The Sound of No-Thing
- Max Friend
- Nov 5
- 10 min read
A Journey Through Buddhist Emptiness and Kabbalistic Nothingness
Humanity, in its quest for meaning, has always been haunted by a few core questions. What is the nature of this reality we find ourselves in? Why do we suffer? And what is the ultimate truth, the "answer" that lies beneath the surface of our chaotic lives?
In the search for this truth, our ancient traditions have often behaved like great mountain climbers, setting off from different valleys to scale the same colossal peak. They use different gear, speak different languages, and chart different routes, yet as they near the summit, they often report seeing the very same, breathtaking view.
This essay is the story of one of the most profound "rhymes" in human spirituality. It is the story of two of the world's most sophisticated mystical systems—Mahayana Buddhism and Hebrew Kabbalah—arriving at an almost identical conclusion about the ultimate nature of reality. It is a conclusion that is shocking, liberating, and hiding in plain sight.
The Buddhist journey will take us across a metaphorical river to the "Perfection of Wisdom," a truth so profound it can be condensed into the single sound of a sigh: the syllable "AH." The Kabbalistic journey will take us into the very heart of the Hebrew alphabet, where we will find that the "Eye" of wisdom is destined to find a divine "Nothingness."
Both traditions, separated by thousands of miles and centuries of history, discovered that the key to liberation was not in finding something solid to grasp, but in gaining the profound courage to let go into a dynamic, creative, and "empty" reality.
Part 1: The Perfection of Wisdom – A Raft to the Other Shore
Our first journey begins in India with the "Second Turning of the Wheel of Dharma," a series of teachings given by the Buddha that form the basis of Mahayana Buddhism. At the heart of this new wheel are the Prajnaparamita sutras.
The word Prajnaparamita (pronounced prahj-nyah-pah-rah-mee-tah) is a Sanskrit term that can be translated in two beautiful ways. The first and most common translation is the "Perfection of Wisdom." Prajnā means "wisdom" or "insight"—not just book knowledge, but a deep, penetrating, direct seeing into the nature of reality. Pāramitā means "perfection" or "transcendence."
The second, more poetic translation is "Gone to the Other Shore." This translation reveals the entire philosophy in a single, powerful metaphor.
The Buddha’s core teaching begins with the diagnosis of the human condition: that we are living in Samsara. Samsara is the endless, repeating cycle of suffering, dissatisfaction, and confusion. It is our ordinary, everyday life, where we are pushed and pulled by our attachments, our fears, our anger, and our deep-seated illusion that we are a solid, permanent "self" in a world of other solid, permanent "things."
In the Prajnaparamita metaphor, Samsara is "This Shore." It is the land of our suffering. We are born here, we live here, and we die here, only to be reborn and repeat the cycle. We are entangled in what could be called a "Tide of Entanglement." We grasp at things (pleasure, possessions, status) hoping they will save us, but they are just driftwood that sinks and pulls us under.
Across a vast, turbulent river is the "Other Shore." This is Nirvāṇa (pronounced nir-vah-nah). Nirvāṇa does not mean a heavenly paradise in the sky, but rather a state of total liberation, peace, and the "blowing out" of the fires of greed, hatred, and delusion. It is the end of suffering.
The problem is, how do you cross the river?
The teachings of the Buddha—the Dharma—are the raft. And the Prajnaparamita, the Perfection of Wisdom, is the ultimate raft. It is the strongest, most direct, and most reliable vessel for making the journey.
So, what is this raft made of? What is this profound "Perfection of Wisdom"?
The wisdom, the secret of the raft, is the direct realization of Śūnyatā (pronounced shoon-yah-tah). This is the most crucial, and most misunderstood, concept in all of Buddhism. The word is translated as "Emptiness."
When we hear "emptiness," our Western minds immediately think of a depressing, cold, black void. We think of nihilism. We think "nothing matters." This is the exact opposite of the Buddhist meaning.
Śūnyatā is not a void; it is a "no-thing-ness." It is the teaching that no phenomenon, from a teacup to a galaxy to our very own sense of "self," has any solid, independent, fixed, or inherent existence.
Let's use the teacup example. When we look at a cup, we see a "cup." It seems solid, real, and self-contained. But the wisdom of Śūnyatā invites us to look closer. Where is the "cup-ness"?
Is it in the clay? No, the clay came from the earth.
Is it in the shape? No, the shape was given by a potter.
Is it in the glaze? No, that came from minerals.
Is it in the "function" of holding water? No, that is a label we applied with our mind.
When we investigate the cup, we find it is not a "cup" at all. Instead, it is a temporary, interdependent event. It is a coming-together of the entire universe: the earth, the water, the fire of the kiln, the potter's skill, the history of art, and our own mind that labels it. If you take away any one of its "non-cup" parts (the clay, the potter, the heat), the "cup" vanishes.
This is emptiness. The cup is "empty" of any independent, separate self. It is full of the entire universe.
The Prajnaparamita teaches that this applies to everything. It applies to our enemies, our friends, and most importantly, it applies to us. The "self" we are so desperate to protect and promote is, like the cup, a temporary event. It's a collection of thoughts, feelings, memories, and physical sensations that are constantly arising and passing away. It is "empty" of a solid, permanent "me."
This wisdom is the raft because it is utterly liberating. When you see that the things you grasp at are like reflections in water, your compulsion to grasp them dissolves. When you see that the "self" being insulted is not a solid, permanent thing, the anger has nowhere to land. You stop fighting the reflections and instead become free to navigate the river. You have "gone to the other shore" by realizing there was never a solid "you" or a solid "river" to begin with.
Part 2: The Sound of No-Thing – The Syllable "AH"
The teachings on the Perfection of Wisdom are vast. Some of the original sutras are 100,000 verses long. They are a lifetime of study. But the tradition also loves to condense this vastness, to distill the ocean into a single drop.
This distillation process is one of the most beautiful in any religion:
The Buddha's 84,000 teachings...
...are all condensed into the Prajnaparamita Sutras.
These vast sutras...
...are condensed into the famous and beloved Heart Sutra.
The Heart Sutra itself...
...is condensed into its famous mantra: TADYATHĀ OṂ GATE GATE PĀRAGATE PĀRASAṂGATE BODHI SVĀHĀ. This mantra is a description of the journey itself: "It is thus: Om! Gone, gone, gone beyond, completely gone beyond—Awakening, so be it!"
And finally, the entire meaning of the Heart Sutra and all of Prajnaparamita...
...is condensed into the "One-Syllable Prajnaparamita."
That single syllable, the heart-essence of 84,000 teachings, is the sound "AH" (अ).
Why this sound? It is not an arbitrary choice. It is a profound linguistic and spiritual pun.
In Sanskrit, the ancient language of the sutras, the letter "A" (pronounced as a short "ah" sound) is the primary sound of negation. When you place it at the beginning of a word, it means "not" or "un-."
Nitya means "permanent." Anitya means "not permanent" (impermanence).
Vidya means "knowledge." Avidya means "not knowledge" (ignorance).
Atman means "self." Anatman means "not self" or "no-self."
The Heart Sutra teaches Śūnyatā by doing exactly this. It is a long, litany of negations. It famously says: "No form, no sound, no smell, no taste... no eye, no ear, no nose... no suffering, no cause of suffering... no wisdom, and no attainment."
The syllable "AH" is the sonic embodiment of this entire "No."
It is the sound of "un-".
It is unborn.
It is uncreated.
It is unmanifest.
It is unproduced.
It is not-a-thing.
When a practitioner meditates on the sound "AH," they are meditating on the sound of emptiness itself. They are sonically aligning their mind with the ultimate "No" that liberates from all illusion. "AH" is the sound of reality before we project our labels, our fears, and our grasping onto it. It is the sound of the "other shore." It is the great, liberating sigh of "letting go" into the true nature of reality.
It is, in essence, the sound of "No-Thing."
Part 3: The Hebrew Alphabet and the Eye of Nothingness
Now, let us leave the mountains of India and travel west, to the mystical traditions of Judaism. Here, we find Kabbalah (meaning "to receive"), a profound, esoteric path to understanding the hidden, divine nature of reality and our place within it.
Where the Buddhist seeks to understand the Dharma, the Kabbalist seeks to understand the infinite, unmanifest Divine, known as the Ein Sof (pronounced eyn sof), which literally means "Without End" or "The Limitless."
Like Śūnyatā, the Ein Sof is the ultimate, unknowable source-ground from which all reality emerges. And like the Buddhists, the Kabbalists had a sophisticated system for pointing to this un-point-able truth. Their key was not Prajnā, but the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet.
To the Kabbalist, the letters are not just simple characters for writing. They are the 22 fundamental forces or "building blocks" of creation. God, in a sense, "spoke" the universe into existence using these letters. Each one holds a deep mystical secret.
And here, in this sacred alphabet, we find our first astonishing parallel.
The Silence of the Father: Aleph (א)
The first letter of the alphabet is Aleph (א). Its numerical value is One.
Mystically, Aleph represents the indivisible, transcendental Oneness (Echad) of the Divine. It is the source, the "father" of all the other letters. It is the point of pure, unmanifest potential before creation, before duality.
But what is the sound of Aleph? Aleph is silent.
It is technically a "glottal stop," the slight catch in your throat before you say a vowel, like in "apple." It is the pure, unconditioned breath, the spiritus lenis, that must exist before any specific sound can be made. It is the silence that holds the potential for all sound.
The parallel is immediate and stunning. The Buddhist path condenses all 84,000 teachings down to the primordial sound "AH"—the sound of the unborn and unmanifest emptiness. The Kabbalistic path begins with the silent letter Aleph—the soundless sound of the unmanifest and indivisible One.
Both traditions begin by pointing to the same truth: that the source of all things is not a "thing" at all, but a silent, uncreated, limitless potential. "AH" is the first expression of that silence; Aleph is that silence.
The Great Rhyme: The Eye (Ayin) and The Nothingness (Ayin)
The parallel with Aleph is profound, but it is the connection to the letter Ayin (ע) that reveals perhaps the single most precise "rhyme" in all of comparative mysticism.
Ayin is the 16th letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Its power lies in a sacred "pun" where two different words, derived from the same root, point to the entire mystical path.
1. Ayin (ע) = "The Eye"
The literal, original meaning of the word Ayin is "Eye." Mystically, this does not mean our physical eye. It means the "inner eye," the "eye" of the soul, the "eye" of spiritual vision, insight, and prophecy. It is the faculty of "seeing" beyond the surface of things and perceiving the hidden, divine truth.
This is a perfect parallel to the Buddhist concept of Prajnā—the very "Wisdom" in Prajnaparamita. Prajnā is the "wisdom-eye" that sees the true nature of reality. In both traditions, the journey is about opening this higher "Eye."
2. Ayin (אַיִן) = "The Nothingness"
Now, for the punchline. The name of the letter, Ayin (ע), is a homophone for another, central Kabbalistic concept: the word Ayin (אַיִן), which literally means "Nothingness" or "Non-existence."
This Ayin (Nothingness) is the Kabbalist's highest and most secret name for the Ein Sof, the unmanifest God.
Just like the Buddhist Śūnyatā, this Ayin is not a nihilistic, empty void. It is a "No-Thing-ness" that is more real than any "something" we can imagine. It is the potent, creative, dynamic "nothing" from which all "something" (known as Yesh) emerges. Creation is described in Kabbalah as Yesh me-Ayin—"Something from Nothing."
Now, let us put these two meanings of Ayin together.
The entire mystical path of the Kabbalist is to use the Eye (Ayin) of spiritual insight to perceive that the ultimate, true nature of all reality and the Divine itself is Nothingness (Ayin).
The parallel to Buddhism is now complete and undeniable:
The Buddhist Path: The "Perfection of Wisdom" (Prajnā, the "eye" that sees) is the direct realization of Emptiness (Śūnyatā, the "no-thing-ness"), which is sonically embodied by the syllable "AH."
The Kabbalist Path: The highest spiritual state is the "Eye" (Ayin) of insight perceiving that the Divine Source is Nothingness (Ayin), a word that also begins with that same primordial "A" sound.
Both traditions, in their highest and most subtle teachings, came to the same conclusion. They discovered that the ultimate truth is not a big "Something" on a throne, but a vast, liberating, and silent "No-Thing-ness" that is the source and substance of all that is.
Conclusion: The Sigh of Liberation
When you sit in a Buddhist temple, you are sitting in a room dedicated to the practice of "crossing the shore." And when you hear the chant of the Heart Sutra or the meditation on the syllable "AH," you are hearing the sound of the raft. You are hearing the sonic expression of Śūnyats—the great "No" to illusion, the "unborn" that sets you free.
What this comparison confirms is that this "sound" is not exclusive to one tradition. It echoes. It rhymes.
When the Jewish mystic closes their eyes and meditates on the silent, pregnant Aleph, they are touching that same "unborn" reality. When they open their inner "Eye" (Ayin) to perceive the Divine "Nothingness" (Ayin), they are landing on that same "other shore."
These traditions, like the mountain climbers from different valleys, have met at the summit. They have all discovered that liberation is not a process of gaining a solid self, but of dissolving the illusion of one.
The "AH" sound is the first breath of creation, the "No" that negates all illusion, and the final sigh of relief when we finally, joyfully, let go. It is the sound of our true nature, a nature we share with the empty cup, the distant star, and the silent, waiting Aleph.