I am not „awake“. I am half asleep. In the dawn. I am blinking. Each blink takes years. Years in which I have opened my eyes enough for some morning light to enter them. Years in which I sink back into dark sleep. Eyes tightly closed.
Years in the knowledge and the light. Years in the fear and the darkness. In years I have to calculate with me. Not in short hours or days or weeks.
Human sleep is wakefulness proper. Human wakefulness is sleep proper.
If we are in the middle, then we blink. Perhaps I have „arrived“ with my blinking. Arrived in the middle. I may experience both. The infinite security in unity and the abysmal pain of loneliness.
„Awakening“… isn’t that a process? A happening? Something that lies between sleep and wakefulness? Is the „goal“ a permanent state in awakening itself? In awakening, we are everything. The pendulum in the middle. The vibration at rest. Then it is the transitions, the short times that lie between, that are „precious.“ In them, I am complete. In them I am whole. Taking the sleep with in the wakefulness. To hold the wakefulness with in the sleep. In this way one extends the time of perfection. Out to his whole being. To his life. And to his death.
Being awake leads to sleep. Sleep leads to wakefulness… This is true on the earthly and also on the spiritual level. Only the other way round…