My friend Daniel told me of a dream he has. He wakes on a promontory high above a sea of clouds. Alone. The world is at his command. Awake in the moment. Clear as the morning sky. At once he is at the centre. Below him, beneath the nimbus, beneath the cloak of white, lie the details of his life. The complications. The relationships. The narrative. The unfolding history. Later he will descend into the vortex of the consensus reality. The wrestling will resume. In the moment of the dream he is at the still, silent centre. I know that landscape. I go there too. In my dream life. Even now, while awake. Now. The still, silent centre high above the clouds.
No comments:
Post a Comment