My eternal self

Elizabeth Castillo87 said:Personally, I feel like the whole debate about whether the SELF is permanent or just passing through is just as important for everyone else, not just the "spiritual seekers." Just as much as it is to figure out what to do with that "I" once you realize it's there.
Once someone has that personal breakthrough, they hit a level where those old questions don't even matter anymore. The real choice is whether they want to stay in that headspace or... well, like Sandra Morgan2 once pointed out, what's the actual payoff for the individual? In the end, we all have to make a call: do we ditch the ego entirely and go live like hermits in the desert, or do we just get smart about it, take the reins, and actually enjoy the ride?

You hit the nail on the head here:

Being open is the absolute baseline if you want to see the full picture.

Just to add... I'm currently reading a wonderful book by Paramahansa Yogananda called "cosmic consciousness." He mentions that while people talk about it, even a mystic who decides they want to maintain that "state" simply can't always do so. Honestly, just a tiny shift in brain chemistry, some bad external vibes, poor diet, or compromised health, and it's gone. Once it's lost, he says, the mystic falls into a state of deep despair.

So, there you have it. Even when someone desperately wants an uninterrupted flow of pure awareness, it isn't strictly a matter of choice. Plus, so much has to be aligned just to exist in a body while trying to enjoy one's samadhi. Someone has to look after them, cook the meals, do the laundry, pay the bills—you basically have to become someone's parasite. Consequently, they end up drifting in and out... assuming, of course, they can successfully leap from this mundane reality back into pure consciousness whenever they please.🙂

Elizabeth Castillo87 said:Personally, I feel like the whole debate about whether the SELF is permanent or just passing through is just as important for everyone else, not just the "spiritual seekers." Just as much as it is to figure out what to do with that "I" once you realize it's there.
Once someone has that personal breakthrough, they hit a level where those old questions don't even matter anymore. The real choice is whether they want to stay in that headspace or... well, like Sandra Morgan2 once pointed out, what's the actual payoff for the individual? In the end, we all have to make a call: do we ditch the ego entirely and go live like hermits in the desert, or do we just get smart about it, take the reins, and actually enjoy the ride?

You hit the nail on the head here:

Being open is the absolute baseline if you want to see the full picture.

Obsessing over eternity versus this constant state of vanishing... that’s just a byproduct of our minds—all that fear, whining, and "flickering"—and while we're stuck in that headspace, we just wander aimlessly through the horizons of the past and future without ever stopping. It's exhausting. Total nightmare fuel.

As for the definition itself, I stumbled upon this gorgeous insight from the Indian sage Osho in his first book of secrets:

Quincy:

So here’s the kicker: in a moment of true love, the past and the future simply cease to exist. And that brings up this incredibly delicate point: if there is no past and no future, can you even call this moment "the present"? Usually, "the present" is just defined as the tiny sliver between two points—the past and the future. If those two boundaries aren't there, what’s the point of calling it "now"? It makes no sense. That’s why Shiva doesn't bother with the word "present." He speaks of "eternal life." By that, he means "infinity"—stepping into the "infinite." We tend to slice time into three chunks—past, present, and future. But that's just an artificial construct—completely fake. Time is understood within the framework of the past and the future. The "present" isn't actually a part of time. The present is a part of eternity. Whatever has happened is time; whatever is yet to come is time. But what is *now*? That isn't time, because it can't "pass." It is always right here. Now is always present. It is ALWAYS here! This "now" is infinite. If you are coming from the past, you’ll never actually arrive at the present. You just move from the past straight into the future. There is no way to land in the "now." From the past, you jump directly to the future. But from the present, you never move toward the future. From the present, you only move deeper and deeper into this exact moment. That is the eternal life. Think of it this way: time stretches horizontally from the past to the future. Time is like a flight path on a plane, following a set route. Or, you could call it "horizontal." But the second you enter the present, the dimension shifts: you start moving vertically—up or down, toward the heights or the depths. In that state, you never move horizontally again. Buddha, Shiva, and people like them live in eternity, not in time.

Sandra Morgan2 said:Just to add... I'm currently reading a wonderful book by Paramahansa Yogananda called "cosmic consciousness." He mentions that while people talk about it, even a mystic who decides they want to maintain that "state" simply can't always do so. Honestly, just a tiny shift in brain chemistry, some bad external vibes, poor diet, or compromised health, and it's gone. Once it's lost, he says, the mystic falls into a state of deep despair.

So, there you have it. Even when someone desperately wants an uninterrupted flow of pure awareness, it isn't strictly a matter of choice. Plus, so much has to be aligned just to exist in a body while trying to enjoy one's samadhi. Someone has to look after them, cook the meals, do the laundry, pay the bills—you basically have to become someone's parasite. Consequently, they end up drifting in and out... assuming, of course, they can successfully leap from this mundane reality back into pure consciousness whenever they please.🙂

If we're talking about the same thing (or something close to it, anyway), then yes—exactly. A little while back, I found myself struggling with a similar kind of "problem" after losing my connection to that "consciousness." It’s not even dependent on your individual ego or sense of self because it exists entirely outside those personal boundaries. It's like all those internal and external frameworks, experiences, objects, or values you used to care about or tie yourself to... they just vanish.

I have to say, it is a truly ugly experience. Nothing else can fill that sudden "void" left behind. Because of that, your motivation for doing everyday, mundane stuff hits rock bottom.

If this is indeed what it is (that certain eternal consciousness), I'm not quite sure how mysticism even fits into the equation. The reality of it seems so simple that calling it "mystical" feels almost misplaced. Who knows?

Quincy:

So, there you have it—even when someone wants a continuous flow of pure awareness, it isn't really up to them! Plus, there's so much logistical stuff that has to be aligned just to stay in the body while simultaneously enjoying their samadhi. Someone has to look after them, bring them food, do their laundry, pay the bills... they basically have to become a bit of a parasite! So, they end up drifting a little bit here and there... assuming, of course, they can successfully leap from this ordinary world into pure consciousness whenever they desire.🙂

That is absolutely true (especially regarding physical upkeep). At that point, the person isn't really a "person" anymore—they might just look like one on the outside. Anchored in the unchanging, they can clearly distinguish true reality from everything else, whatever that may be...
so they don't really care who looks after their physical body or not. When they're ready, they can simply sever the link with the body.

Daniel Castillo11 said:Solipsism? Honestly, I suspect that's just a bit of linguistic gymnastics. The real issue lies in our attempt to weave raw experience into the fabric of words. From my own perspective, that sense of "I" tends to sink away, or perhaps it remains incredibly fragile; even when I spend thirty minutes or more in deep meditation, I always find myself hitting that "WTF" sensation—a strange cocktail of existential vacuum, discomfort, relief, and my favorite way to describe it: "blissful ignorance."

It all sounds quite beautiful and profound, doesn't it? But if someone were to walk up and shoot me with a shotgun or hit me with a chainsaw, all my talk of consciousness and spaces-within-spaces wouldn't do me much good. My consciousness would simply flicker out; it would perceive the world in a distorted, fragmented way until the lights go dark completely. That is, until I lose the "I" entirely through death. While consciousness might serve as the subjective starting point for my experience of the world, that doesn't mean consciousness acts as the foundation for material existence. At least, there's zero evidence for that, and frankly, everything seems to point away from both dualism and idealism.

There are no perspectives within consciousness. It is always singular, a single formless thing. Only the content changes.

I constantly get the impression that you are treating "consciousness" as if it were an object. You're viewing it as something sitting behind everything else. That right there is the subtle trap of linguistic dualism. Tell me, where was this consciousness before I was born?

I suspect this is more about subjective perception than some objective fact. It’s the same way someone stuck in reductionist materialism would see a cognitive framework that just can't keep pace with the experiential phenomenology of the modern person. From their perspective, trying to work within that framework probably feels like trying to patch up an old, rusty bucket that leaks from every side; they likely see any attempt at fixing those holes as a totally futile job.

electrictinker26 said:I see where you're coming from. What I don't quite grasp is whether you view yourself as being "serious" when someone tells you, "you did this," or even when I say, "I will do this." I mean, while you are in this state of being a functional ego—much like I am, an individual with my own distinct personality, emotions, and actions. Is it possible for you to move from the ego into pure consciousness by choice? Can you actually distinguish between the ego and pure consciousness while still operating within that ego state?

Lately, when I sit down to meditate, I’m not even chasing the big stuff anymore. I’m just aiming for some basic inner peace. Honestly, merging with cosmic consciousness is something that’ll happen eventually—it’s inevitable, right? It’s not like you can dodge it forever. But man, let me tell you, the moment you drift away from that pure consciousness? It is indescribably painful. It’s like a physical ache. If we made the conscious choice to stick around in this world by clinging to our egos, then we basically signed the contract to separate ourselves from that pure state. We chose the ego, so we get the separation. Simple as that, isn't it?

nimblewolf11 said:If we're talking about the same thing (or something close to it, anyway), then yes—exactly. A little while back, I found myself struggling with a similar kind of "problem" after losing my connection to that "consciousness." It’s not even dependent on your individual ego or sense of self because it exists entirely outside those personal boundaries. It's like all those internal and external frameworks, experiences, objects, or values you used to care about or tie yourself to... they just vanish.

I have to say, it is a truly ugly experience. Nothing else can fill that sudden "void" left behind. Because of that, your motivation for doing everyday, mundane stuff hits rock bottom.

If this is indeed what it is (that certain eternal consciousness), I'm not quite sure how mysticism even fits into the equation. The reality of it seems so simple that calling it "mystical" feels almost misplaced. Who knows?

Quincy:

So, there you have it—even when someone wants a continuous flow of pure awareness, it isn't really up to them! Plus, there's so much logistical stuff that has to be aligned just to stay in the body while simultaneously enjoying their samadhi. Someone has to look after them, bring them food, do their laundry, pay the bills... they basically have to become a bit of a parasite! So, they end up drifting a little bit here and there... assuming, of course, they can successfully leap from this ordinary world into pure consciousness whenever they desire.🙂

That is absolutely true (especially regarding physical upkeep). At that point, the person isn't really a "person" anymore—they might just look like one on the outside. Anchored in the unchanging, they can clearly distinguish true reality from everything else, whatever that may be...
so they don't really care who looks after their physical body or not. When they're ready, they can simply sever the link with the body.

Ever get that sudden, desperate urge to just ditch everything? Like, pack up and vanish into the middle of nowhere because you know deep down you've got enough wild berries, fresh water, and sunshine to keep you breathing? You just want to soak in that cosmic consciousness and leave the chaos behind. Why does that sound so much better than reality?

Quincy:

If this "cosmic consciousness" thing is actually what it’s cracked up to be, then I honestly don't see why we even bother dragging mysticism into the conversation. Like, really? It feels like we're overcomplicating something that's fundamentally straightforward. Calling it "mystical" just makes it sound all heavy and esoteric, when in reality, the concept itself is so simple it barely deserves the label. Is it just me, or does adding all that mystical fluff just get in the way of the actual truth? I don't know. Maybe I'm just being cynical, but it feels unnecessary.

We basically slap the label "mystic" on anything that makes our puny little brains short-circuit. It’s our go-to catch-all for anything too weird, too deep, or just plain impossible for us to wrap our heads around, right?

Quincy:

Look, I’m telling you, this is the absolute truth when it comes to maintaining the body. That guy? He isn't even a "person" anymore. Not really. On the outside, sure, he looks like one of us, but deep down? He’s completely anchored. He can see through all the noise and clearly distinguish true reality from everything else that’s just... well, whatever this mess is. So, basically, he’s just sitting there playing mind games with himself, wondering if anyone’s actually going to step up and take responsibility for his physical existence. It's wild, right? He’s got this whole idea that he's in total control of the connection between his soul and his skin—like, if he feels like pulling the plug on that bond, he just can. He thinks he can just sever the link whenever he damn well pleases. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Exactly. Honestly, who gives a damn about the physical body when your needs are basically zero? Once you tap into that cosmic consciousness, health just kind of follows suit as a byproduct. But here’s the kicker—can you really just check out on everyone else? Can you just stop giving a damn about your surroundings or the people who might actually be counting on you? Is it even possible for a person to stay locked in that gorgeous state of heightened awareness while remaining completely untouched by the chaos of the real world?
Eternal really nailed it with this one. He’s out here acknowledging his ego like it’s just some normal part of being human, while simultaneously looking right through it—seeing it for exactly what it is: nothing more than a gorgeous little illusion. Isn't that just wild?

Elizabeth Castillo87 said:Lately, when I sit down to meditate, I’m not even chasing the big stuff anymore. I’m just aiming for some basic inner peace. Honestly, merging with cosmic consciousness is something that’ll happen eventually—it’s inevitable, right? It’s not like you can dodge it forever. But man, let me tell you, the moment you drift away from that pure consciousness? It is indescribably painful. It’s like a physical ache. If we made the conscious choice to stick around in this world by clinging to our egos, then we basically signed the contract to separate ourselves from that pure state. We chose the ego, so we get the separation. Simple as that, isn't it?

Ever get that sudden, desperate urge to just ditch everything? Like, pack up and vanish into the middle of nowhere because you know deep down you've got enough wild berries, fresh water, and sunshine to keep you breathing? You just want to soak in that cosmic consciousness and leave the chaos behind. Why does that sound so much better than reality?

Quincy:

If this "cosmic consciousness" thing is actually what it’s cracked up to be, then I honestly don't see why we even bother dragging mysticism into the conversation. Like, really? It feels like we're overcomplicating something that's fundamentally straightforward. Calling it "mystical" just makes it sound all heavy and esoteric, when in reality, the concept itself is so simple it barely deserves the label. Is it just me, or does adding all that mystical fluff just get in the way of the actual truth? I don't know. Maybe I'm just being cynical, but it feels unnecessary.

We basically slap the label "mystic" on anything that makes our puny little brains short-circuit. It’s our go-to catch-all for anything too weird, too deep, or just plain impossible for us to wrap our heads around, right?

Quincy:

Look, I’m telling you, this is the absolute truth when it comes to maintaining the body. That guy? He isn't even a "person" anymore. Not really. On the outside, sure, he looks like one of us, but deep down? He’s completely anchored. He can see through all the noise and clearly distinguish true reality from everything else that’s just... well, whatever this mess is. So, basically, he’s just sitting there playing mind games with himself, wondering if anyone’s actually going to step up and take responsibility for his physical existence. It's wild, right? He’s got this whole idea that he's in total control of the connection between his soul and his skin—like, if he feels like pulling the plug on that bond, he just can. He thinks he can just sever the link whenever he damn well pleases. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

Exactly. Honestly, who gives a damn about the physical body when your needs are basically zero? Once you tap into that cosmic consciousness, health just kind of follows suit as a byproduct. But here’s the kicker—can you really just check out on everyone else? Can you just stop giving a damn about your surroundings or the people who might actually be counting on you? Is it even possible for a person to stay locked in that gorgeous state of heightened awareness while remaining completely untouched by the chaos of the real world?
Eternal really nailed it with this one. He’s out here acknowledging his ego like it’s just some normal part of being human, while simultaneously looking right through it—seeing it for exactly what it is: nothing more than a gorgeous little illusion. Isn't that just wild?

Basically, the emotions are still there, but they no longer hold the reins.

It’s all about pure witnessing—not identifying with any of those internal or external shifts—and that won't make a person any less valuable in their relationships with others.

nimblewolf11 said:Basically, the emotions are still there, but they no longer hold the reins.

It’s all about pure witnessing—not identifying with any of those internal or external shifts—and that won't make a person any less valuable in their relationships with others.

👍

It isn't easy, at least not for me.😉

Great topic.