I can see all there is to see
But I'm blind to my fate,
To what may come.
I think I'm awake
But stealing upon me
Like the frost in the night
I neither see nor notice the moment when it comes
Light is what I look for.
I want to be conscious,
Aware of what happens now
And what happened then.
You feel like a bewildered entomologist
Who now and then encounters true and original experiences,
But many times discovers that it has all been false.
Who lays down the rules?
My knowledge points at the Self,
So it isn't strange at all that you think you know
And mistrust your experiences at the same time
When later you get it in perspective and are able to investigate.
But I must put the question:
Is this true?
To what degree are you and I affected by everything around?
To get a clear picture of yourself
You must of course have others
Who can bandy back your ideas to you,
Make contradictions and attack you from angles
You didn't know existed.
But I ask myself the question if there was none
With any other opinions than yours
Would you say you could be awake then?
You wouldn't see the whole world
Nor be aware of anything beside yourself,
But that would naturally seem the total reality.
This way of thought might veil over the truth
And make you blind.
You ask maybe where in the world you are and what you do,
But to discuss the question with yourself
Might reveal which way you took and which you didn't choose.
Best of all would be to find the keys to the treasury of wisdom,
But would that make life better...?
All your experiences of life tell you
That each man wherever he is has his own worries to fight.
The keys to the treasury of wisdom
Will never be found, because it would mean
You would become totally enlighted, lonely
And independent of everybody.
So what would then be the meaning of life?
When life is the one and only thing we own
And once again the questions asked
Create more questions still.
Maybe all the answers will come
When we have left this earth and enter
What is there beoynd.
That will probably be experienced
As different as we are different from one another
And due to who and when it happens.
But the answer to the questions must be waiting for you there,
For if there are no answers
How is it possible that we should puzzle over them here?
Contemplations Along The Way Lyrics