The recently concluded long All Souls Day weekend was a suitable opportunity for me to succumb to a long suppressed urge to fall into a stupor, where everything from the outside world ceases to matter and nothing else exists except the actual moment. To be caught in a dead spot, like a cellphone trapped in a signal-less cave, was paradoxically liberating. Isolation from the rest of the world unleashes parts of the self that have chronically stayed dormant, and inconceivable truths about the self suddenly become manifest, and the thought of what and who the self would evolve into becomes too frightening.
This brings to mind bits and pieces of the old stuff from pre-med days - Plato's Allegory of the Cave. What if everything that I have construed to be real is after all unreal? I imagine I'm a prisoner in a cave, staring at shadows on a wall, unaware that these are merely shadows and the real world is right behind me. Aargh! Too profound. My mind can't digest it now.
All I know now is this: I like this dead spot. The darkness and isolation of this cramped secret cranny brings comfort - that kind of comfort that comes from not trying to understand anything at all. While reality is a matter of debate, the moment is real. No signals from the outside world, no interferences of whatever kind - just me, the shadows cast on the wall, and the moment. Everyone deserves to stay in a cave once in a while. And even if it doesn't make any sense, I'll bask in this dead spot until I get kicked out, back into the real world again.