And is, I’m sure about that!
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…
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