“There is a place inside you where time has never begun. And it never ends.”
The Dream That Felt More Real
When Heva opened his eyes, he was surrounded by color—not the kind you name or replicate, but the kind that lives between words. There was no sun above him, yet everything glowed. A soft light pulsed from nowhere and everywhere, not warming his skin but warming something beneath it.
Where am I?
But the thought faded as quickly as it came, like a bird that decides not to land.
There was no when in this place. Heva simply was.
And that was enough.
Being Without Becoming
Heva began walking, though there was nowhere to go. Each step didn’t take him forward, but instead deeper into presence. There were other beings here—shapes, flowing with the air, smiling not with lips but with presence.
They didn’t speak, but he understood:
“You are finally awake.”
He should have asked questions. Why am I here? What is this place?
But he felt no need. The questions were answered not with words, but with knowing. This was a timeless universe. There was no death here, because there had never been birth. No transactions, because nothing was ever missing. No sadness, because there was nothing to compare joy against.
No Time, No Money, No Anxiety
- There were no minutes ticking by.
- No jobs, no currencies, no ambitions.
- Only being.
No one worried. No one needed to “achieve” anything. People moved—or didn’t. They created—or simply observed. The river beside him sang a tune without rhythm, a song with no beginning.
Heva remembered how, in his other life, everything was a chase. A to B. Birth to death. Earning to spending. Doing to resting.
But here, rest was the default.
“You were not born. You are being dreamt into stillness.”
A Sudden Pull—The Shattering
Then it happened.
A tug—not from outside, but deep within his awareness. Like the anchor of another reality demanding his return.
Heva tried to stay. Please, just a little longer…
But the light around him began to stutter. The beings began to dissolve, like smoke drifting backwards into the mouths of candles.
Heva felt a thought—but it was foreign.
A concept from the other side.
“Work.”
The Return
He opened his eyes.
The ceiling. The clock. The weight of a body. The grip of linearity.
His heart sank.
Tears came—not from pain, but from a sense of having lost something true. The world around him felt… wrong. Rigid. Loud. Full of measurement and worry.
“What if that wasn’t a dream?”
The memory remained—not just in his mind, but in his soul. And the question echoed louder than ever:
What if this world is the illusion… and that one is home?
A Final Thought That Haunts Him Still
Heva spends his days now in a quiet search—not for wealth, not for purpose, but for a crack in this reality. A return path to the world where presence was all that existed.
He dreams not of escape, but of remembering.
Because if you’ve once lived in the Forever Moment, no other moment will ever feel quite right again.
