It is the dawn of the day. Your eyes open. Your mind tries to grasp the last images of a dream, but it is just a glimpse. You feel a duty to rise from bed, but there is a desire to indulge under the warm blanket and rest more. You are transitioning from the first state (sleep) to the second (your active life).
Almost every day, we rise and function. A stream of thoughts runs in our mind, but then breakfast takes over. Still the stream continues, interfering with the ability to fully enjoy the meal.
In the second state, we do things. We work, love, and suffer. The perception of time running onward forces us to act. Our desires cease; we follow duties. Driven by outside events and by our own impulses, we decide one thing and do another. We float like a cork in a turbulent river, but believe that we are acting, we are doing.
Occasionally, the river stops. Time slows to a crawl. Everything is in slow motion, and no thoughts are running. Minute details of simple movements are seen as we have never observed them before. It does not last long, but it is a recognizable experience. It fades away, overwhelmed by the further events of life. Still, it can be remembered, when the rest is forgotten. That is the third state.
This third state can be triggered by strong events, like our first kiss, or the seconds before a car accident, or the passing of an examination. Those experiences are short, and we cannot prolong them. Or can we? Those calm, otherworldly moments show the existence of other layers of existence, other dimensions. Our biological life flows from a fetus to a dying elderly person, like the spring of a mechanical clock. Only a different state reveals that it is not the only story.
Being outside of internal or external events shows who we really are: a child.
If left unattended, this child will starve, unable to grow. To grow is our responsibility. There are layers in the human being. Some cannot be used or accessed without effort. You cannot do math without studying. Talking with some elderly people, you can hear them talk about discovering something in themselves and realizing it is too late for them.
There is a decision to be made, if you want to prolong and extend the rare third-state occurrences. We need help from somebody who has already done so. We need direction and knowledge, but above all, effort. For effort generates being. As being grows, the third state occurs more frequently, surprisingly. The child awakens, looking at the world with different eyes. A simple object can be fascinating; the beauty of a flower is fulfilling.
The states have gradations, as you can observe in the transition from the first state to the second. At one point, it is possible to perceive different intensities in the third state and glimpse the fourth one.
At one point, in a deep state, a question arises:
“Who am I ?”
It is unsettling, but you have the level of being capable of abandoning who you are not.
Our higher centers are looking to claim the realm. Our ordinary perception of reality is subjective, relative, and perishable. The fourth state reveals all this illusion as an opportunity to enter the realm of creation. Time doesn’t exist there; you are no longer under the physical laws that constrain your body.
People rarely seem to achieve the fourth state in their lifetime. Some conscious beings have reported moments of the fourth state as a life-changing experience. It is in your grasp. It requires a lifetime commitment. Higher centers are a reality if you can awaken them, as they exist only in higher states. The light will shine at its own time, but only if you have charged the battery and polished the contacts.