Liber in brief

Why do you want what you want, desire what you desire? Why do you find what you find? Why do you interpret what you feel the way you do, and also: how do you know it's right?

Already as you read these questions, answers are welling up inside you. Comments. Liber learns: give them space. Let what you find, express itself, what you feel, make itself felt. And be "merely" present for that. Experience it, question it if necessary, but find nothing of it, want nothing of it. Just as a sieve reacts no differently to sand than it does to salt.

What does that get you? Liberation from a self-concept that is itself legislator, executor and controller at the same time. And thus by definition is at odds with itself. I want, I find, I feel, I desire? The Liber learner comes to see: every sentence that begins with the word "I" narrows my life space, unless ... I learn with an uncovered eye to see who is saying it.

To this end, Liber teaches you to shift your energy. To make not realization, but as objective an evaluation as possible of what you want, feel and desire your main occupation. The exercise: to ground your existential center of gravity not in your thinking and feeling, but in your single awareness of them. Learning to become a single receptive ear to what is within you.

Specifically, you do this as follows: in "word clouds" you write down what is going on inside you. As if you were the note taker of your own feelings and thoughts. Then you read this back out loud without thinking anything of it. You do this until the eloquence of your word cloud begins to lose energy and you notice that the roles are reversed. That the highest word is no longer for what you think and feel, but for your potential to be perfectly empty and receptive to it.

A power you didn't know you had becomes new ground under your feet: your ability to be powerless, as "nothing," for all the "something" stirring within you.

What happens then is as puzzling as it is fruitful. Invited to share without reservation with your unconditional interest - your "nothingness," what you find, feel, want and desire - your "something" - begins to cleanse and organize itself. Fear of being overwhelmed by the unknown gives way to a desire to become acquainted with it. What is outdated allows itself to be replaced by what is. Your thinking dares to evolve and begins to harmonize with place and time.

Released from a floating self-construction, you come to stand with both feet on the ground.