Standing Outside Time

As a general rule, discussions of awareness should never be undertaken on a Monday. Technical stuff, or maybe something related to the law are a better fit for Monday's cold rationality. Still, allowances must be made for the occasional exception.

Freezing time is one thing, but stepping entirely out of its boundaries is quite another. In the first case, time still matters, but has been put on hold for a while. In the second, time has lost its meaning altogether—a jarring proposition, to say the least. And yet, as our grasp of physical principles gradually expands, we seem to move ever closer to the metaphysical explanations that have been there all along. The mathematics of reality are increasingly dependent on our perception, which is by no means a reliable measure of anything. The true nature of things, therefore, is an utterly meaningless concept. There are no absolutes; there are only perceptions.

But how to describe the experience of standing outside the ordinary framework? Words, it seems, don't lend themselves particularly well to this sort of exercise. And yet, it is possible, and here's the proof of it.

Awaking from a deep sleep, I experienced that uncanny phenomenon in which everything appears new and familiar all at once. It was almost psychedelic, the way I seemed to see beneath the surface of things. All veils of subjectivity—the distorting filters of my own expectations, fears, and desires—were stripped away. The air was alive with the colored light of dawn. All was revealed to be in a state of flux. The random movements of the swarming seagulls out my window seemed governed by some higher ordering principle. The plants and trees seemed to be hovering above the architecture. Everything everywhere seemed to be vibrantly humming in excitement and joy. On top of it all, time seemed to have no meaning. It was like standing at the South Pole. All the time zones come together at the end of the world. A single pirouette can last an eternity.

This astonishing description of transcendent awareness is brought to you, of course, by the illustrious Craig Conley, by way of the I Found a Penny Today, So Here's a Thought section of his weblog. Now that Monday's veils of subjectivity have been rent, there's only one thing left to do with this day. I know there's a copy of The Fire from Within around here somewhere . . .