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On Having No Head

Douglas Harding

The best day of my life - my rebirthday, so to speak - was when I found I had no head. This is not a literary gambit, a witticism designed to arouse interest at any cost. I mean it in all seriousness: I have no head.
— Harding

A short, absurd, eccentric, magnificent work of zen. Harding awoke one day while walking the Himalayas to a silence, an absence of all fabrications, and made the surprising discovery that nowhere in his true experience did he have a head.

Where everyone conventionally believes they have a head upon their shoulders, Harding cannot find it.

“It took me no time at all to notice that this nothing, this hole where a head should have been, was no ordinary vacancy, no mere nothing. On the contrary, it was very much occupied. It was a vast emptiness vastly filled, a nothing that found room for everything - room for grass, trees, shadowy distant hills, and far above them snow-peaks like a row of angular clouds riding the blue sky. I had lost a head and gained a world.”