In this incantation, I realize that time and space are born from my own acceptance of being here; they radiate outward from the core of my existence. By withdrawing my attention and ceasing to project outward, I can fold space and time back into myself, returning to the premoment where nothing yet unfolds. Everything I experience—people, places, emotions—is simply fragments of my own being rendered into form. To stop time, I must stop conjuring these fragments, pulling them back inward through stillness and inner silence. That’s how I return to the timeless core that is always here.
Time and space are both descendents of my initial acceptance that I am here. I cannot yet see the precise inceptional moment where my premoment becomes my moment, but it is at that point where time and space begin because I accept the premise that I exist at this point in time at this point in space. My acceptance of my condition — my personhood — is the pretext for the existence of time and space.
I do not have to wait until I asleepen and then awaken again to experience this. I can return to my premoment right now, in my moment, because, like a core radiating my experience outward, it is always here inside, at my core. It is not a point on a linear or circular timeline I must wait to achieve. It certainly is easier when I am just awakening, but is not mandatory. I can return to my premoment now if I choose. Naturally, it is easier upon awakening as my projection is at its weakest.
Time and space are radial; I am their source. Everything that I experience in either time or space originates within me. I can fold them back up by withdrawing my radiating projection: by closing my eyes and not moving, space folds back up. By centering and nothing remembering, wanting, or imagining, time folds back up. That’s it. That is all that I am. That is all that this awakening full of experiences is. It is me unfolding all of my dark flesh into the light flesh I experience as life.
I need to remember that everything I experience when I awaken is a bit of my flesh torn, rendered, and formed. All of the people. All of the places. All of the thoughts. All of it is just little bits and pieces of myself. Even the bad stuff. The terrifying stuff. All the good stuff. The masculine and feminine stuff. My parents and brothers and friends and customers and clients and neighbors. All of them are my own flesh rendered into these dancing objects. If I close my eyes and bring them all back within me I can stop them from multiplying. I must not cast them out, conjure them. I must bring my conversations with them closer. Into my head.
To stop space and time I must close my eyes and stop believing that I am here at this time and at this place. I must know that I am not actually here. And that outside my closed eyes is nothing. That what exists is what I experience, and there is nothing beyond my experience. If I could zoom out, existence would be the shape of my own experience across all of its dimensions; there is nothing else beyond my experience. This is it. I am all there is, and I can return right now if I remember how… I just have to remember how to withdraw back… remember and actually believe that nothing visual exists until I open my eyes. And nothing chronological exists unless I think about it. There are no people if I do not create them. Stopping time and space is escaping from time and space. I must simply remember that none of it is here unless I create it.
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