What if you woke up from a dream, only to realise you were already awake? Perhaps in that one split second, you would begin to understand what it really means to experience a moment.
Suddenly all your senses would become heightened, and time would envelop you in a bubble. Fragile. Unbroken. Unmeasured, yet spent.
And you might hear bells ringing outside, and soft songs in the distance, and the breeze flapping a tin roof, and the river rushing, and the chatter of passing people, and the typing of your fingers, and your breath – in and out, in and out – all at once.
And you might smell the sweet scent of sandalwood, and the mustiness of the bathroom, and the soap on your skin, and dreams and cigarette smoke wafting by.
And it might feel as though you were standing on a mountain top, but also swimming, in a deep pool of thought. And you might begin to realise, that all the joy and love you imagined receiving from another, existed within you already. It had found you. Unaware. In that moment when you awoke, but your eyes were already open.
And in that split second you might have realised you had been walking around in a dream, for eternity. And the rushing feeling that found you awake, was a scary thing. Because it felt like you were falling, and flying, both at once. And you were conscious of it. It was real. As real as anything else, anyway.
And tonight, as the wind rattles old windows in their old frames, and my wine glass fills itself, I try and remind myself of this.
Because in that moment, you – or I – may have begun a search, without even realising it. Seeking to understand that feeling, to really know it, and visit it whenever love is needed, and simply to serve as a reminder that the little things, they don’t really matter so much at all.