Waking up
is a profound shift
in relationship to Time.

Linear time ceases
as a reference point,
even as phenomena
arise and pass away
and the clock keeps ticking—
yet you simply know
nothing is truly happening.

There is only the eternal Now.
One rests in the moment
of waking up—
not a fixed point
on the arrow of time,
but a place
where everything stops,
where nothing ever occurred,
and one is on the cusp
between the known and the unknown,
forever ‘just waking up.’

It’s like crossing
the event horizon
of a Black Hole—
an irresistible pull
to a stillness of such depth
it cannot be imagined.
Beyond this point, struggle is futile.
One has fallen into oneself,
and all other options
pale in comparison.

There is no time,
no energy,
no inclination
to maintain the masks—
for there is real joy
in being authentic.

One discovers that
one is singular,
boundless, boundaryless,
including all yet not
dissolving diversity
into the mush of sameness.

There is no longer anywhere to go,
for all places are simply here,
home, wherever one may wander.