Jonang practitioners lean into a flavor of emptiness known as shentong, “empty of other,” which feels more like discovering a bright jewel than erasing the whole shop. Rather than stripping experience down to a void where nothing holds, shentong highlights that all conditioned phenomena lack inherent reality, yet the mind’s luminous, unchanging ground—buddha-nature—remains vividly present.

Picture a misty morning that slowly burns off, revealing a sunlit valley. Relative truths (the mist) vanish under scrutiny, but the luminous mind (the valley) never went away. In meditation, attention shifts from poking holes in every thought to resting in the clear awareness that underlies them. The five skandhas, once thought solid, are seen as transient reflections dancing on that ever-awake screen.

This approach springs from Dolpopa Sherab Gyaltsen’s 14th-century teachings, which sparked debate across Tibetan schools. Today, as mindfulness circles in Silicon Valley explore nonduality, Jonang’s shentong voice adds depth: emptiness isn’t a stark nothingness, but an invitation to meet the buddha within. Recent webinars hosted by the Jonang foundation have attracted curious Western practitioners, eager to balance “empty-of-self” insights with an affirmative sense of heart-quality.

Embracing shentong doesn’t deny conventional Buddhist tools like ethical conduct or insight meditation—it simply offers a jogged perspective: alongside analysing thoughts, allow a spacious, compassionate knowing to shine. This mind-ground isn’t a lofty concept tucked away in Dunhuang caves; it’s the ever-present treasure, waiting to be unearthed beneath layers of self-doubt and distraction. By weaving shentong into daily practice, the doorway opens to both freedom from clinging and the clarity of boundless wisdom.