Hello,
Lots of depth here to explore. Great. :)
Take a couple days if needed with this.
What specifically is not seen, or maybe ‘believed’ is a better word, is that there is nobody here. It FEELS so real. I’ve looked and looked, and looked some more, and I can’t find a person. I understand that the voice belongs to the body (kind of) and it’s just thinking with a soundtrack, but it’s difficult to believe. Who’s typing this?? It feels like I am. Is there someone in the hands? I can’t find anyone. Is there someone in the brain directing every movement? I’ve looked and can’t find anyone. How can I separate the feeling of being a person from what’s actually happening?
That’s the crux. You’ve already looked, and you’ve already not found… so the illusion is no longer ignorance, but belief. A felt sense. And belief is just a looping thought that hasn’t been examined as thought.
So right now, don’t try to convince yourself. Drop the analysis. Drop the belief. Right now, look.
Hold up your hand. Feel it. See it.
Where’s the one who owns it?
Look. Not for an answer!…look for what’s actually there.
Notice the sensation of “me” in the chest, or behind the eyes. Then drop the label. Drop the story. What is that actually? (Not what thought says)
That sense of “I”—what if it’s just a persistent tension, a habit of attention, a felt contraction misread as “someone”?
Can a sensation be a self?
Can a thought be a person?
Hold on to that “who’s typing this?” moment.
Right now, fingers are moving, words are appearing.
Is there a controller? Or is it just happening?
You say it “feels” like you’re doing it. But isn’t that just another layer of sensation and thought interpreted as doer?
Strip off the label. What is left?
Right now. Is there any entity doing, choosing, directing anything? Or is there only this arising: thought, sensation, action, all spontaneous?
I wish I could live there; in that space of release, seeing through the self, etc - all the time
Who wants to “live there”? Track that desire.
Notice there is no self, but the seeking impulse tries to sneak in the back door saying “now stay like this forever.”
You’re not meant to live there, you’re meant to see there’s nowhere to live. No “you” to live. No final state. Just this. Always this.
There’s always tension in the body when selfing is happening
Perfect.
Next time that tension arises, don’t escape. Sink into it.
Where exactly is the contraction?
What shape, what texture, what pulse?
Not the idea of tension—feel it directly. Don’t name it. Let it speak without words. And ask:
What story is this sensation protecting?
What belief does this contraction serve?
If this wasn’t labeled as ‘me’… what would it be?
-B