Unending fractal of experience
Hatching from the shell of ego
Thought has a recursive quality to it that allows it to bounce back and forth across repeated patterns, making it feel as if a continuing self is being suspended over experience and across time.
This is in fact just a simulation, a smoke-and-mirrors effect.
It's perfectly understandable that we fall for the illusion. The very setup of the human organism, with its main sensory devices clustered on a swiveling hub, strongly implies a center to experience.
Concentrating awareness around our heads has certainly helped our species survive and thrive, which probably explains why evolution has nudged things in this direction. Unfortunately for us though, this comes at the expense of inner peace.
We're living under a case of mistaken identity, turning away from the ecstatic contentment of what we are in favor of a vastly inferior storyline of selfhood.
The truth is, we're not encapsulated by thought.
We're an unending fractal of experience, joyfully blossoming inwardly and outwardly simultaneously. We possess not only the ability, but the birthright to live rooted in this reality.
Why? I really have no clue. It's preposterous – and incredibly lucky – that it should be this way.