Awakening.
Little Will is what my grandfather always used to call me. He started it when I was four or five and still actually quite little, but he kept doing it til he disappeared three years ago - I was 28 at the time, and hardly little. but Little Will it was. "Little Will," he'd say. "Little Will, listen to me. The secret to life, the secret to everything, you know what it is? Do you?" Of course I didn't; who does?
IndentTurns out he did.
Indent"Sleep," he'd say. "Sleep is the secret to every single thing out there." As you can imagine, I always thought my grandfather was ever so slightly loony. But he'd insist. "Master the secret of sleep, and you will become a God, Little Will," he'd say. Of course, at six or seven years old, what did I know about being a God? All I knew was that my buddies at school would laugh at me if I showed up in a robe and with a beard.
IndentIt wasn't til I was 15 that he started telling me more about this strange philosophy of his. "Technically, it's not sleep that's the key, it's those seconds before you sleep," he'd tell me. "Those precious few moments, when you're hovering between worlds, not awake nor asleep, conscious but not, it is in that place where all knowledge is stored." You'll understand that, at that stage in my life, I didn't really enjoy sitting next to my grandfather at family meals.
IndentChristmas, almost a decade ago. I was 21. My grandfather and I ended up in the corner of a family-packed living room. He put his bony hand on my knee, and looked at me intensely. It was awkward. "Every answer to every question, Little Will," he said, like he continued a conversation we never actually had. "Where do we come from? Where are we going? Why are we here? All answered." His eyes were shining. I decided it was time to get everyone a drink.
IndentA few months before he disappeared I decided to humour him when he started rambling about his discovery again. I asked him to explain it to me. And he did. "Can you ever remember that last second before you dose off. What you were thinking, what position you were in? I'll bet you you can't." I had to give him that, he was right. "You know why?" he asked. I didn't. "Because, Little Will, that is the moment your body surrenders itself to your mind, and your mind's eye opens wide, if only for a fraction of a second." I told him to carry on.
Indent"In that instant, you know everything. Every thing." I nodded. "You're not listening, Little Will. In that instant, you are omniscient, omnipotent even. You are, in effect, a God. A supreme being." I was getting uncomfortable, but I wanted to sit this through, if only for him to get it out of his system. "Problem is, you forget," he then said. "A deep understanding of every aspect of the universe, a perception of every dimension, and an awareness of every single possibility ..." He paused. Perhaps he was truly overwhelmed, but I think he did it for effect. "... and you forget." He gave me a penetrating look. "The secret, Will, is remembering. Remember, and you can be anything. Remember, and you are everything. Remember, and you shall walk among Gods."
IndentSeveral weeks later he was gone. I'd put him to bed myself, the night before, but the following morning his bed was empty. His dentures were still there, as were his glasses. His walking stick hanging from the head board of his bed, and his slippers untouched. No one ever saw him again.
IndentI realise that he was an insane old man. I realise that he could have just woken up, all confused, and stumbled off into the night, as the elderly tend to do every now and again. I realise he may simply be dead. But I don't believe that. I refuse to. I think I'm the grandchild of a newborn God. But I need to know for sure.
IndentSo, off to bed I go.
IndentTurns out he did.
Indent"Sleep," he'd say. "Sleep is the secret to every single thing out there." As you can imagine, I always thought my grandfather was ever so slightly loony. But he'd insist. "Master the secret of sleep, and you will become a God, Little Will," he'd say. Of course, at six or seven years old, what did I know about being a God? All I knew was that my buddies at school would laugh at me if I showed up in a robe and with a beard.
IndentIt wasn't til I was 15 that he started telling me more about this strange philosophy of his. "Technically, it's not sleep that's the key, it's those seconds before you sleep," he'd tell me. "Those precious few moments, when you're hovering between worlds, not awake nor asleep, conscious but not, it is in that place where all knowledge is stored." You'll understand that, at that stage in my life, I didn't really enjoy sitting next to my grandfather at family meals.
IndentChristmas, almost a decade ago. I was 21. My grandfather and I ended up in the corner of a family-packed living room. He put his bony hand on my knee, and looked at me intensely. It was awkward. "Every answer to every question, Little Will," he said, like he continued a conversation we never actually had. "Where do we come from? Where are we going? Why are we here? All answered." His eyes were shining. I decided it was time to get everyone a drink.
IndentA few months before he disappeared I decided to humour him when he started rambling about his discovery again. I asked him to explain it to me. And he did. "Can you ever remember that last second before you dose off. What you were thinking, what position you were in? I'll bet you you can't." I had to give him that, he was right. "You know why?" he asked. I didn't. "Because, Little Will, that is the moment your body surrenders itself to your mind, and your mind's eye opens wide, if only for a fraction of a second." I told him to carry on.
Indent"In that instant, you know everything. Every thing." I nodded. "You're not listening, Little Will. In that instant, you are omniscient, omnipotent even. You are, in effect, a God. A supreme being." I was getting uncomfortable, but I wanted to sit this through, if only for him to get it out of his system. "Problem is, you forget," he then said. "A deep understanding of every aspect of the universe, a perception of every dimension, and an awareness of every single possibility ..." He paused. Perhaps he was truly overwhelmed, but I think he did it for effect. "... and you forget." He gave me a penetrating look. "The secret, Will, is remembering. Remember, and you can be anything. Remember, and you are everything. Remember, and you shall walk among Gods."
IndentSeveral weeks later he was gone. I'd put him to bed myself, the night before, but the following morning his bed was empty. His dentures were still there, as were his glasses. His walking stick hanging from the head board of his bed, and his slippers untouched. No one ever saw him again.
IndentI realise that he was an insane old man. I realise that he could have just woken up, all confused, and stumbled off into the night, as the elderly tend to do every now and again. I realise he may simply be dead. But I don't believe that. I refuse to. I think I'm the grandchild of a newborn God. But I need to know for sure.
IndentSo, off to bed I go.