We Don't Need Our Eyes To See...

After waking once more from an episode of sleep paralysis, a thought occurred to me. In the past, I have woken from a dream unable to move or speak for a matter of minutes and have found this terrifying. I now recognize it when it occurs and know that the sooner I relax, the sooner I will wake up.

What I discovered is this: While I am experiencing this phenomenon, others in the room report that for those few minutes between dreaming and awakening, my eyes are closed -- even though I can see around the room perfectly well. I can identify people and objects as if I had my eyes open. In the past I've even been able to sit up and look around the room and then "wake up" to find myself still laying down beside another who reports that I was laying down the whole time.

The thought dawned on me -- I do not believe we need our eyes to see.

We are all co-authors of this dancing exuberance, for even our inabilities are having a roast. We are the authors of ourselves, co-authoring a gigantic Dostoevsky novel starring clowns. This entire thing we're involved with called the world is an opportunity to exhibit how exciting alienation can be. Life is a matter of a miracle that is collected over time by moments flabbergasted to be in each others' presence. The world is an exam, to see if we can rise into the direct experiences. Our eyesight is here as a test, to see if we can see beyond it. Matter is here as a test for our curiosity. Doubt is here as an exam for our vitality. Thomas Mann wrote that he would rather participate in life than write a hundred stories. Giacometti was once run down by a car, and he recalled falling into a lucid faint - a sudden exhilaration as he realized at last, something was happening to him.
- Waking Life, Scene 25