In those moments about falling asleep, I feel inundated with the most inspiring and stimulating ideas.
What the hell happens in these particular minutes (or even seconds, I do not even know) that my brain enters a tranced state, not fully asleep yet not fully awake, which allows the magic to unravel?!
I am not entirely asleep as I have some consciousness of what is happening, and I acknowledge experiencing a 'eureka' moment. But I am not completely awake neither because I am incapable of moving and acting.
I believe it is in that very precise moment and in that extraordinary intangible space (in that 'limbo') when this wonder occurs. It is all probably stimulated by the nature and fabric of the dreams themselves, magnifying, intensifying, making sense, providing meaning and purpose to all these concepts in my mind.
In most situations, I fall asleep. Nonetheless, I foolishly commit myself (and I am convinced in an utter manner that I will achieve it) to remember all those brilliant insights for the moment I wake up. I want to capture them and secure them for posterity. As you may have predicted: a catastrophic failure.
Anyhow, I try in vain to apprehend whatever residual of creative thoughts could be left, but I only seize a clumsy leftover of what it was, almost a joke. In part, I forget, and to some extent, because I lack the skill to put them into the right words. How frustrating!
I wonder if those ideas are meant to be exactly like that: momentary, free, unrestrained, and wild, like an elegant bird flying in the sky, a shooting star on a cloudless night, or a rampant sea wave on the verge of crashing.
The bird's grace befalls its rhythmical flying. The shooting star's beauty materializes in the illuminated trail left behind when it propels. The marvel of the wave relies on its unfolding growth and subsequent collapse.
Like those thoughts, movement is key. And it is just like that how they are supposed to be enjoyed and appreciated:
in motion.
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