What Keeps a Human Being Awake?
Sleep is a unique human state that differs from all other states of consciousness experienced by a person. Its effect is not limited to restoring physical energy; rather, it grants the individual a profound sense of being able to resume life from a new starting point. With every awakening, a person appears as though they have been given a new opportunity, as though what has passed is no longer binding upon them to the same extent that it was before sleep. From this perspective, it can be said that sleep, in its essence, carries the meaning of "starting over," even if most people are unable to express this meaning consciously.
From this idea emerges a central question: What keeps a human being awake? The hypothesis proposed here is that the deepest cause of persistent wakefulness is not merely a sleep disorder, but a condition that may be called "the trauma of refusing to start over." It is a trauma that many people may live with without realizing its existence. It prevents them from entering the natural state of sleep because sleep, in its essence, carries the meaning of returning to a new beginning, while they reject this return at a deep psychological level.
A person who carries this trauma does not reject sleep alone; rather, they tend to avoid everything that carries the meaning of a new beginning. They hesitate before any experience, practice, project, or change that suggests they must start again, as though the very idea of beginning has become associated with pain or loss.
According to this conception, this rejection stems from previous negative experiences. A person does not refuse to start over unless their past experience has left a painful mark within them. Thus, refraining from a new beginning becomes an unconscious means of avoiding the possibility of repeating suffering. Consequently, rejecting a new beginning turns into a defensive mechanism that attempts to protect the individual from reproducing the pain they experienced in the past.
Perhaps the clearest expression of this condition is the rejection of sleep itself. Sleep not only grants a person rest, but also reduces the presence of yesterday's events in consciousness. Many events that seem overwhelming before sleep become less present after awakening, and even if they are not completely forgotten, their emotional intensity noticeably diminishes. This is why a person feels after sleeping as though they have returned to life anew, or as though they have been resurrected, since the past becomes less dominant over their consciousness.
The traumatized person, however, resists this process. They do not wish the intensity of the past to diminish, nor do they want to lose their complete recollection of what happened, because their memory has become tied to their psychological wound. Consequently, sleep appears to them as though it were a threat to their memory more than a means of rest.
From here emerges the relationship between trauma and forgetting. According to this conception, the traumatized person always suffers from a problem with forgetting, because forgetting, for them, is not merely a weakness of memory; rather, it is something they do not allow themselves in the first place. It is as though the traumatized individual lives in a state of continuous wakefulness that preserves the details of the painful experience and prevents them from fading away.
Contrary to the common view that considers forgetting a deficiency or a flaw, forgetting is presented here as a human luxury. The ability to move beyond events that have exhausted a person, and to grant oneself another opportunity without remaining imprisoned by what happened, is a blessing that not everyone possesses.
To clarify this idea, imagine a person who failed at something, and someone said to them: "Don't worry. You can start again, and consider what happened a moment ago as part of the past." Such a situation grants a person a broad space of liberation because it allows them to forget the impact of failure and resume the attempt without remaining captive to their previous experience. This ability to forget is not weakness; rather, it is a form of psychological abundance that enables a person to continue living.
The traumatized person, however, is deprived of this abundance because they cling to their story to such an extent that they are no longer able to view it as merely a story. This can be compared to someone watching a film or a play and becoming so immersed in it that they forget it is a performance, experiencing its events as though they were reality itself. This is what the traumatized person does with their experience: the event they went through becomes an absolute reality that cannot be transcended, and they lose sight of the fact that it is merely one chapter of their life rather than life in its entirety.
One of the clearest signs that reveal this trauma is that the person sees starting over as evidence of failure rather than an opportunity for renewal. A person who possesses the luxury of forgetting sees a new beginning as a blessing that enables them to continue their journey, whereas one who has lost this luxury considers returning to the beginning an admission of incapacity. Therefore, they reject it and cling to the old story no matter how painful it may be.
As time passes, the past becomes, in their eyes, the only possible truth, while every new story becomes nothing more than an illusion unworthy of being attempted. They treat their previous story as reality itself, even though it was never anything more than a story that formed and then settled into memory until it acquired the authority of reality.
From this perspective, it can be said that the reality a person lives today is nothing more than an old story that continued until it became familiar, while new stories are rejected because they have not yet become reality. Thus, the difference between reality and imagination is not a difference in nature, but a difference in time. Reality is an old story that has settled, while imagination is a story that has not yet been given the chance to begin.
The Traumatized Person as the Most Awake of Beings
If the trauma of refusing to start over makes a person a prisoner of the past, it also produces a distinctive form of wakefulness. The traumatized person is characterized not only by the strength of their memory, but also by a high degree of attentiveness and continuous recollection of what occurred. They live in a permanent state of wakefulness, as though the painful experience were still happening every moment.
From this perspective, it is proposed that the traumatized person is the one who remembers the most and is the most awake. A person who experiences a passing trauma may forget its details over time, whereas the person with a deep trauma becomes a permanent bearer of the memory of the event. They do everything in light of that event or in light of that trauma, to the point that they appear to carry the responsibility of remembering on behalf of everyone else.
This can even be observed in simple everyday situations. One person may accidentally bump into another and continue with their life without realizing the impact they left behind, while the second person keeps the incident in their memory for a long time. The one who caused the event may not even notice what happened, whereas the one who received the trauma remains far more mindful of it and far more awake toward it.
From here emerges another philosophical question: If trauma is what creates the wakefulness of the being, is wakefulness itself always a positive value? Or could it be the other face of trauma?
According to this conception, the greater the trauma, the greater the wakefulness; and the greater the wakefulness, the greater the attachment to the past. The traumatized person refuses to begin a new story and clings to the old one until it becomes their only world. As time passes, that story turns into a repository containing all of their glories, memories, victories, and failures. Yet at the same time, it becomes a story whose life has ended, no longer capable of growth or renewal.
Here a profound paradox appears. A person may attain great greatness through the power of their memory and wakefulness, yet at the same time remain trapped inside a story that has died and ended. They appear great, but it is a greatness that has lost its ability to live. It is as though they survived an event but did not truly survive, or as though they reached the future while continuing to live in the past.
From this paradox emerges a concept that may be called "dead greatness." It is the condition in which experiences, memories, and achievements accumulate within a single being, yet lose their ability to produce new beginnings. Thus, the past becomes a source of strength and, at the same time, a source of incapacity.
Greatness as an Effect of Trauma
This conception then moves from the human being to the universe as a whole, proposing a broader hypothesis: the greatness of beings may be connected to the degree of trauma they have undergone.
If the previous method of interpreting wakefulness is adopted, then an increase in the greatness of a being indicates an increase in the amount of trauma hidden within it. The great being is the most awake, the most awake is the one who remembers the most, and the one who remembers the most is the one who carries within themselves a longer history of experiences and events.
Greatness here does not refer to one specific meaning, but to a broad concept encompassing every form of power, influence, or existential fullness. The more influential a being becomes and the more its capacities expand, the more this indicates—according to this view—that its memory has become denser and that its wakefulness has reached a higher level.
Memory and DNA
To clarify this idea, the conception moves to an example drawn from biology: deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA).
DNA represents a record that carries the instructions and fundamental functions of a living organism, as though it were a written memory that determines the manner of its existence. Within it exists the information that determines the shape of the eye, the extent of its ability to see, the range of frequencies that the ear can hear, and all the other biological characteristics that constitute the identity of the organism.
Thus, DNA becomes analogous to a memory that determines what the organism is capable of perceiving from the world. A human being sees only within the limits permitted by their eyes, hears only within the range permitted by their ears, and perceives from the universe only what their biological structure allows.
If this structure is written in DNA, then the past inscribed within this biological memory becomes what defines the boundaries of the present and determines the image of the world in which the organism lives.
This does not mean neglecting the influence of the environment. Rather, the environment itself enters into this structure, for it may be viewed as a collection of influences that themselves carry other "memories" interacting with the memory of the organism. Human beings are influenced by other people, just as they are influenced by animals, plants, and all other elements of existence. These influences, however, are not separate from the general system; rather, they all enter into a vast network of mutual relationships.
Accordingly, what is called the environment is not viewed here as an element separate from memory, but rather as multiple memories interacting with one another, from which arise the form of the organism, its life, and its perception of the world.
Memory as the Cause of the Continuation of Life
If memory is what determines the functions of an organism, then the continuation of life itself becomes connected to the degree of preservation and remembrance. A human being retains the experiences of the past and preserves the self across time, and for this reason humanity has continued as a living species.
A broader conception is proposed here concerning the collective memory of humanity. According to this view, human society carries within its depths a long history of survival from extinction, as though humanity had repeatedly passed through experiences in which it came close to annihilation before returning once again to existence.
Hence, the collective memory of humanity appears broader than that of many other organisms because it stores a longer history of attempts at survival. For this reason, human beings remain more attached to the past and more capable of recalling it.
An open question is left here: Does this long history indicate that humanity has failed more than other beings because it has been forced to survive so many times? Or does it indicate that humanity possesses an exceptional abundance in the ability to return once again? This question is left unresolved, serving as an entry point for an independent philosophical reflection that extends beyond the scope of this study.
From Human Wakefulness to the Wakefulness of the Universe
After linking wakefulness to trauma and memory, the scope of the discussion expands to encompass existence as a whole. If the more a human being remembers, the more awake they become, can the universe also be understood through the same relationship? Can existence itself be viewed as varying degrees of wakefulness and dormancy?
This view begins from the hypothesis that beings originally existed in a state of dormancy, and that wakefulness is not the original prevailing condition but rather a limited exception that has interrupted the dormancy of beings.
Dormancy here does not refer to biological sleep as commonly understood. Rather, it refers to a state of existential latency; that is, a condition in which potential is present while action remains deferred. Latent existence exists in potentiality, but it has not yet become actual existence.
From here another hypothesis is proposed: If most universes are in a state of dormancy, what transfers them from this stillness into wakefulness?
Trauma as the Condition for Awakening
According to this conception, the universe does not move from dormancy to wakefulness except through trauma. Trauma is the event that breaks the original state of stillness and brings potential out of its latency into actuality.
The greater the trauma, the greater the degree of wakefulness produced by it. Awakening is therefore not an automatic process, but the result of an event that shakes the dormant structure and compels it to enter a new state of awareness.
The next question then becomes even more important: What is capable of producing this trauma?
This proposal argues that what awakens the universe is not any passing event, but rather the ancientness of the story. The older and deeper the story, the greater its ability to awaken that which is immersed in dormancy. Ancientness here is not merely a temporal dimension, but an existential power capable of calling awareness forth from the depths of latency.
For this reason, the oldest story is described as the primary source of every awakening. It is not an ordinary story, but the origin of all the stories that came after it. Consequently, it possesses a unique ability to bring existence out of its original state.
Within this context, this story is connected to what is commonly called the Creator, not as a person or a specific image, but as the title of the first story, or of the origin from which all subsequent events branched out.
Cosmic Memory
To explain this idea, another analogy is employed based on the existence of a great cosmic record, as though it were a book containing everything that had previously occurred. This record represents the supreme memory upon which subsequent events rely, so that events do not arise out of nothing but emerge from an earlier history preserved within this record.
Accordingly, memory becomes not merely a property of living organisms but a cosmic principle governing the formation of existence itself. Events appear only because they are grounded in a prior record, as though the universe continually rereads its own memory.
Opposed to this memory is the state of dormancy, which is the condition in which awareness of this record is absent. The dormant being does not perceive the origin of events, nor the writer, nor the story, nor the memory from which things emerged. Consequently, its existence appears to it as though separated from everything that preceded it.
Thus, dormancy is not an individual isolation but the prevailing condition of most existence. According to this view, the universe resembles a vast village overcome by sleep, where most beings remain in a state of inactivity until awakened by an external event.
The Image of the Sleeping Universe
To make this idea more accessible, a symbolic example is presented. Imagine a person entering a village and finding everything asleep: the birds, the cats, the dogs, and all other creatures. Any attempt to awaken one of them would lead to a chain of successive awakenings until awareness spread throughout the entire village.
Yet this first awakening is not always peaceful. It may be accompanied by fear and disturbance because the awakened being suddenly finds itself torn away from the state of stillness in which it had been living.
From here, trauma is linked with awakening, and wakefulness is understood as a transition that may be as painful as it is revealing.
The Beginning of the "Bad Creator" Hypothesis
After this introduction, the conception proceeds to construct a temporary philosophical hypothesis. It is not presented as a final truth, but rather as a possibility intended to help examine the intellectual consequences that follow from it.
This hypothesis begins by distinguishing between two symbolic models of creation.
The first is the bad creator, by which is meant the agent who awakens a being from its dormancy in order to cast it into suffering and trauma. Such an agent does not respect the being's need for stillness but removes it from its rest and throws it into a painful experience.
To clarify this image, consider the example of a person who wishes to sleep and instructs everyone not to wake them under any circumstances. Nevertheless, someone calls them over the most trivial matter despite fully knowing their desire to rest. The disturbance here does not arise from necessity but from a deliberate disregard for the other's wish, and thus becomes the cause of ruining the entire day.
Within this hypothesis, this example represents the symbolic image of negative trauma: trauma that awakens the being not in order to expand its awareness, but in order to deprive it of its tranquility and cause it to carry the trace of that disturbance in its memory for a long time.
Accordingly, this conception distinguishes between two kinds of trauma.
The first is positive trauma, such as when a person is unexpectedly confronted with beauty that opens before them a new horizon of perception. This type does not fall within the subject of the present study.
The second is negative trauma, which invades a person's tranquility and plants within their memory a painful imprint that continues to shape their view of the world. Thus, the past becomes a force that governs the present and keeps the person awake despite their need for rest.
Accordingly, within this hypothesis, the bad creator becomes a symbol for every force that awakens a being in order to increase its suffering. This will later prepare the way for the discussion of another hypothesis that is entirely different: the hypothesis of the One Creator, through which all of these conclusions will be reinterpreted from a different perspective.
The Hypothesis of the Bad Creator and the Good Creator
After establishing the relationship between trauma and wakefulness, a philosophical hypothesis is proposed based on distinguishing between two different models of creation. This hypothesis is not presented as the final conclusion of the study, but rather as an analytical tool for examining the nature of the relationship between awakening and existence.
According to this conception, the bad creator is represented by every agent who awakens a being from its dormancy, subjects it to trauma, and removes it from its stillness, making it a prisoner of pain and disturbance. Thus, in this model, wakefulness becomes a means of suffering rather than a means of knowledge.
The good creator, on the other hand, is one who awakens a being only if its awakening will lead it toward a meaning that does not corrupt its original relationship with tranquility. The aim is not merely to bring the being out of dormancy, but to preserve its right to return to peace without allowing wakefulness to become a permanent prison.
From this, it becomes evident that the difference between the two models does not lie in the act of awakening itself, but in the purpose toward which that awakening leads.
Dormancy as an Existential Right
In light of this hypothesis, dormancy is viewed as more than merely a biological condition; it is an existential state representing the being's right to exist outside the authority of continual summons.
A being living in dormancy carries no burden of memory, is not weighed down by the past, and is not compelled to respond constantly to events. However, when it is removed from this state without justification, it is thrust into a world of continuous remembrance, where it becomes incapable of recovering its original tranquility.
Accordingly, within this conception, the bad creator is the one who cannot leave the being in its dormancy because such a creator believes that forgetting is not something the creature deserves and that rest is not its inherent right. Awakening thus becomes an act of coercion imposed upon the being, forcing it into an experience it did not choose.
Trauma and Memory as a Mechanism for Producing Reality
If trauma prevents a return to dormancy, it also keeps the past continuously present. At this point, memory no longer functions merely as a means of preserving events but becomes the force that reproduces reality itself.
The traumatized person does not live through the event only once; rather, they continually relive it because their memory does not permit them to leave it behind. As mentioned in a previous article, the point to which one continually returns within one's story is the very point that created that story: the trauma. Thus, the new reality becomes an extension of the old reality rather than the result of a genuinely new experience.
From this perspective, the past is no longer a stage that has ended but becomes an active structure that continually reshapes the present and determines how a person receives everything that follows.
The Universe as a Prisoner of Wakefulness
The idea then expands to encompass the entire universe. If continuous wakefulness deprives the human being of tranquility, then a universe prevented from returning to dormancy likewise becomes a prisoner of a permanent state of activation.
Within this conception, most beings appear to have lost the ability to return to their original condition and have become governed by an unceasing movement. Continuation itself thus becomes a form of confinement because the being can no longer return to the origin from which it emerged.
Consequently, the true prison lies not in movement itself but in the impossibility of ceasing that movement.
The Problem of Incarnation
From this point, the discussion moves to the concept of incarnation.
If awakening compels the being to enter the world of action, incarnation represents the complete form of this entrance; namely, the transition from potentiality into a specific reality that imposes upon the being a particular form and definite limitations.
An idea previously presented elsewhere is introduced again: the rejection of incarnation does not always arise from rejecting existence itself but may instead be a rejection of the manner in which existence is imposed upon the being.
According to this conception, a being may reject being summoned into an experience it did not choose or being cast into a reality that it feels does not express its true nature. Thus, the rejection of incarnation becomes a continuation of the rejection of the first trauma that brought it out of dormancy.
Will and Creation
At this point, a new question emerges: if the being rejects entering incarnation, where did this rejection originate?
At first glance, it may appear that the being possesses an independent will by which it can resist creation. However, this assumption raises a logical problem: how can something that does not yet exist possess a will that precedes its own existence?
Here the first hypothesis begins to confront its own internal limits because speaking of an independent will prior to creation makes the relationship between creator and creature more complicated than it initially appears.
If the being, while in dormancy, possesses no actual will, then it cannot have resisted creation before it was created. Consequently, explaining unfortunate destinies as punishment for a prior resistance becomes an interpretation requiring reconsideration.
The Beginning of Revising the Hypothesis
At this point, the conception itself begins to revise its conclusions.
Instead of maintaining the duality of the bad creator and the good creator, another, more coherent possibility is proposed: that the Creator is one, and that all the previous difficulties arise from humanity's way of understanding creation rather than from the existence of two opposing creators.
This transition does not occur abruptly but results from an attempt to resolve the contradiction that emerged concerning the question of will. If the being could not resist creation before its existence, then attributing evil to such resistance becomes insufficient to explain the experience.
From here begins the gradual transition toward a new hypothesis that views creation as one, and that what appears to be evil or good requires reinterpretation from within this unity rather than by dividing it into two opposing sources.
Thus, this first path of inquiry concludes not by proving the existence of two creators but by demonstrating that this duality was merely a temporary analytical stage whose own internal limits became evident, thereby preparing the way for a more comprehensive thesis: the thesis of the One Creator, through which the concepts of will, wakefulness, creation, evil, and existence itself will all be reconsidered.
The One Creator and the Reconstruction of the Concept of Creation
After the hypothesis of the bad creator and the good creator reaches its explanatory limits, the discussion proceeds to a more radical revision. Instead of explaining existence through two opposing sources, a new hypothesis is proposed asserting that the Creator is one, and that what previously appeared as a conflict between good and evil may arise from the limitations of perspective rather than from a plurality in the origin of creation.
This reconsideration begins with the question of will. If the being, in the dormant state preceding incarnation, possesses no independent will, how can it be said to have resisted creation and then been punished for that resistance? This objection exposes a weakness in the first hypothesis and prompts the search for another explanation of the relationship between Creator and creature.
Will as a Gift from the Creator
Within this new conception, the creature does not originally possess its own will but receives it together with the act of creation itself. Creation grants the being not only existence but also the capacity for will, perception, choice, and all the other faculties through which it becomes an active participant within the world.
Accordingly, will does not precede creation but is itself part of creation. Once it has been bestowed upon the creature, the creature becomes capable of directing it either toward harmony with the order of existence or toward resistance against it.
This conception therefore distinguishes between two different stages:
The stage of dormancy, in which there is no independent will and no independent action.
The stage of creation, in which the Creator grants the creature a portion of the capacity that enables it to act and choose.
On this basis, human resistance is not resistance prior to creation but rather the use of the will that was granted within the experience of creation itself.
Existence as Participation in the Act of Creation
If will is a gift from the Creator, then the human presence within the world is no longer merely passive but becomes a participation in the act of existence. The creature does not exist outside the experience of the Creator but exists within it, living through the capacity for perception and will that has been bestowed upon it.
Accordingly, reality, within this conception, is not a world separate from the Creator but a domain in which the effects of the act of creation gradually become manifest. Every human action is an exercise of the capacity deposited within the individual, whether that capacity is used in harmony with the purpose of creation or in a manner that departs from it.
Cosmic Memory and Reality
The discussion here returns to the previously introduced idea of the record, giving it a broader meaning. Reality is understood not as a series of isolated events but as a continuous writing in which events are organized within a single context.
According to this view, existence resembles an open text in which events unfold as lines unfold within a book. Every being exists not outside this text but as a line or chapter within it, making events interconnected rather than separate.
Consequently, the past never disappears from the present because the present itself is an extension of that record rather than a break from it.
Consciousness as Participation in the Creator's Vision
If the Creator has granted the creature a portion of will, then the Creator has likewise granted it a share in the capacity for perception. Consciousness is therefore understood not as a completely independent faculty but as a limited participation in a greater perception.
Every human being sees the world from a particular perspective and grasps only a portion of the truth, while the remaining perspectives remain beyond their field of vision. Thus, differences among human beings in their perception of reality do not necessarily indicate contradictions in truth itself but rather differences in their vantage points.
From this perspective, human consciousness is inherently limited, whereas the Creator, within the framework of this thesis, is attributed with comprehensive perception from which no aspect of existence is absent—that is, complete memory and the complete story.
From Multiplicity to Unity
A significant philosophical conclusion follows from this transition: evil is no longer interpreted as evidence of another creator competing with the first Creator but is instead reinterpreted within the framework of unity.
If the origin of existence is one, then what appears to human beings as deficiency or disorder does not require multiple sources of creation. Rather, it may result from the limited perception of the creature or from the manner in which the granted will is exercised.
Thus, the thesis moves from an explanation based on division to one grounded in unity without denying the existence of suffering or the questions associated with it. Instead, these are reintegrated into a philosophical structure that is more consistent with the hypothesis of the One Creator.
Human Consciousness and the Limits of Vision
This stage of the inquiry concludes by affirming that human beings, regardless of the extent of their knowledge, remain governed by the limits of their consciousness. Some individuals may perceive aspects of existence that others do not, but this does not mean they have attained complete comprehension. Rather, it indicates varying degrees of perception among human beings.
From here, the text opens the door to a broader possibility: if human beings can perceive matters hidden from others, then it is likewise possible that there exists a level of perception surpassing what humanity itself can attain. Thus, the limitations of human vision become a reason for epistemic humility rather than for claiming complete knowledge of the truths of existence.
On this basis, the inquiry moves from an attempt to explain trauma, sleep, and wakefulness toward a broader reflection on the nature of consciousness itself, the relationship between humanity and existence, and the limits of what the human mind is capable of perceiving in the world in which it lives.
From Symbolic Masculinity to the Concept of the One Creator
After the transition to the hypothesis of the One Creator, the text reexamines several concepts previously discussed, foremost among them the concept of masculinity. Whereas masculinity, in the first hypothesis, was associated with the creative act that imposes existence and awakens the being from dormancy, it now becomes a different concept. It is no longer identified with the Creator Himself but instead represents a limited image or partial imitation of the function of creation.
Accordingly, the text distinguishes between two different levels:
The level of the One Creator, who cannot be reduced to any partial image.
The level of masculinity as a limited capacity for action and formation within the world.
This distinction changes the nature of moral and existential responsibility. If masculinity is not the absolute Creator, then it becomes subject to accountability because it exercises a limited action that may either accord with the overall order or deviate from it.
Masculinity as an Imitation Rather Than an Origin
The thesis argues that masculinity is not the absolute truth of creation but rather a limited image of it. It performs the function of formation, yet it does not encompass the complete reality from which existence proceeds.
Accordingly, error in formation, in the exercise of authority, or in the use of will is evidence of the limitations of this image rather than of any corruption in the origin of creation itself.
For this reason, the text affirms that evil does not proceed from the reality of creation itself but rather from the absence of its fullness within the limited manifestations that exercise the act of formation in the world.
The Shadow of Masculinity and the Source of Evil
The shadow of masculinity is the condition of absence, deficiency, or separation from the origin from which masculinity derives its meaning. The further this limited capacity moves away from the origin upon which it depends, the more the effects of disorder and imbalance appear. If we say that the Creator is the greatest story, then He is the greatest masculinity, and human masculinity imitates the Creator's masculinity—that is, His memory. From this, we see that moving away from the Creator's memory is moving away from the origin.
Thus, evil does not become a force existing in itself, but rather the result of the loss of complete presence or of the severing of the connection with the source that grants action its balance.
Accordingly, masculinity, in this symbolic sense, always exists between two possibilities:
To be the means through which order is realized.
Or to become the cause of chaos if it becomes separated from the origin from which it derives its legitimacy.
From One Masculinity to Another
One of the most distinctive ideas in the text is the assertion that a human being should not remain imprisoned within a single form of action but should continually move from one level to a higher one.
For this reason, the text states that remaining within a single form of masculinity is failure. Since the human being was created within the Creator's story, or within the Creator's memory, the human being must, each time, increase their imitation of the Creator's memory and move from one memory to a greater memory, rather than stopping at the limits of a single memory and believing it to be the end.
True growth is therefore achieved through continual transition from one rank to another, so that existence itself becomes an uninterrupted journey through successive forms of perception and action rather than permanent residence within a single form.
Accordingly, reality becomes a continuous series of passages rather than a final destination.
The Creator as Complete Presence
In contrast to limited masculinity, the text presents the Creator as a presence that knows no absence.
The essential difference between the two is that limited masculinity may be absent from certain places, whereas no such absence can be conceived of with regard to the Creator.
For this reason, deficiency cannot be attributed to Him, since deficiency appears only where there is emptiness or interruption, whereas the Creator—within the framework of this view—is present in every aspect of existence.
Thus, the idea of the shadow belongs only to limited beings and not to the First Principle from whom nothing is outside.
Reinterpreting the Rejection of Incarnation
Following this transition, the thesis returns to the concept of rejecting incarnation, which had initially been connected with rejecting the act of starting over.
Here, however, the meaning changes significantly.
At first, the rejection of incarnation was interpreted as an effect of trauma, whereby the human being refuses to enter a new experience out of fear of repeating pain.
After adopting the hypothesis of the One Creator, however, the rejection of incarnation acquires a different significance. It may become the rejection of a false form of incarnation, or the rejection of a false memory that does not rise to the authenticity of the Creator's memory, or the rejection of submission to an incomplete formation that does not reflect the complete truth.
Accordingly, rejection is not negative in every case. Rather, it may be a critical step preceding the attainment of a truer form of existence.
Dormancy and Wakefulness in Light of the New Vision
The relationship between dormancy and wakefulness is thus reinterpreted.
At the beginning of the study, dormancy represented rest, forgetting, and the possibility of starting anew, whereas wakefulness was associated with trauma, remembrance, and imprisonment within the past.
At this stage, however, the matter becomes more complex.
Returning to dormancy comes to mean fleeing from memory, from consciousness—that is, failure within the experience.
The Creator and Complete Consciousness
The text ultimately reaches its highest level of abstraction by linking the Creator with complete consciousness.
A human being perceives only a limited portion of the world and gradually discovers that there are things that had previously remained hidden from them.
This very discovery becomes evidence of the limitations of their own vision.
From here, the text proposes the philosophical possibility that the existence of one who sees more than we do is not improbable but rather a logical consequence of the varying degrees of perception.
Accordingly, within this vision, the Creator becomes the summit of consciousness of existence—not merely because He imposes consciousness upon beings, but because He encompasses all possibilities, all events, and all possibilities that have been realized as well as those that could have been realized.
For this reason, His presence is likened to a presence untouched by deficiency, from which no possibility is absent, and from which no aspect of existence is hidden.
Conclusion: What Keeps a Human Being Awake?
The thesis concludes by returning to the question with which it began:
What keeps a human being awake?
The answer is that everything that keeps a human being awake is the Creator, or the Creator is what keeps a human being awake.
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