I Never Sleep

From the point of view of Consciousness, there is no experience of a dark, blank nothingness. Rather, there is only the ‘experience’ of itself, which means only the presence …of itself. This is neither deep, dark, blank, or asleep. It [is] dimensionless, present, luminous, alive and awake.
Consciousness is not the opposite of un-consciousness. For Consciousness there is no ‘off.’ It is always ‘on.’ ...What is considered to be deep sleep from the point of view of the waking mind is ‘wide-awakeness’ for Consciousness.
Now, with that as background, we can look more closely at the question as to whether identification remains at a subtler level in deep sleep.
Rupert Spira, interview

I think most people have had the experience of waking up the morning (or maybe days) after a disaster, a death, and for a moment you’ve forgotten. You’re simply there awake, until that first thought arises and with it the pain that sleep momentarily erased returns. Apparently, there are other versions of this story.

Recently, I’ve noticed the transition from being deep sleep to lying there in bed awake with a clarity that’s usually not there. What I notice is a buzz (and no thoughts), a luminescence (and no thoughts), and then fear (and still no thoughts), except its rather intense fear and thus physically uncomfortable. My mind quickly presents a list of reasons. This week they’re financial.

But, the process is kind of strange when you think about it. Why would I wake up gripped by fear for which there is no reason? (I here equate reason with a label, or a thought.) I think identification, attachment to beliefs, must remain deep inside me. My body must be listening to unspoken fears. How else could the sensation arise?

Thankfully, not all mornings are like this. Sometimes I notice that, “Oh, I was asleep.” And with that thought comes the understanding of Consciousness as presence, alive and awake: Even though I was asleep, I was awake all night. It was this experience that actually first attracted me to the video, I Never Sleep

And so, as the fear hit me this morning, I was reminded onceagain of the images. Rupert Spira so artistically presents the transition from deep sleep into waking. It doesn’t help my belly wake up any easier, but it’s something nice to share. It’s not your usual Advaita lecture.

When I was a Young Man

Bralley kids Christmas Card 1954, a photo by Seeking Tao on Flickr.

This morning as I sat to meditate, or simply just to be, since I had no intention to even close my eyes,  my body seemed to want to settle and I thought I’d give that a chance.

To my surprise, my mind became filled with these old Biff Rose lyrics:

When I was a young man
I ran away from home
I went to join the circus
I went to see the cotton candy world
And make me lots of money
On my own
For Molly oh my pretty Molly
She's waitin' all alone
Someday soon I will return to her…

Well, he never did, not in the song.  (Please listen to the whole song)
But, yesterday, my brother "made him lots of money" and retired.   And I find it very moving to see the broad sweep of his story: the searching, seeking, and the coming home.  His son-in-law said, “Woo Hoo! Hard work does pay off!”  But, the journey wasn’t all about the money.  It is not even always couched in terms of money.  The journey was and is about love.
We all leave home and join the circus, in one way or another, hoping to prove our worth, hoping to prove to ourself and others that we have earned and deserve love.  Some of us eventually make it home and others seem to get lost along the way.

It starts out all for Molly, in her many forms: parent, partner, child, friends, and self.  What an amazing discovery to realize, “She loved me all along.”  At least, that is one thing I have learned through sharing in my brother’s journey.  It’s what I’m learning in my own rather cash strapped journey.

Real love is unconditional.  That's the first lesson I learned from my brother. (What better definition for the very word - my brother.)  Love is simply given, not just by God or Spirit, but often by those around us.  It seems we’re always given a second chance.  And we’ll need it! Because, apparently, we have to make the journey and hopefully we’ll come full circle. 

And there are songs along the way that say it better than the words.  In my meditation there was another lyric preceding the words from Molly.  That tune is lost in the fuzziness of past transcendence.  But, perhaps they were from this song:

And yes, I know this is incredibly and unrepentedly "SO the 60's" ... let's just call it roots :)