On Contemplation, Timelessness, and Remembering Who We Really Are
Sometimes, in the stillness, you can look at your own life and feel a kind of disorientation.
A gentle suspicion that the “you” you’ve been crafting—the stories of identity you’ve built up over the years—might not be the full story.
The contemplative mind seems to slip into questions that stretch both backwards and forwards in time.
Who will I be after I die?
Did I exist in some form before this life?
Is the real “me” part of something that’s outside of time altogether?
But what if we changed the questions?
What if, when we strip back our preconceptions, it starts to feel natural to consider that maybe…
You are a fragment—an embodiment—for now—of a deeper, fuller self.
That there is a part of who you are that isn’t bound by your physical birth or your biological death.
When you sit long enough…
When you look past the noise of your labels and roles and all the things the ego needs you to achieve before you die…
Sometimes you feel a sensitivity to something else.
A deeper belonging that reaches into a reality before your birth—and beyond your death.
These moments of recognition… of familiarity… of déjà vu.
They don’t feel random—they feel like echoes.
As if you’re brushing up against a different knowing.