We believe in a personal, unique and distinct individuality, but if we take the liberty to explore it, we find that it relies entirely on an endless set of different things - name, biography, spouse, family, home, friends, credit cards…
And we rely entirely on this unreliable and changeable support.
If we take all this away from us, will we have at least some idea of who we really are? Without these familiar props, we encounter ourselves, a person we don’t know, an unnerving stranger with whom we have lived all this time, but didn’t really want to meet.
Is it because we try to fill every moment in time with noise and activity, no matter how boring or empty it is, so that we never remain in silence alone with this unfamiliar self?
