Awakening

We’ve all heard the word awakening.

It sounds noble, mysterious, even a little intimidating. As if one day, a cosmic alarm clock will ring and we’ll all sit up in bed shouting, “I get it now!”

But what is it really?

Do we wake up when we die?

Is it a feeling, a sudden flash, or a long, slow process that starts when we least expect it, maybe while doing the dishes or driving our car?

Let’s start simple. The word awakening itself already gives it away: if we ‘wake up’, we must have been asleep. And A Course in Miracles says exactly that. We are dreaming. Not metaphorically, but quite literally. The world we see, the body we call “me,” the drama, the news, the heartbreak… all part of a collective dream of separation.

The good news? We’re safe in bed the whole time.

The Course doesn’t tell us to hate the dream or to deny it. It invites us to see through it… to look gently at the illusion and say, “Oh right, this isn’t the real me.”

So what is awakening then?

It’s the moment you realize you’re not the dream character who’s struggling to survive. You’re the dreamer… the mind that made it all up. And when that realization deepens, something soft happens. You stop fighting shadows. You stop taking the movie so seriously. You still play your part, you still pay your bills and brush your teeth, but now you do it with a quiet smile, knowing the screen doesn’t define you.

Buddhists describe this awakening beautifully too. They call it the recognition of emptiness… not a depressing emptiness, but a luminous one. Everything arises, everything passes, and the Awareness watching it never changes. That Awareness is what we are.

In ACIM terms, this Awareness is the Christ Mind, the part of us that never fell asleep in God. Awakening is simply remembering That.

Is it a process or an instant?

Both. The instant of awakening… the holy instant… is always now. But the acceptance of it often feels like a process, because the sleeping mind loves to hit the snooze button. “Just one more dream, please.”

Can you wake up a little? Not really. You can have glimpses… moments of peace, laughter, stillness… that show you what’s real. But once you taste the truth, even for a second, you’ll never be fully satisfied with dreaming again.

So why does it seem so hard? Because we still believe the dream offers something we want. We’re attached to our favorite scenes… our stories, our grievances, our heroes and villains. Yet every disappointment, every heartbreak, every time we say “There must be another way,” is the alarm clock gently ringing again.

And that’s the miracle: awakening doesn’t happen after life, it happens in life. Right here, right now, while peeling potatoes, laughing with a friend, or forgiving someone who forgot your birthday.

How do we reach that moment… realizing we are not the dream character?

It’s much simpler than the mind believes. Awakening isn’t a spectacular event, it’s a gentle shift of perspective… a quiet remembering of who you are.

We start to notice the movie instead of losing ourselves in it.

Someone criticizes you, and instead of reacting, you suddenly observe: “Oh… look at that feeling.”

That silent noticing is already a step outside the dream. The observer in us is not the one who feels hurt… it’s the one who sees.

We try to smile at the ego without judgment… instead of getting defensive or dramatic or feeling guilt… there’s humor: “Ah, there I go again.”

Then we start realizing that the “me” trying so hard to be right or safe is just a character in the play.

Imagine we’re doing nothing special… watching the sky, drinking tea, or hearing a child laugh… and suddenly there’s a soft stillness.

That’s the holy instant the Course speaks of: a moment when we rest as pure Awareness, without past or future.

But we have to see the dream as a classroom, not a punishment.

By doing this, everything that happens becomes a lesson in love and forgiveness.

We stop asking, “Why is this happening to me?” and begin to ask, “What is this showing me?”

The ego doesn’t awaken… it fades away.

Each time we stop defending, judging, or controlling, we open the door to peace.

As the Course says, “I need do nothing.”

And one day, quite naturally, the dream character looks up and laughs:

“He he… finally I’m awake.”

With love and light,

G.