Comment by prieveschl

Thanks, I’ll have to give him a read. This concept of self and our our urgent obsession with the subjective experience is indeed a junk heap of ideas we’ve picked up along the way, or machines of reason and identity we’ve cobbled from the misguided cogs adopted in its construction or foisted upon us from others trying to make sense of their own jumbled notions of who they are. The more I ruminate on exactly who this self is - is it my consciousness, a figment of imagination, a device to escape entropy, a receptor pulling down from some universal wellspring, a support system designed to merely keep the flesh animated and alive, an adversary we concoct to challenge preconception and spur our continual evolution - the closer I approach a territory where the self no longer serves a purpose, at least not in the way I always thought it must, and that simply being is the most honest manifestation of this thing we call enlightenment. Being without a need to understand the self, to live in the vast unknowing, and truly be ok with that.