Am I my body? Have you ever asked yourself this?
I’ve never felt that my body was me. Even as a kid, I remember thinking that my body was just a vehicle. I was like a little man sitting behind the windows of my eyes, driving my body around. This was fun.
What is wrong with this world is that it tries to convince me that I am my body. Where did they get that idea? What a stupid idea. I don’t buy it at all. Not anymore. I bought this idea for a while, but then decided to reject it. It didn’t serve me well. It’s just bullshit.
You can believe whatever you want, but if you choose to believe that you are your body, then this is what your reality will become. Fun at first, but eventually your life will become a nightmare. Because there is no hope for the body.
I don’t hate my body, but I’m not in love with it either. It’s like my car. It’s useful to move around. I can use it to manipulate the stuff around me. It also serves to express myself to others. But my body is not me, it’s a tool. A living tool which has an expiry date.
Those who identify with the body live as mortals. Those who do not identify with the body have a better chance at survival.
Surviving death. The purpose of life is to survive death. To become immortal.
Immortality starts with not identifying with the body.
Look at yourself in the mirror and say: “This is not me. It’s my vehicle. And it’s getting older. It’s slowly dying. And that’s fine. I’ll continue feeding and taking care of it but I’m not giving my life to it. Keeping this body alive as long as possible is not necessarily the recipe for happiness. My sense of self is located somewhere else. This vehicle belongs to the earth, and it will stay with it. I do not belong to the earth and I don’t intend to remain attached to it forever.”