Extraordinary dreams this morning; An enlightening quality of lucidity beyond what I’ve previously experienced, pointing to a new world. This material is difficult to articulate, but I’ll give it a go:
Several times, in the context of various interactions with others, I suddenly slip into a state of heightened awareness in which I can see the big picture of my life’s purpose and energy while simultaneously engaging and participating fully in the present moment. Each time, there is a shock of recognition; the certainty that this is a state of higher consciousness which is more true, more all-encompassing, and more immediately and vibrantly present than ordinary reality, which seems a faded dream by comparison. Profound lucidity in these moments includes the knowledge that I’m dreaming, and that the dream is for me to explore. I see with certainty that the “others” are parts of myself, and tell them so.
The state is so intense that it’s difficult to contain, and I repeatedly jump out of it in order to describe it to someone. I witness the paradox and contradiction between observing, recording, describing, documenting, and fully letting go in the participatory present. The so-called “Objective” observer is necessarily a pitiful ghost, disembodied and insubstantial, and objectivity is an illusion. It is much richer to Let Go into full presence and participation. The fear here is of the actual Death of the observer, the Ego, but since it’s an illusion in the first place, nothing is lost and everything is gained by dying in this way.
I begin to understand that this illusion of a separate observer is profoundly alienating, limiting and disempowering. It ultimately must be sacrificed, left behind at the portal into larger being, and that the fear of death is what keeps us small, weak, isolated and limited. It is clear that, having passed through this portal, no one would experience the slightest desire to return to the previous state. How absurd it is that we cling so fiercely to our limitations, deathly afraid of the slightest loosening of our grip, unwilling to relinquish even a particle of our suffering; while our Original Nature, which is bliss and abundance, waits patiently on the other side with the half-smile of the Mona Lisa.
This stream of words and concepts, this attempt at description, is misleading, because the experience wasn’t abstract or conceptual, but very present, immediate and concrete. No words could describe it, because the very act of description terminates the state. The need for observation and description only arises in the state of suffering. The one who desires to record and explain is dead in the state of bliss, and who would want to revive him?