The Fullness of Emptiness
by Lou Sharma
Emptiness, a fundamental teaching in Mahayana Buddhism, might feel like a tough idea to chew on. It’s an insight that can feel more sobering than soothing at times, and it’s no stranger to misinterpretation.
In the Heart Sutra, one of the Buddha's disciples expounds on emptiness, recounting how all phenomena—from bodily senses to thoughts to the dharma itself—are empty of self-nature. Or in other words, the phenomena we experience in daily life are not actually as fixed, solid, and independent as we conventionally perceive them to be. This might feel like bad news when it comes to experiences we grasp after (such as the joy of a new romantic relationship), yet good news when it comes to difficulties we want to push away (such as a frustrating boss).
Misunderstandings of emptiness are often at play in “spiritual bypassing”—a term coined by Buddhist psychologist John Welwood to describe how practitioners use spiritual concepts to bypass or sidestep difficult emotions or tensions.
Spiritual bypassing might feel like relief at first, but ultimately takes us down a dismal road: Why bother feeling the heartbreaks of life if it’s all just fleeting phenomena? Why not just numb out and avoid feeling anything at all? In fact, why should we even bother to go on the date, adopt the pet, or start a new project if it all just disintegrates in the end anyway?
In this way, "emptiness" can be weaponized as a means to disconnect from reality. But the wisdom of emptiness serves us not by desensitizing us—instead, it helps build our capacity to fully meet the ups and downs of life. Rather than an excuse to disconnect from our experience, emptiness invites us to plug into the power of the present moment. When truly understood, this insight pokes playfully at our fixed ideas, provoking curiosity about what is actually happening now, and deep care for what happens next.
Appreciating emptiness helps me to relax and lean in toward my experience, rather than lean out: Accepting that grief enters all relationships, I slow down to appreciate small moments of connection with my loved ones. Remembering that even the most challenging project will eventually end, I take a breath, regroup, and begin again. And recognizing that everything and everyone changes, I try to keep an open mind about what is possible.
One of my favorite moments reflecting on emptiness took place during a recent Becoming Bodhisattvas retreat at the Garrison Institute. After meditating during an afternoon rainstorm, our retreat community was delighted to spot a double rainbow in the sky. We all rushed outside to see it. (In our excitement, we may have broken functional silence to spread the news!)
Yes, the double rainbow was a mere optical illusion; just another fleeting, empty phenomena. But that moment didn't feel “empty” at all. As we gathered at the front steps of Garrison, gazing in awe together, my heart felt joyful, tender–and dare I say: full.
