A reflection from 2015 on the nature of the self in sleep and waking.
The Great Knowing
Here in the depths of sleep,
There is movement between the I and the Iless.
Darkness rolls me over,
In the seen and the unseen.
Monsters reach out to ensnare me
And demons rise from so long ago.
Ghosts wait to remind me of who I was and what I have forgotten
And skeletons dance loudly inside the hidden cupboards.
The light drifts between them,
Like sunshine moving through fog.
Here and there an angel lifts me out of the darkness,
Showing me the reasons I cannot see.
From within the darkest waves,
Old men and old women take my hand and steer the way.
They are always scarred and ugly,
But their hearts are pure and free.
All the kingdoms of heaven and hell mean nothing to the free.
They speak to me with eyes that whisper.
Telling me not to be afraid and not to desire salvation.
The I and the Iless continue to rise and fall,
While the great knowing embraces them all.
The darkness gives birth to webs of delusion, prisons of fear and uncertainty and terrors of the separate self.
The light offers up the rooms of its many mansions,
Its vistas of peace and perfection and wonders of the infinite within.
The old ones have seen it all
And recognise the I and the Iless in a moment of truth.
They come from many kingdoms but belong to no kingdom at all.
No projection binds them or deceives them.
They have no temptation, no heaven, no hell.
Sometimes I see them,
Between the doors of perception,
Inside heaven or inside hell.
But just when I reach them,
The I fades away and all is forgotten.
The Iless awakens and erases the play.
Only the great knowing remembers.
© R.J. Hudson 2015.