Living Truth

Is there a place that can not be touched, a place that cannot be reached? Is there a reality that cannot be experienced from an confining individually framed perspective? I ask these questions, for one night I woke up for no apparent reason, and when I closed my eyes to try and get back to sleep, I saw something I only then remembered seeing once before, as a child.  Up until that moment I had forgotten I had seen the likes of such a thing before.  I saw something very real, something unbelievable, something that could never be described, something that wipes your mind clean of all its countless chaotic thoughts and memories.  I saw something that could not have been more real, in spite of my inability to comprehend what it was that I was seeing.  It was much realer than the bed I was lying in, the clothing I was wearing, and the walls which surrounded me.  It was much realer than my own body which I fell tingling beneath the sheets.  It hurts as I strain to try and recall what I actually witnessed that evening.  I try with all my might, but ultimately it is beyond this memory.  For, it was and still is the living truth beneath the surface of everything. 

CopperCoil CopperCoil
36-40, M
2 Responses Aug 14, 2008

Were you on something? hahaha, but no besides that, in my opinion I say: "yes" there is a place that can not be touched or reached within the confines of our own reality. There have been lots of psychological experiments that have shown *slight* inclinations that our brains do naturally experience altered states of consciousness. Many people have ran with that saying that we are meant to be spiritual beings having a human experience. Personally I could see the potential for naturally altered states just from some meditations I've done, but one thing for certain is that no matter what you experienced, mere words never quite do it justice.

The scary thing is, I've done that before. But mine are flashes that usually take me off guard. The "everything" will pass before my eyes and I'll have to take in a quick breath like I'm drowning. Soon, it goes away, but leaves something aching, wonderful, and terrible behind.