Life is oblivion erupting, for a brief moment, into non-oblivion in order so that oblivion may proclaim: 'I am.' The assumption being, of course, that living things are aware enough to make such a proclamation. Let us suppose that they are. Let us suppose that they are, to a degree, self-aware. This makes for the possibility of life recognizing itself, yes, but not as oblivion, only as life. In order for life to recognize itself as a fleeting pulse of oblivion, self-awareness, must be refined into pure awareness, which is observation unimpaired by either ego or preconceptions.
-- from The Romantic, by Barbara Gowdy --
Abel, a character from Gowdy's novel makes the above statement in an essay he has written, called Oblivion. I myself would like to write a bit of an elaborative essay on what I believe is being touched upon here, for I find it to be one of the most profound passages I've encountered in fiction.
Have a great Friday!