and end are everywhere the same. In this turning, there is no possibility of twisting, deceit and closure. The meditative man is to experience the untrembling heart of unconcealment. What does the word about the untrembling heart of unconcealment mean? It means unconcealment itself in what is most its own, means the place of stillness which gathers in itself what grants unconcealment to begin with. That is the opening of what is open, We ask: openness for what? We have already reflected upon the fact that the path of thinking, speculative and intuitive, needs the traversable opening. But in that opening rests possible radiance, that is, the possible presencing of presence itself.
What prior to everything else first grants unconcealment in the path on which thinking pursues one thing and perceives it: hotos estin ... einai: that presence presences. The opening grants first of all the possibility of the path to presence, and grants the possible presencing of that presence itself. We must think aletheia, unconcealment, as the opening which first grants Being and thinking and their presencing to and for each other. The quiet heart of the opening is the place of stillness from which alone the possibility of the belonging together of Being and thinking, that is, presence and perceiving, can arise at all.
The possible claim to a binding character or commitment of thinking is grounded in this bond. Without the preceding experience of aletheia as the opening, all talk about committed and non-committed thinking remains without foundation. Where does Plato's determination of presence as idea have its binding character from? With regard to what is Aristotle's interpretation of presencing as energeia binding?
Strangely enough, we cannot even ask these questions always neglected in philosophy as long as we have not experienced what Parmenides had to experience: aletheia, unconcealment. The path to it is distinguished from the street.on which the opinion of mortals must wander around. Aletheia is nothing mortal, just as little as death itself.
It is not for the sake of etymology that I stubbornly translate the name aletheia as unconcealment, but for the matter which must be