As soon as we are fully conscious we discover loneliness. -C.S. Lewis 

art by Saya Woolfalk

When the alarm went off, she was in the middle of a vivid dream.  She was at the cusp of non-self, in a state of pure, contentless sensation.  Her soul had been dissolving back into the smallest molecules.  These molecules broke apart, smaller than single cells, smaller than the smallest thing possible and atomized out into the atmosphere.  The atmosphere of non-atmosphere.  Just before the alarm sounded, she heard a voice.  In the dream, the voice no longer had a home in the throat and the thought no longer had a home in the brain.  The voice was also a thought. There was no distinction between a voice and a thought in the non-atmosphere.  She listened, but the listening was also experiencing because listening doesn't happen with non-ears, but experiencing does. This was really not so complicated, but rather quite simple and natural.

The non-voice spoke in non-words to the non-ears across the non-atmosphere and also inside of her: "so, this is what it is like to be no one, nothing.  So, this is what it is like to not exist."

The alarm brought consciousness and her dream was quickly translated into words.  Just to keep up the routine, the most important parts were swept away by the flood of her conscious mind and all she has of it today are these little, unexplicable non-feelings.  But she did remember this much. And she remembered how it felt.  And she remembered that it felt good. And she remembered that good and bad do not exist. And then, there was nothing to be afraid of.

 art by John Malta

Independence day

photo by Parker Fitzgerald

Last July I received an unexpected letter in the mail. I read it. The words inside that letter woke me up from a deep slumber that I'd unconsciously allowed to wash over me. Hard facts are known to do that. That letter forced me to ask questions that I knew I had been avoiding asking. Those questions forced me to hear answers that I knew I had been avoiding hearing. Those answers forced me to take account of how far from freedom I had traveled and for what?

People who are able to truly love do not lightly put their lover's lives in jeopardy. People who are able to love value their own lives, for the sake of their lovers, if not themselves.

That letter, a record of invisible actions and impulsive decisions, changed my life forever. Forever for the better. I asked, without shame: Are you able to love? If so, are you loving the things that you want to? What in your actions allows your love to be seen?  If nothing, is love really present? If not, why pretend?

The universe has a plan for me (and for you). Let it unfold. Feel it wash over you. There is beauty, light in even the darkest moment- can you see it? This is what freedom feels like. We are lucky to know that feeling.