Prompt: If you were to forget everything you had ever known what would the world look like?
I awoke with a start and an end and a strange sensation bubbling in my stomach. I had been sinking into a dream of a great river emptying. Every drop was returning to the sky. My hands screamed as they shrank, whilst memories of 10,000 years of progress disappeared like wisps of smoke on the wind. Although I remained locked to the fixed point of the present, the future had altered it’s course and was no longer flooding ceaselessly towards me. I was being cast backwards down the tide of time, observing as the present moment of a moment ago un-happened, drifted away from me and un-became a speck on the horizon. I was swallowed up, pulled home into the nothing, every moment returning once again, returning and returning endlessly, forgetting and forgetting until there was no separation any more between the present and the future, between this thing and that thing, between one being or another, between the stars and the planets, all separation un-separating, all of everything returning to a single strand of light in an infinite darkness, a great re-merging between my Self and the universe. Landing in the warm glow of the primordial soup, I awoke.
It had been a very strange dream. I observed my hand. A smile appeared in the centre of my palm, parted it’s lips and sung in falsetto: ‘Before I learnt to forget what I am I was here in the place where there is no separation. I have forgotten how to differentiate my hand from my arm and myself from another and a planet from the cosmos. We began as a oneness, we began at the centre of all creation.’
Perhaps I had not awoken after all. Come to think of it, my room did look rather different. In fact I was not in a room at all; to even conceive of the idea of a room now seemed impossible. I was in an indescribable state which was also a place which was also a time, which I could most accurately describe as a vortex of colour. Colours and shapes. There were no objects, no places or people. Only a ceaselessly shifting vortex of colour, sound and sensation that danced for me, in me and through me. To be quite precise I think I would say that I was the vortex, or rather it was me, or even better it was everything, or everything was it. There was no me in separation to anything else here. It was the only thing, and it is the infinite ‘thing’.
I attempted to observe my hand. I felt a flash of pink and the dancing shapes swirl through me. The high resonance of the falsetto vibrated from my innards. ‘Learn to forget and you shall see the world for what it is. One great dancing vortex of colour. Remember to learn to forget.’
In the centre of the vortex there was a no-thing. This no-thing was in my centre (for the vortex was me, or rather I was it, or rather I was everything, or rather everything was everything) and it was the fixed point of the present around which everything swirls and whirls. In this no-thing separation is inconceivable- no-thing can not be separated. I observed the no-thing. There was no progress here. Or conflict, or prejudice, or consumption, or judgement, or envy, or hatred . There was no separation. With no separation comes no difference.
Remembering that at the source there is no difference, I danced. Everything danced. Everything was dancing, always. Everything I had learnt had made me forget to see it that way. I needed to forget what I had learnt in order to remember to forget. To dance in the space of nothing. To see everything dancing, all at once.
Entering the nothing, I forgot again and again and again. Until there was nothing to forget. And no need to remember.
I observed the universal hand as it sang from the soul ‘In my beginning and my end there will be no-thing. Awake now and remember to forget separateness. I sing my song through you as you sing yours through me. Awake now and remember to forget again.’
I woke up and remembered nothing.