"Who is there?" asks
God.
"It is I."
"Go away," God says...
Later...
"Who is there?" asks God.
"It is Thou."
"Enter," replies God.
...
I have been asked, "Isn't observing a dualistic practice? Because
when we are observing, something is observing something else." But
in fact it's not dualistic. The observer is empty. Instead of a
separate observer, we should say there is just observing. There is
no one that hears, there is just hearing. There is no one that
sees, there is just seeing. But we don't quite grasp that.
If we practice
hard enough, however, we learn that not only is the observer empty,
but that which is observed is also empty. At this point the
observer (or witness) collapses. This is the final stage of
practice, we don't need to worry about it. Why does the observer
finally collapse? When
nothing sees nothing, what do we have? Just the wonder of life.
There is no one who is separated from anything. There is just life
living itself: hearing, touching, seeing, smelling, thinking. That
is the state of love or compassion: not "It is I," but "It is
Thou."
~ Zen teacher, Charlotte Joko Beck, author of 'Everyday Zen'