I guess I always felt that, to the extent there was a goal in Buddhist practice, my goal was to end up empty-handed. If, at the end of some imaginary adventure, I ended up with anything whatsoever in my hands, anything concrete and praiseworthy, then that could not possibly be the end of the line. (Yes, I know ... end of WHAT line???)
Naturally, this view led to a lot of squirming along the way. Every time I did my best to 'let go,' sure enough something would come along to replace whatever it was I had let go of. When I found myself empty-handed, then sure as god made little green apples, I would find something to pick up ... something like empty-handedness, for example.
I'm not sure what the point of all this is. It just crossed my mind. These days I'm too old and fat a lazy and occasionally I worry about that. What the hell, it's something to hold in my hands.
