It's either a state of blindingly effulgent mystical unity with the godhead or a blessedly mundane being here now with a lot of chopping wood and carrying water. Whichever flavor is characteristic of the spiritual path we favor, the idea that this is a "state" is bound to find us still confined to our perceptual module, however exalted it may be. Even Dorothy found out that her state was Kansas all along. Not that I put down Kansas; I'm from there. But after I dropped off the map entirely, I don't think it exists anymore. Enlightenment, that is, not Kansas. Enlightenment is Oz. You can't step in the same river twice, and you can’t go home again.