Every night, without effort, without instruction, the self lets go. The name we answer to, the face we recognise in the mirror, the continuous narrative we call our life — all of it recedes into something we cannot control and cannot remember with any completeness. If a meditation teacher prescribed this practice — complete dissolution of the waking self, nightly, without exception — we would regard it as among the most advanced of contemplative disciplines. We call it sleep. The great wisdom traditions did not make this mistake. A new essay on the dream world as spiritual ground — now on Numinous Waves.