Sep 6, 2019
While awake, one would likely consider themselves to be a person, having a name, body, world, family, history, and so forth. But what happens to all of these when falling asleep? In the experience of deep sleep, does the sense of having a body remain? Is your name remembered? Is the world known? Where is that person who fell asleep? Where did they go?
In order to fall asleep, the story of the person and their life, their hopes and fears, all of it, must be let go of. Every night, all that’s taken to be real, to be important, all thoughts, memories, feelings and perceptions, everything we believe we are, is given up, in exchange for the peace and rest of no-thingness. The person doesn’t go to this place to rest, the person itself is disbanded, their story simply ceases to be experienced.
Upon waking, there is a sense of being, and immediately the story is sought out by the mind and recreated, giving rise to the sense of a body, a name, a world, and history. Of course, this story is rarely questioned, it’s readily accepted as reality, even though it had to be accessed, meaning it had to be found, formulated and recounted in order to be known.
Where are you during that whole process? Who is being informed of these things before the image of the person is known? Who is there, present and aware, being told the story of who you are and the world to which you belong? Who sees the continuous dissolving and reforming of the story of a person and their world?