Groundless Ground
‘Gotama’s quest led him to abandon everything to do with his place - his king, his homeland, his social standing, his position in the family, his beliefs, his conviction of being a self in charge of a body and mind - but it did not result in psychotic collapse. For in relinquishing his place (alaya), he arrived at a ground (tthana). But this ground is quite unlike the seemingly solid ground of a place. It is the contingent, transient, ambiguous, unpredictable, fascinating, and terrifying ground called “life.” Life is a groundless ground: no sooner does it appear, than it disappears, only to renew itself, then immediately break up and vanish again. It pours forth endlessly, like the river of Heraclitus into which one cannot step twice. If you try to grasp it, it slips between your fingers.
This groundless ground is not the absence of support. It supports you in a different way. Whereas a place can tie you down and close you off, this ground lets you go and opens you up. It does not stand still for a moment. To be supported by it, you have to be with it in a different way. Instead of standing firmly on your feet and holding on tight with both hands in order to feel secure in your place, here you have to dart across its liquid, shimmering surface like a long-legged fly, swim with its current like a fast-flowing fish. Gotama compared the experience to “entering a stream.”’
- Stephen Batchelor, Confession of a Buddhist Atheist.
















