I read the young ones pondering what’s to come, what’s to acquire and what’s to see, while the elders ponder what has been, what to let go of, and what they’ve seen. What they share between them is a belief in the validity of their various adventure stories, and hence their own corresponding solidity. Few dare to question their own personal reality — why would anyone embark on such a confounding quest?
Traditionally, the wise have compared life to a dream, while more recently, the designated savants have postulated that whatever appears is a kind of quantum hologram, or elaborate computer simulation. The more consciousness itself is explored, the more of a mighty mystery it turns out to be, until at last one must admit that the very tool we employ to understand it, the human intellect, is actually part of the program itself.
What happens when consciousness becomes self-aware? Is that the much-sought dawn of enlightenment, or simply the completion of one game, in lieu of the start of a more sophisticated one — one which our current capacity cannot begin to fathom?
With these questions lurking in some obscure corner of mind, I rise from my bed in the morning and quickly scan the body to determine its current status. One might say that I have moved from one dream to another, and that may be true, but even so, I would like a cup of coffee.
As it so happens, I am in luck, because there is an angel of mercy that has appeared here by some act of unaccountable grace to live with me and be my love. She makes me a cup of coffee, and it is good. Regardless of what came before, and what may follow after, right here in this moment, the love of one person for another is enough.