For most of us, the “I” is positional (“you” are here and “I” am here), a place in time and space, a point of view that accumulates all the experiences and points past views. Does this “I” mean a substantial entity within our body, or is it located in our minds, our families, our job titles, our Facebook profiles, our bank accounts: these pitfalls that help us make sense and understand the people we believe to be.
We “come” to this identity most often inadvertently. In absolute terms, it is constructed from a series of decisions we made in response to what we felt or perceived (consciously or not) as a failure to do something or to be something. When these “apparent” failures arise, we make decisions about how to compensate, respond and adapt to them. The effect of these past decisions on what we have become is relatively unknown. Whether one or 10 or even 40 years later, we always keep what we have identified, concealing this access to ourselves and leaving us no way to be in harmony with what is happening. But to leave our identity n ‘
The idea that another idea of oneself exists can be disconcerting and debilitating. Putting aside the things that gave us an “identity,” we “realize that this so-called self is as arbitrary as our name. It’s like standing over an abyss, recognizing that this “I” we know is not something absolute. But it is with this recognition that the transformation takes place which enables us to invent as we go along. This revelation of ourselves occurs in a profound way that can alter the meaning of being human.