When we attempt to isolate anything, we find that it is in some way part of everything else in the universe. Just as it is absurd for a single wave to see itself as separate from the ocean, so it is for any of us not to recognize our oneness with what we know as infinity.

Oneness is difficult to adequately comprehend because we’re so immersed in a world of things that seem other to us. The opening line of the Tao Te Ching suggests that the Tao that can be named is not the eternal Tao. In other words, as soon as it’s named, it’s lost, because we’ve created a dichotomy. Oneness means just that: only one. The instant we label or name it, it’s something else, separate—it’s no longer the unity of oneness.

The place that we came from is devoid of dichotomies, unlike our material world, which is dependent on pairs of opposites. In this world, without a concept of up, there can be no down. Without an idea of death, there’s no life. The north pole of a magnet can’t exist without the south pole. No male, no female. No right, no wrong. We think in dichotomies, and we identify ourselves on the basis of opposites. We know what we like, what tastes good, what feels good, and so on, because of our experience with what we dislike.

The idea of oneness is next to impossible to grasp because we live in this world of contrasts, and contrast requires more than one element. So here we are, persistently in our world of twoness. How can we grasp the idea of oneness in the world of nonbeing that we occupied before we came into beingness? One way might be to think of our fingers, legs, arms, toes, and eyes: We don’t think of them as separate entities from our total being. We don’t refer to our fingers as being separate from ourselves. Even though they have their unique qualities and character, they’re part of the oneness we refer to as ourselves. So it is with our relationship to Source or God before we came into this world—in that world, we and God were one.    

Oneness as the concept of where we’re from means discarding all ideas of separation from anything and anyone. We can simulate oneness through the part of ourselves that knows the silence where there are no names and no things. Here, we can begin to feel our connection to everyone, to the earth, to the universe, and ultimately to the great Tao. Oneness becomes accessible in that great power, which acts without doing, keeps the entire universe in order, and generates form from nothingness.

If we imagine that we’re free of all labels, all separation, and all judgments about this world and the life inhabiting it, we can begin to understand oneness. The place we want to enter is of simply being. We can picture the Source of being as an energy that’s as available to us as is the sky. There’s no anger toward anyone or anything because everyone and everything is Spirit. This Spirit is God, our Source of being. We are it, and it is who we are. We relax into the silence of where we came from. We discover the meaning of life by being able to return to the oneness and nothingness while still in material form, without having to leave our body in the ritual of death. The closer we get to experiencing our original nature, the more peace and purpose flows through us.