Rooted in Tsongkhapa’s revival of Candrakīrti’s Prāsaṅgika–Madhyamaka, the Gelug tradition zeroes in on emptiness as the ultimate nature of reality—nothing possesses inherent, independent essence. All phenomena arise through a web of causes, conditions, parts and labels, much like a movie depends on actors, script and projection. Peeling back these layers reveals both the “empty” and the “clear” aspects of mind: emptiness undoes grasping at solidity, while clarity unveils luminosity and awareness.

Analytical meditation takes center stage. A student might spend weeks interrogating a simple object—say, a clay cup—asking: “Is this cup truly one thing, or merely a constellation of clay, shape, function and name?” This fourfold reasoning (identity, disintegration, dependence, and designation) drives home that no phenomenon stands alone. Contemporary Gelug teachers, including figures close to the Dalai Lama lineage, often stream these sessions live, making age-old logic debates feel as immediate as a Zoom call.

Beyond debate halls, lojong—or mind-training slogans—fuse emptiness insight with compassion. Phrases like “Cherish others more than self” hinge on recognizing that the “self” is no fortress but a mirage woven from thoughts and perceptions. By dismantling ego-fixation, practitioners respond more skillfully to life’s curveballs, whether in personal relationships or global challenges like climate anxiety.

In advanced Vajrayāna practice, deity yoga further refines this view: visualizing oneself as a buddha-form embodies both the emptiness of self and the purity of awakened qualities. This dynamic interplay between void and vividness feels strikingly relevant in an age craving both stability and transformation. Emptiness, then, isn’t a black hole of nihilism but a doorway to boundless wisdom and kindness, opening fresh possibilities at every turn.