We appear in the world, quite real, but without definite edges. Turns out we are not complete and autonomous; rather we bleed out into the universe, into openness. Or perhaps it’s better to say we arise out of, are sustained by, and return to that openness, that boundlessness. A traditional Zen word for this aspect of what we are is “empty.” You might think of this Empty as our family name. You and I, and flies and lice, and stars and planets, and heat and cold – those are our personal names. But we also all belong to the great Empty family.