You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.
You can find this passage in — The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934
My work and research I put into this Substack Page are entirely reader-supported. If you enjoy the content I provide and are not ready to become a paid subscriber, you can simply make a one-time donation here at Buy Me A Coffee. If you can. I appreciate each one of you who follows this page. You all truly made it into a magical little online community. Thank You.
I wonder if we start out hibernating or if we all were awake and then, knowingly or unknowingly, chose to hibernate because living, being fully present with this life, can be overwhelming, terrifying, or just plain uncomfortable.
Perhaps it is good fortune to awaken and requires great courage to stay awake.
“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born..
—Anais Nin, Diary of Anais Nin, vol. 1
1931-1934