The trick of it is that “do nothing,” the instruction, tells you little about the hallucinatory, profound things that happen if you let yourself come to a stop.

Instruction

1. Find a posture that balances alertness and comfort.
2. For 5-15m, settle into a natural, nice-feeling groove of present-moment attention, neither pushing away nor grabbing onto thoughts and emotions.
3. Notice a natural clarity beginning to arise, which feels strangely blissful.
4. Notice, on the edges, a troubling feeling lurking—something like the fear of death, or shame about previous misdeeds.
5. Let it approach you, allow a disowned feeling that’s quietly dominated your entire life.
6. Feel that you will certainly die, for several minutes.
7. Discover that even within the heart of the dreaded feeling, you can find clarity and peace, in a part of you that has never changed.
8. Realize, for a moment, that you don’t ever need to be afraid, because nothing can touch your fundamental consciousness.
9. For a few seconds, spontaneously drop into a timeless stillness outside identity, Nothing itself, and find it shockingly fresh and beautiful.
10. Go “what the fuck is that,” try to grab onto it, lose it.
11. Know that you will begin your next practice by attempting to recreate this moment of timeless stillness, laugh at your own silliness.
12. End the sit refreshed, amazed, confused.

Instruction after a while

1. Settle into your customary posture, which feels like rejoining a friend.
2. Slip into a state of deep, pleasant tranquility, after 5-10m of allowing your sub-minds to quiet.
3. Contact the fact that many layers of conscious experience taken to be essential—the sense of self, time, space—are actually produced by habitual mental action.
4. Watch these habitual mental actions slow, and, sometimes, halt.
5. Rest in a space beyond concept that feels impersonal and yet universal; the home at the heart of Being.