Euphoric as I am contemplating the sanity of the thought: I Am Not My Mind. What a strange meditation? All along, I had deemed the cerebral oration inside my cranium to be the fundamental “me” upon which all of life’s phenomenons transpire.
For a moment I appreciated that life is a hoard of elapsing experiences, and my ‘thoughts’ merely reside as an additional ‘experience’ to that pile. First, it appears to me that my thoughts are analogous to my senses. Similar to sensation, the thoughts ascend in my conscious; possessing a particular aura, and subsequently vanish as they are substituted by an alternative thought or perception. Second, when I am sensing, ‘I’ know that I am sensing; when I am thinking, ‘I’ know that I am thinking. Hence, if I am gifted at discerning my thoughts just like I discern my environment, then “who” is carrying out the discerning?
My eyebrows lifted and my eyes twitched as they both knelt down to the inauguration of the sympathetic nervous system to govern the body I resided in.
I begun to appreciate that the answer to the previous question required yet another thought, a thought that had not yet existed; a thought that wasn’t there a little while ago, but one that would eventually instill itself inside my mind and self-proclaim cleverness. So does the present ‘me’ differ from the future ‘me’?
Am I my mind? I shut down.
I have for now decided to leave the answer to you. Remember, the answer may perhaps be the core of countless faiths and spiritual mores.
The mind may be larger than the sum of its parts