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Everything You Own Has an Owner. Nobody Has Ever Found It
My hands, my brain, my thoughts. In 1739 David Hume went looking for the one all of it belongs to and kept tripping over something else. You can run the same search tonight.
Ego, self, love and how the mind works.
My hands, my brain, my thoughts. In 1739 David Hume went looking for the one all of it belongs to and kept tripping over something else. You can run the same search tonight.
I caught myself warmed by affection I knew wasn't sincere. It was embarrassing, and then it was a clue. If the feeling wasn't coming from them, where was it coming from?
Self-help is right: you can take charge of your mind. But every controller you find has another one standing behind it, and neuroscience only makes the line longer. Where does it stop?
Two ancient claims about God look like they cancel each other out. Put them side by side and something uncomfortable falls out about the part of you that's always asking for more love.
In 1983 a scientist asked volunteers to flick their wrist whenever they felt like it. Their brains began preparing before they knew they had decided. Forty years later, what that measured is still being argued about.
Every major tradition says letting go of the self leads to freedom. Seen from outside, a saint and someone who has simply stopped caring can look alike. The difference is not how much they've let go.