What I See Is Me
I have been turning this thought over for months now, never quite getting to the point of writing about it, because I’m not sure I know how to get this across clearly to my readers: What I see is Me. I am hoping that this blog will help me to be clearer about a growing awareness in me, and let me share some thoughts that point in a fascinating and resonant direction. It might be a bit messy. Please forgive me my struggle to put these words artfully and with clarity.
Eastern mysticism talks about Maya, the Veil of Illusion. The idea of maya is that the ego-attached mind creates an illusory world that we live in, believing all the time that what our mind has created is real, when it is not. We see a coiled rope, and think mistakenly that it is a snake. Our mind, great gift that it is, most of the time, is filtering and interpreting our reality, instead of being open and presencing reality.
Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud have written about the psychological phenomenon of projection. The parts of us that we have not been able to embrace (both ‘good’ and ‘bad’), are projected, or made real, in our view of others. “The pot calling the kettle black” is a classic turn of phrase that captures the essence of projection. Our intolerance of traits we see in others is all too often an intolerance of ones that we ourselves possess, but deny or repress their existence in ourselves. This is the Shadow part of ourselves, and I recommend Debbie Ford’s book, The Dark Side of the Light Chasers for further reading if you are interested in this rich subject.
Many other thinkers, both modern and ancient, have pointed toward the same or similar realization that our perception is what creates ‘reality’. For me, the five words of the title, which came to me as epiphany three months ago, have taken a high and abstract concept down to a visceral level for me, one that has ever-expanding repercussions and possibilities for my concept of self and creation.
I need to be personal here, though my life experience tells me that my story is by no means unique. Possibly, it is universal at some level. Anyway, here’s the point: from an early age I have sensed and felt, and eventually come to believe, in my separateness in the world. I viewed my life as if through glass: things happened around me, and occasionally through me and certainly to me, but I was like a dot painted on a balloon: there, but not really a connected part of the whole. Maybe I just made it all up. Could everything be made up, including myself? Is it possible that what happens in the world around me could be my own creation, or not a part of me at all? I remember messing with my friends’ minds in high school by asking them for proof that the world exists independently of them. What proof do we have that anything existed before we were born? What if everything we know and assume to be true is just a part of what we make up from the moment of our birth? People, things, everything we come in contact with…could it simply be something that our mind creates, and has no existence outside of us? Believe me, this really messed with my friends’ minds; no one had an answer for me. Neither did I; I hadn’t a clue. It bothered me, too. How do I know that we are not just dreaming our lives, and believing that the dream has a reality independent of ourselves?
My short answer is: I don’t really know if “life is but a dream.” All of our perceptions could be simply made up, a dream that we each believe in, like the world in the movie The Matrix, where we might wake up one day and find out that reality has nothing to do with what we have been experiencing. Our bodies could be simply a thing we believe exists and has experiences, but maybe it really isn’t ‘there’? When I think about this, I realize I simply have no absolute proof that this alternate explanation of Reality is not true. All I really know is that I do exist, as I am conscious of my existence. Not that “I think, therefore I am.” To me, it is that “I experience a world, and therefore I am.”
There’s more. If what I see is Me, my creation, then my experience tells me that there are at least two different universes. One exists when my consciousness is “below the line,” when I feel hurt, or small, disconnected from others. The universe appears to be cold and exclusive, life stacked against me or simply indifferent. If there is a web of life, from below the line I judge that I am not a part of it. From this perspective what I see is me: my inflated ego, pumped up with its victimhood, or, at times, my grandiosity, a sense that the universe was created to serve me personally (so chop chop, hop to it!).
When I am “above the line,” my state of being is in connection with others and Nature, and my heart is at peace, reality appears very differently to me. At times I have an awareness that what I perceive truly is Me, that the connection I feel with everything outside of my skin is as alive and a part of me as what is inside my skin. At such moments my body feels electrified, and my heart opens in a way that I feel a sense of joyful tears resting in my chest. I experience a sense of sacredness around me. Words I speak from this place have a very different impact on others, for what is spoken, what happens, comes from a place of authenticity. What I see is Me. Not the small ‘me’ of the inflated ego when I am below the line, but the real Me that is made from the same energy as all creation. Everything that happens here I can see happening within an ecosystem of interdependence. I feel the presence of the Divine.
I invite you to take a look from time to time, considering that ‘What I see is me’. Take in all that you see, feel, and sense as being a part of yourself. What changes? And if what you see on the outside is truly you, who are you being in this moment? What is there inside you?