Diebert van Rhijn wrote:The truth is not a "thing" and therefore if reasoning would lead to truth finding, it doesn't have to lead to asserting more things (in and of themselves).
Assuming that by 'the truth' you mean 'the All' - it is made up of finite things. So when one finds the former, the latter is also necessarily found.
Truth comes in the form of a binding and unbinding, a nature and a realization. Nothing to grasp at or to capture under a simple name or concept. Not even a law of identity.
Truth comes in the form of whatever it is that comes to you, whether a simple concept, a law or a mystical emotion. The main thing is to make sure that you are there to greet it, and not busy planning or telling others about how you will do so.
And yes other things do appear the moment one tries to ascertain that something would be "as itself". Once it's understood things are nothing but their ever-changing causes, it's easy to see how the thing is just a mirage, a concoction. It's not even "itself" as that would introduce some inherent form, being or self-identity.
The All is the ultimate cause of things, and it doesn't change. So things are 'as themselves' because there is no other way for the All to cause them.
Yes. And it's rather worn out (as even mountains do over the ages) but this idea of progress in Zen still holds truth: 1. seeing mountains as mountains 2. seeing mountains are no mountains 3. seeing mountains as mountains.
The deepest meaning of that koan is that the various types of 'seeing' are interchangeable, but their validity depends on the stage. Deluded people can't see anything properly.
Before understanding the illusionary nature of the world one might claim that things are as they are (since they're there as sense). Even after understanding the illusionary nature and understanding there's not really "mountain", one still might clench at the absoluteness of what is experienced as consciousness, reality, bliss or even raw sense, often dismissing all the names and forms as contamination. But the next step in my view is to open the clench and giving up this imagined "absolute" sense of self, consciousness or reality. If one is capable of course, I think for many people it might be suicidal to go that far, too much riding on it.
It could easily be the other way around. Someone can start without a sense of self or reality, where nothing is related to anything else.
Then one day, he listens to Bach's B-minor Mass, and is filled with wonder at the intricate interwoven patterns of sound when the sopranos sing 'Christe Eleison'.
Then he becomes a Christian and starts reading C.S Lewis, going to the local RCIA, and arguing with atheists on the internet. Although Lewis' apologetics and the intriguing theological discussions with the born-again stripper at the RCIA fill him with a sense of purpose and belonging, he suspects something is amiss.
He searches for something less mainstream, and discovers Kierkegaard after a stint with some New Agers. Within the context of Kierkegaard's concept of Christianity, the words 'Christe Eleison' strike him as being immensely profound. It is the lowborn, bastard Christ who is asked for mercy, not the crucified muse of the apologist. The God that united the highest with the lowest is not the God worshipped by paradise seekers. Suddenly, everything he experiences seems to be interwoven in the same way as the voices of those two sopranos. Now, all things hold the utmost meaning and purpose for him, since each of them is a voice in the eternal fugue.