We are only I, here in this reality. A few nights ago I was reading this book on emptiness that I like. I was rereading a section that was pretty nuanced and profound and I only halfway understood the first time I read it. I read this paragraph over and over, understanding, not understanding, ok in the not understanding. The understanding like a cat, quietly walking away, flickering tail, till you wonder if you really even saw it. Just soaking the words over and over into my distracted brain.
But then I understood it. (Or at least the next step to understanding.) And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. And cross-checking, comparing, and triangulating this understanding to everything about me.
Identity, even our meat-based, human identity, is always in context. And for the Heather Vescent, this identity arises in the context of this world, these variables, these aspects of my meat sack. Like a flickering flame (or multi-colored LED lightbulb) that is ephemeral, ever changing, with no ability to exist on its own, but only as magical conjuring between perfectly aligned crystals. This is easy to understand in the context of technology websites, where they give you an identity on their system for you to use. Your identity is in specific context to what that site (the context of the environment) allows you to do - hey, for this it's just features and functionality, business models and your acceptance to the terms of service.
But here with this identity that western thought says my identity is something I anchor to. That I am always I, the same I, even if faceted.
I step back. I put that western idea on the shelf, and I think about this conjuring pad, surrounded by variables, projections into this void space, from which, the me, that is I arises.
A most magical and awe-inspiring moment. And yet, so mundane. We all have this identities. That's "who" "we" "are." And we don't think much about how amazing it is that we have done this perfect aligning of all the variables and contexts, to be here on this planet, with a meat sack, and a brain and human society and voila - you.
Do the disco lights have any meaning? Do they go to another reality when the party is over and they are switched off?
You can't take it with you - not even your identity. Because there is nothing to take.
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