Using Daytime Awareness ...as a slingshot into night-time lucidity
Updated: Sep 22, 2019
Our minds and bodies are programmed to protect us.
They're in constant assessment mode, labelling all stimuli as either for or against us. Outwardly, this reptilian central cortex of ours represents itself as divisive thinking, as in politics, the need to fight, the illusion. It's a program that's easily fed, even at trace levels, hence the constant triggering through much of our education, alleged leadership and media.
Through entering an astral state so often, and analysing my mind and body while in that state, I've come to realise that the 'protection mode' we all carry in our so-called logical state of mind, is more of a locking system. While it can serve a purpose on a physical level—to an extent—it's actually evolved over time (and careful cultivation) into an over-blown, over-hyped, steroid-laden creature drunk on its own mix of heady and highly emotive cocktails. It tweaks when offered outrage, flutters when fed fear and dances when shown drama. It's also the prison bars to other conscious realities.
The good news (keeping the vocabulary of the logical mind happy :) is that we can soften those bars to serve us a little better. At the heart of this softening, is the release of labels.
For example, as I write, sounds are wafting in from the neighbourhood. The screeches of cockatoos, tweets of other birds, traffic, sports whistles, power tools, wind in the trees. Yes, these sounds are all produced by these things, but at their base levels, they're simply sounds, or more correctly, frequencies. And when I close my eyes for a minute, and just let them wash over me, without the need to 'name' them, they tickle at me in the nicest of ways. They bring the outer inward. They mesh with me in a less conditioned, this-or-that, manner. Over the space of a few minutes I lose myself in them, totally, and it feels blissful. And I'm still in one piece—I'm not hurt.
I feel myself sitting on my chair. My feet on the floor. I let go of the notion of being 'separate from' for a few moments. My elbows on the table. Touch. Full-bodied touch. At this moment, my surroundings don't 'serve' me in any way. They just are, and I'm interacting with them on a more conscious and kinaesthetic level. It feels good. And I'm still here, unharmed.
Of course this is all a form of mindfulness. But it doesn't just play at that. It allows the clamp of underlying mortal fear a few breaths of respite. And this is actually huge in its implications.
I see the leaves through the windows, and my eyes dance with them, not knowing their names. I see the sea of colours all around me and inhale them in, oblivious to the breed of furniture and practicality they represent.