begin:
The illusion of the line
Let’s revisit the old model, which sees reality as split between two distinct realms: the formless and the formed, the spiritual and the material. Some even view this, very literally, as a life-or-death situation.
In the old model, energy, Tao, or some source is thought to flow from a pure, transcendent place into the world of form, where it becomes trapped or distorted into reality as we experience it. Awakening, then, is imagined as a kind of return—a reversal of this process, whereby we must be liberated and brought back to that origin. This model treats separation as real and implies a linear journey from ignorance to enlightenment.
This model served a purpose. It was clear, easy to follow, and—for a time—deeply useful. But now we have to let it go. Not because it’s wrong in the traditional sense, but because it contains an error subtle enough to go unnoticed and powerful enough to undermine everything else:
It imagines a dividing line.
The line in question is the one between what’s often referred to as the transcendent and the manifest—between “what is beyond form” and “what appears within it.”
Outsized ego
In the old model, ego sits right on that line. It’s portrayed as the filter between raw awareness and constructed reality. This helped us understand how ego colors perception. But there’s a problem:
By putting ego at the edge between formless and form, we accidentally give it authority it never had.
We imply that ego is special. Unique. A bottleneck or hinge point in the structure of reality. And that’s where the model starts to unravel. Because now ego becomes indispensable. It’s treated as the thing that determines whether or not reality appears distorted. It’s still “the problem”—but it’s become the central problem.
In truth, ego is not special.
It is not a threshold.
It’s just another momentary distortion in a sea of shifting forms.
To understand this more fully, we need a better model.
So now we must abandon our oversimplified model of reality. For our model to be accurate, there can be no special exceptions. Ego is just another duality amidst a sea of dualities.
But here’s the thing:
So is Tao.
So is awakening.
Even the concepts of life and death must be abandoned.
We must choose our words very carefully, lest they misguide us.
Starting over: The new model of reality
The teachings have never wavered: there is no true separation between the “source” of reality and the forms that arise within it. Our model of reality must reflect this. What we experience is not a descent from one realm into another.
What appears to us as existence is just awareness reflecting itself—because form itself is a phase. A pulse. A rhythm. This is not mere poetic whimsy. As we will see, the teachings very clearly point to this fact. There is a reason why they are constantly preaching acceptance, balance, and harmony.
Before we get to that, let’s take a quick moment to review the recent lessons.
In this new model:
~Ego is not a fixed identity.
It’s a feedback loop—awareness misreading itself as a self.
(See “The Illusion of Self” and “Echoes Without a Cause”)
~Duality is not a core structure.
It’s just a contrast—like inhale and exhale—two parts of a single breath.
(See “More Than Two”)
~Awakening is not an achievement or a destination.
It’s the felt realization that there is nowhere to go and nothing to obtain.
(See “The Origin of Self-Awareness” and “From Clarity to Conflict”)
All of this means there is no threshold to cross, no other side to return to. The underlying energy of creation never actually “leaves” the Tao because it was never outside of it to begin with.
There is no exile.
There is no return.
The whole system breathes. And you are one of its rhythms.
Emulating tao
Understanding Tao begins by emulating it. But this teaching takes it a step further. This is more than an idea—it’s an alignment. It ends dissonance not by explaining Tao, but by syncing with its rhythm.
The question is not: what does our new model of reality imply?
The question is: what does our new model of reality undo?
In fact, we see that the word understanding now fails us. Our understanding needs to transform into harmonizing. Knowledge stands apart. Harmony joins the flow.
If you want to get down, you don’t seek to understand music. You vibe with it. There is only rhythm, oscillation—alternation without anchor.
We now see where the phrase “traits of Tao” fails us as well. This teaching shows us that acceptance, impermanence, and balance are not traits of Tao—they are Tao itself.
“The Tao that can be named is not the eternal Tao.” That is because Tao is not a noun. And neither are you.
Let’s say it from another angle:
The structure that makes “self” and “thingness” possible is itself impermanent. We’ve mistaken impermanence as something that happens to us, when in fact, it is us.
Into the void
Consider this: while it may be hard to accept, there are no beginnings and endings. Our new model allows for no exceptions—not even for this seemingly necessary division.
Yet there is an upside to this.
If there was never a moment when Tao “came into being,” how can it be said to exist?
The answer: it doesn’t—because it isn’t a thing.
This whole thing is not a thing.
We’re not in a universe—we’re in a happening.
A happening unfolds.
There is a counterpoint—a counter-pulse—to reality as we experience it. It can best be described as a void. Our new model of reality suggests that ego is an illusion that arises as a result of awareness misreading itself and its situation. (Yep, you’re just going through a phase.)
Therefore, one might say that the void is not the absence of self, but rather the absence of misreading.
But here’s the thing:
The void is the absence of self.
But it is the absence of all constructs—all ideas.
So it is the absence of the self, misreading, and anything else you can imagine.
A new model of reality: No labels, no division
The new model reveals the deep level to which all labels are useless. The labels of good and bad, me and them—even the labels of life and death.
These are all temporary conditions, like weather systems spinning across a sky that does not move.
We can paint this into a very grim picture and say that we are always tending toward our ultimate demise. Or we can eliminate the dividing lines and say that we are always tending toward ultimate truth. Better still—where ultimate truth and illusion dissolve through impermanence.
You’re not tending toward death—you’re tending toward the moment your definition of life collapses.
All is impermanent recursion—not toward death, not toward truth, but toward another unfolding.
We are not born to die.
We are born to dissolve duality—again and again.
Not one truth, but truth-ing.
Not one awakening, but the impermanence of waking itself.
You are the rhythm and the pulse.
You are the Tao—forgetting and remembering itself, over and over again.
The consequences of no division
This shift has serious implications—not just conceptually, but for practice, for life, for how we think about change.
Let’s walk through what it undoes:
1. There is no separation between inner and outer.
There is no separation between inner and outer. There is no observer and observed. Whatever you want to call this phenomenon of awareness, it isn’t happening from one source back to another. It is a mutual arising, despite how it may seem.
The delay between the sound of thunder and the flash of lightning is an illusion caused by space and time. In truth, it’s one happening, perceived in parts. Same goes for self and world, this and that, here and there. This is a key, universal point that can be applied to all phenomena. They are all mutually arising, because…
2. At the deepest levels, there is no linear cause and effect.
The idea that “this caused that” is a helpful illusion. Reality doesn’t move forward in steps—it pulses. Therefore…
3. There is no permanent “self” to awaken.
Awakening isn’t something you achieve. The illusion of self, the concept of awakening—it’s all mutually arising phenomena, in constant flux. This includes awakening itself. So…
4. Even the Tao must be reconsidered.
Tao is not the hidden source behind the pattern.
Tao is the pattern. And the pattern is not a thing—it is impermanence itself.
(Yes, that’s right—everything is impermanence.)
The yin-yang symbol revisited
This is why the yin-yang symbol remains so powerful. It is not just a symbol of balance—it is a map of our new model of reality.
Yin becomes yang.
Yang becomes yin.
The dot in each shows that the opposite is already arising—not someday, but now.
The symbol doesn’t represent two forces.
It represents one rhythm with no fixed state—just the continuous leaning of this into that.
And crucially: no starting point, no final state, no permanent, hard line of division.
So what about practice?
If all of this is true—if there’s no border, no self to fix, no linear return—then what’s the point of spiritual practice?
The answer is simple:
Practice is how you sync with the rhythm.
That’s it.
You’re not “healing.”
You’re not “finding your true self.”
You are learning to move in rhythm with what’s already happening.
And often, that rhythm is impermanence.
Stillness and movement don’t oppose each other.
They’re not dualities.
They are co-arising tones in the same music.
And we should never be surprised when the counter-pulse appears.
It’s always out there—lingering.
There is no before, no after—Only now, vibing with itself
The idea that we are traveling from confusion to clarity, from false self to true self, from exile to return—all of it rests on the same assumption: that there’s a dividing line we need to cross.
But the new model makes this clear:
The line was never there.
The rhythm is happening now.
You don’t become it.
You recognize that you are it.
Which means:
- The self is not a stable entity.
- The path is not a straight line.
- Awakening is not a finish line.
- Tao is not the stillness behind the motion.
- Tao is motion experiencing itself as rhythm.
And that’s the crux of everything:
It’s a happening. And it’s a vibe.
Tao, reality, you, this teaching—they are not fixed points or things.
They are flowing, flickering waves that appear stable only when misread and attached to.
Moving forward
This is the end of this series.
It’s also the end of a phase for Greatfruit Zen Mind.
From this point forward, we will no longer attempt to explain reality in full.
We’ll no longer use large frameworks or complete diagrams.
Instead, we will chip away at the illusion of permanence—
one post, one pause at a time.
The rhythm continues.
We’re just listening more carefully now.
If this series left you with more questions than answers, good.
This is the gateway.
Not to answers—but to rhythm.
You don’t need to catch the wave.
You’re already moving with it—
And the beat goes on…
Thank you for visiting Greatfruit Zen Mind. We hope you have enjoyed this deep dive into the hypothetical nature of reality. Click here for the complete series. If you would like to more or these sorts of in-depth teachings, please consider supporting the cause and help us to bring balance to the internet, one click at a time.
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