If we somehow manage to stop interposing concepts between ourselves and reality — something that any meditator will tell you is easier to think about than to do — and to simply attend to the present, can we spontaneously receive what we — I — now find here in this present?
Is receiving the given present only a matter of opening the door so the present can enter — or, everso, so we can get out of ourselves to meet it?
Or is there an effort of some kind to enable ourselves capable of accommodation — a preparation for each new given? A spiritual hospitality?
Or is the effort of accommodation only for those givens we ask to stay and to join our household, where some givens are only guests who are welcome to come and go?
Or does our hospitality for present givens allow accommodation to develop in collaboration with our guest — to instaurate residence if our given chooses to stay and share our home?
Invitation, hospitality, then accommodation, then residence…
The door is often locked shut by the thought of openness, which substitutes opening with thinking about opening and striving for an experience of openness.
If you have meditated for long hours, you might know what I mean.
If you have not meditated for long hours, you will certainly know what I mean.
This is a religious matter, and with religion one always already knows, unless by some miracle one stops always already knowing so something new can happen.