“The Sleep Philosopher.”

by emilysafe

Last night in bed I found myself hanging about a little longer in that oh so slippery limbo between consciousness and oblivion. I didn’t question it because I knew that if I did, I would be jerked back awake, heart pounding, limbs quivering. So I just waited. 

And then I began to dream in words.

No pictures, no sounds, just a smooth stream of words flowing through me like water, filling up the cracks in my parched mind. I felt a deep thirst being quenched, a hunger so hidden within the layers of my cerebrum, I never would have found it when fully conscious. 

As to the nature of this unchained monologue, it was to do with growth, comparing spiritual advancement to that of the flesh. It was a commentary, a string of thought and philosophy. In that delicious liquid state of half-sleep, I spoke to myself. 

I am young now, I said, I am learning, adapting, growing, and I will continue to grow – until I reach the crest of that hill. I will dance atop it a while, captured in a golden moment of perfect balance, and then I will start to decay. There will be no tears, no fighting, just a lazy waltz with Time until I am gently pulled back into the ground whence I came. 

I think I smiled in my sleep then, just before these words cleaved the dark:

Your spiritual journey is not like that.

My eyelids fluttered, my semi-conscious brain suddenly understanding all. My thoughts could not be held accountable here, I had no defence so close to the edge of sleep, and it was truly liberating. Who can help what they dream? It allowed for a freedom of ideas, romance, clarity, and above all, an acceptance of a truth that may otherwise be questioned by a fully aware, suspicious brain. And so it went on –

Unlike my body, my spiritual growth is unending. 

Each day I am reborn, totally innocent, totally new, but still living in the gift of all my acquired wisdom. To be created both child-like and ancient is a soul-dizzying existence. And yet it is my portion. I come from a place barely believed in, a place both infinitely old and ageless, a place beyond physics, beyond fantasy, beyond the clock. I cannot reason with it, I cannot try and understand it; I simply believe it. Why else would I long for a land I’ve “never been”. Because I have been.

With each sunrise, my spirit is drawn out and I am taken deeper, soaring higher, all the while being trusted with the secrets of the universe. I am showered with gifts of untold pleasures and soft whispers of an everlasting love. I am trusted! I am held in esteem, I am the princess to whom the King confides. I am eternal. Unlike my bones, my soul becomes more nourished with time; eternity is barely sufficient to unravel such mystery, such undeserved delight. 

I remember now – in my bed I began to weep, the tears falling silent on my sodden pillow. I dared not move, such was this moment of unspoiled revelation. In that pocket of time, I knew all, without knowing anything, like a small child who has been given a great and complicated book. I held it in my hands, I could smell its leather, but I was still running my little fingers over the first page, taking it in, enjoying every word. 

The truth is ancient, stretching back before all things, even older than my soul, but that night in my bed, I tasted it. We were made for each other. 

I was almost asleep now.

To seek You is to love You, and oh how I ache for You. Each morning I shall call to You, and by evening we shall be unrecognisable, such is the beauty of our union.

My lips trembled, still wet with my tears. I very gently wiped them with my fingertips
before finally falling asleep.