Lately I awaken groggily from afternoon naps to the realization that I am not dead.
This happened for the first time a few weeks ago. I rummaged through fragments of dreams for context, but couldn’t find any. So I dismissed it as just one of those peculiar skips of consciousness that sometimes occur in the space between asleep and awake.
Then it happened again. Twice, three times. And when I awoke yesterday afternoon from a short nap, the thought: “I’m still here,” and the accompanying sensation of gratitude, had become familiar.
But so strange. To know one is alive, having never experienced being dead…