Lifestyles of the "Rich" and Nonexistent

Paging Robin Leach.

I woke up like this.

There’s a moment upon waking, just a succession of heartbeats, where I simply am. There is no recollection of the person I am and no world in which that entity resides. There are no thoughts as yet that comprise the decision making of this person, no trivialities of making a way in the world. There is only being, where the spaciousness of consciousness is the pervading occurance and what I am is existing as an unthought known. These brief moments, held in the equanimity of unbeing, are the substance of true peace where, roused from the unconscious oblivion of deep sleep, presence resurfaces but is not yet tied to being human. 

At first glimpse of such peace, a mind game commences: how to get more of it—the vague witness attempts to see how long the no-mind of presence can be maintained before “I” again occur to myself; a fools errand. Quite obviously, the one who plays this game inevitably presents herself at the moment of its commencement and the game is over. There’s no way to capture more time within the unthought known, for time is a consequence of knowing and this experience of true peace is the state prior to the knower. One can only be this state without knowing.