Dancing in the Moonlight
Sleepiness has overcome you in life. Sleepiness unbidden. And then, contrarily, sleep may not come when you call to it.
In life, it is as if you have dozed off. In sleep, how much can you see? There is something in life that could be likened to a stupor in life that prevents you from seeing the utmost uppermost Reality. And, yet, when you are asleep at night, you may truly see that which you cannot remember when you are awake. And so, it would seem, that when awake, you may be less awake than in sleep.
How innocent are you in sleep. For a time, you do truly let go. You may not even be covered in a blanket. You are exposed. You may snore. Your hair gets mussed. You are forgetful of where you are. You are even forgetful that you are asleep.
You do not know all that transpires when your body is asleep. The scientists who study sleep do not begin to know all that transpires in sleep. When it comes down to it, they may know the physical dimensions of sleep, yet they may know less of other dimensions than you.
That which is dimensionless cannot be measured. It cannot be held under a microscope. As soon as you wish to pin down other dimensions, they have left. They will not be identified by any of the tools that come off assembly lines.
The only available tool is consciousness itself. Yet what a time consciousness has exploring itself! And yet, when all is said and done, there is nothing else to explore except consciousness. And yet consciousness conscious of itself is quite a to-do! Consciousness is like a princess that runs away as soon as she knows a prince or a commoner is watching her as she dances in the moonlight.
Can one asleep study sleep?
Can one awake to the degree he is awake study consciousness? Does consciousness exist in theory? Can the indescribable be described?
Perhaps the gown the princess wears can be described right down to the last button, yet wherein is the princess herself described in the description of her gown? The habitat of the princess can be described right down to an iris in her garden, and, yet the princess, even as she may be walking in the garden, is beyond description.
You may catch glimpses of the princess. The princess may catch glimpse of herself. She can attempt to describe what she saw even a moment ago, and, yet, descriptions inevitably fall short. Of course, they do. Can a princess describe dancing as she dances? What then happens to her dancing as she tries to break it into parts?
And yet doesn't every fiber of consciousness want to know its unknowable self?
And yet there is no guide, no map, no textbook. Like dance, as soon as consciousness wants to note itself, it seems to become self-conscious. And yet, the truth is that consciousness cannot disappear. Consciousness cannot become less than it is. It's just that consciousness eclipses itself.
You may believe you understand consciousness very well, and not understand it at all. You may think you are ignorant of consciousness or even its existence, and yet know it far better than you know anything else.
Consciousness is not a science nor is it an art. What is it then? What is it that has been named by the word consciousness?
Cannot consciousness describe itself? And if it cannot, why not? How can it be known or unknown and not be identified? Must consciousness, this great power We call consciousness, must it be elusive even to itself? Where does it exist? And why can't it be tallied when all want to explore it?
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