Oblivion or The Inability To Comprehend A Finite Existence
*edit: this was actually posted on my old tribe.net blog back in 2007...just a note*
A few nights ago I sat up straight in my bed from a dead sleep with only one thing on my mind: what happens to my consciousness when I die? The dream I had just experienced was tantamount to an incomprehensible black void; only it didn't feel like a dream. Not any dream I've experienced previously. It was more of a sense than a dream, a sense of nothingness, a feeling of being compressed into the smallest bit of matter by the blackness.
My heart was racing, all I could think about was an image of an old black and white television set cut off suddenly by a power outage, the onscreen images immediately shrinking and fading into a single minuscule pinpoint of light. To fathom or comprehend the infinite state of not being that comes with death is akin to staring into a bottomless abyss. What I remember most of all about that dream was a sudden feeling of total sensory deprivation. The state of being unable to touch, smell, hear, see, think, or even exist - it's mind-numbing to contemplate a total and complete void, a total absence of light.
I understand that my body is just a shell for my consciousness, a container with a very limited shelf life. I've known people who've come back back from the dead - who have been clinically dead and were resuscitated, and their stories range from seeing a literal flaming hell, as was the case with my Father, to experiencing absolute nothingness until they were revived.
The condition of never waking up is unimaginable to me. Life as we comprehend it for each of us ends when we do. I've had people around me who passed away, and it struck me as being the single most life-changing event that anyone living being could ever face. It reinforces the universal truth that life can end in the twinkling of an eye.
A few nights ago I sat up straight in my bed from a dead sleep with only one thing on my mind: what happens to my consciousness when I die? The dream I had just experienced was tantamount to an incomprehensible black void; only it didn't feel like a dream. Not any dream I've experienced previously. It was more of a sense than a dream, a sense of nothingness, a feeling of being compressed into the smallest bit of matter by the blackness.
My heart was racing, all I could think about was an image of an old black and white television set cut off suddenly by a power outage, the onscreen images immediately shrinking and fading into a single minuscule pinpoint of light. To fathom or comprehend the infinite state of not being that comes with death is akin to staring into a bottomless abyss. What I remember most of all about that dream was a sudden feeling of total sensory deprivation. The state of being unable to touch, smell, hear, see, think, or even exist - it's mind-numbing to contemplate a total and complete void, a total absence of light.
I understand that my body is just a shell for my consciousness, a container with a very limited shelf life. I've known people who've come back back from the dead - who have been clinically dead and were resuscitated, and their stories range from seeing a literal flaming hell, as was the case with my Father, to experiencing absolute nothingness until they were revived.
The condition of never waking up is unimaginable to me. Life as we comprehend it for each of us ends when we do. I've had people around me who passed away, and it struck me as being the single most life-changing event that anyone living being could ever face. It reinforces the universal truth that life can end in the twinkling of an eye.
Labels: Death, intangible, nothingness
posted by Ikiryou at 9:55:00 PM
2 Comments:
What you experienced sounds more like a description of "hell"--and it's not a place of fiery brimstone like Christians proclaim it to be, but true hell, which is not a physical place, but within. Nothingness and darkness and fear.
The idea of no longer "existing" used to keep me awake in bed when I was little. And to this day, every now and then, I still get a little twinge of fear and it enters my mind again... the thought of nothingness...of the utter end of my perceived consciousness.
However, out of body experiences and astral projection shed positive light on the existence of consciousness existing outside of the restrictions of the physical body.
Speaking of hell within, I kind of want to segway into an idea about the correlations between personal demons and "demonic possessions".
All exists on the outside, as within. If we do not confront our personal demons--acknowledge their existence--they will become stronger in the subconscious and can manifest as dark entities. Some may call these "evil spirits" or "demons", and they may need to be exorcised, through physical rituals, in order to focus and believe--to release their negative energies. The more dramatic, the better for the psyche. Because it makes it REAL and gives it MEANING. Are all of these cases metaphors? Metaphors that are physically manifested to get a point across to us that we just aren't getting?
I'm no demonologist, so I have no idea about the specifics of what demons are literally defined as, but that's what it means to me. People need everything to fit a context. Just like the book of revelation... its immense symbolism had to provide a frame of reference for people to grasp the concepts within.
I totally concur with your interpretation of [metaphorical]personal demons. They may not possess wings, horns and sharp claws, but they can still cut you up inside and make their way outside to even more damage. Even emotions like jealousy, lust [in a negative correlation when it comes to material possessions], fear can be as bad as any drug or hellspawned hoary host.
I'm not so certain it was hell I saw in my dream, though your definition fits the bill. I would most compare what I experienced to everything I've ever read concerning black holes. A total void, with everything "existing" at its core forever being compacted down to infinitesimal bits of its molecular composition. A form of entropy. When I think back to that moment, it was as if my mind was 'touching' blackness. Waking in panicked terror is certainly cold comfort, but I'm rather glad that I did wake up, at least.
I've read of people capable of astral projection - Yram in particular - but until I experience it for myself, I cannot really make any comments on the subject. It seems to be a practice which would require a lot of study and natural apptitude.
Post a Comment
<< Home