What is life, dear Ones, but a dream?
I had a surprising, existential discussion last night with our son as I accompanied him to dream land. He started questioning, not so much the meaning, but the nature of life.
What is life?
He asserted that life is a dream because we cannot remember the day we were born; we cannot either remember what happened to us in our mother’s womb.
He asked his mother if she could remember. She could not.
He went on to talk about the size of our galaxy and the universe. Where do we exist?
Naturally, I then invited him into the terrain of consciousness. We have evolved over the centuries, certainly, yet do we remember how we evolved, from a conscious–not material–perspective?
Why is it, for instance, that we care more about the environment today than we did 200 years ago? Technology and global communication may explain some, but not all.
Is it also a question of consciousness rising?
In that regard, how much we remember from previous states, something truth-telling happened to me last night.
I went to bed with socks on my feet. In the middle of the night, feeling hot, I removed them. I found my socks next to me when I woke up; yet I do not have the slightest memory of taking them off.
How is it possible that my brain gave my hands the signal to remove my socks while not ‘alerting’ my consciousness?
What is life indeed? And what is death?
And how can life be surrounded, or nurtured by consciousness if we are constantly living in a dream state?
Is it possible that a dream state and consciousness would coexist?
With consciousness possibly leading us out of the dream?
Perhaps our son and I will soon have another ‘into dream land’ discussion.
Link to Facebook invitation:
Nurturing the Gift of Seeking 