"I am part of the load

Not rightly balanced

I drop off in the grass,

like the old Cave-sleepers, to browse

wherever I fall.
For hundreds of thousands of years I have been dust-grains

floating and flying in the will of the air, often forgetting ever being

in that state, but in sleep

I migrate back. I spring loose

from the four-branched,

time -and-space cross,

this waiting room.
I walk into a huge pasture

I nurse the milk of millennia
Everyone does this in different ways.

Knowing that conscious decisions

and personal memory

are much too small a place to live,

every human being streams at night

into the loving nowhere, or during the day,

in some absorbing work."

Rumi