Personality is a wardrobe, not your identity. This reflection invites you to loosen the grip on your “favorite outfit” and let presence choose what the moment needs.
I just accidentally deleted a whole paragraph I had written, which of course was my IPAD’S FAULT 🤬 & my childish “throw the device & break it to punish it” costume got halfway slipped on before my “don’t you dare, you just bought that ipad & you could break it” Cersei Lannister from Game of Thrones costume took over. Now I’m half way in between pondering what costume (personality) I’m wearing now.
I may read this article a dozen times. Fascinating & so true, diving into deep water of who I’ve played & what costume I’ve worn, so much of the time without even realizing it. Sometimes jobs called for a certain costume, other times it was just the one I wanted to wear, other times like a few moments ago it just popped on in response to something that happened unexpectedly….
And underneath it all there was still me. The naked me without the costume or the real me without the personality - & still unconsciously forgot about that me constantly.
Being in theatre in high school which led to a theatre major in college, changing costumes & personalities was a “job” that i loved “playing” - it wasnt “work”. I was blessed with 2 jobs, both for several decades, that were a dream come true - i loved the personality & costume i was allowed to put on & while yes, there were some rules, there was quite a bit of self-supervised freedom to play & i rarely gave a thought to anything but how blessed I was to have a job where I was hired to be ME while i worked.
The past 5 & a half years since I got sick with Covid (now Long Covid) & finally had to quit my job after 4 years of medical leave has flipped that script i just described on itz head. I’m single, no kids, family a few states away, live alone, so I’ve had plenty of time alone to think. Meditate. Feel. Cry. Worry. And seeing over 30 drs trying to figure out a new vicious virus, for the first time in my life CONSCIOUSLY pick what costume to wear, what personality to be. A lot of the times I’ve been too sick to even do that. Or one could argue I did have a costume & personality on - sick patient. It’s changed a lot and this post you wrote and question you asked is something I have been exploring for those past 5 years because so often I’ve got too much brain fog, fatigue, pain, anxiety, worry, grief, to even contemplate who to be or how to act. And not knowing who i am without my favorite personality, while being terrifying at first, has also given me an I don’t give a shit strength I had never experienced before.
What a beautifully written, simple yet not always so easy to do practice. Your take on it at the end always pulls it all together for me so precisely yet with room for my own opinions, feelings, growths & gifts.
Most important thing it’s given me is time to be quiet. To listen (most folks call it meditate which always intimidated me). To be naked without a personality or costume & get to explore that creature. And the Spirit that created it. Sometimes even with pain i can feel the gift.
I so resonate with your situation. I became disabled at 40. It was with a immune deficiency that was a newer one. I lost my job and was forced to remove my corporate personality. That began my unplanned journey of self discovery.
You are correct, it is never simple. But it is worth it.
Celia, disabled at 40 is very different, at least in my book, then being disabled at 65. I am grateful it happened at that age for me, only recently having that change of attitude happen. And finally discovering the blessings that wouldn’t have happened any other way.
Your attitude inspires me & boosters the hope I’ve just begun to find in it.
Thank you for sharing your experience & positive words that pour thru it so deeply.
🎭I’ve worn lots of different personalities in my life — most of the costumes didn’t fit quite right. I feel like an onion, peeling off one layer after another.🍂
"there is a bare noticing that doesn't belong to the body?" So what is doing this bare noticing that doesn't belong to the consciousness of a living organism?
You’re assuming the only options are “body” or “mind.” That’s the trap.
The bare noticing I’m pointing to isn’t a thing with a name. It’s what’s left when the organism stops narrating itself. Call it awareness if you need a label, but it isn’t a character in the story. It’s the space the story appears in.
When the personality quiets, something older does the seeing. Not mystical. Just simple. Too simple for the mind to claim as its own.
You mean the surface level impressions of reality received by the biological reality of your eyes? And btw, if your nervous system wasn't constantly firing, you'd be dead and unable to act out your personal will to power by manipulating words, to paraphrase McGilchrist.
When I say “thing,” I’m teasing the part of you that still wants a label to hold onto. The quiet presence between thoughts isn’t an object. It’s not a noun. It’s the part of you that slips through every definition you’ve ever tried to pin to your chest.
Call it awareness. Call it breath. Call it the witness that keeps forgetting it’s holy.
I call it a thing because the mind relaxes when it thinks it understands. Then, right when it tries to grab it, it dissolves again. That’s the joke. That’s the doorway.
May whatever you are between your thoughts rise up and recognize itself.
You mean the non-psychological, biological reality of the Living Organism You Are? The non-linguistic reality of a Self? Beyond the conflation of subjective & objective reality, inherent in language and our communication-biased form of consciousness?
You’re circling close, but you’re still trying to dissect a butterfly with a chainsaw. The living organism, the pre-linguistic self, the whole “non-psychological biological reality” bit… all true in its own lane. But the thing between thoughts doesn’t sit still long enough to be captured by a description that long.
What you’re pointing at is the scaffolding. What I’m pointing at is the open sky once the scaffolding falls away.
Before the nervous system fires, before language sorts experience into categories, before the mind builds a theory about what you are, there is a bare noticing that doesn’t belong to the body or the biography. It’s not opposed to them either. It’s just older.
Call it organism. Call it awareness. Call it the self before the self knew how to spell.
The joke is that the moment you try to explain it, you’re already standing outside of it again.
May you catch it in the next breath, not as an idea but as the wide quiet that was here first.
I just accidentally deleted a whole paragraph I had written, which of course was my IPAD’S FAULT 🤬 & my childish “throw the device & break it to punish it” costume got halfway slipped on before my “don’t you dare, you just bought that ipad & you could break it” Cersei Lannister from Game of Thrones costume took over. Now I’m half way in between pondering what costume (personality) I’m wearing now.
I may read this article a dozen times. Fascinating & so true, diving into deep water of who I’ve played & what costume I’ve worn, so much of the time without even realizing it. Sometimes jobs called for a certain costume, other times it was just the one I wanted to wear, other times like a few moments ago it just popped on in response to something that happened unexpectedly….
And underneath it all there was still me. The naked me without the costume or the real me without the personality - & still unconsciously forgot about that me constantly.
Being in theatre in high school which led to a theatre major in college, changing costumes & personalities was a “job” that i loved “playing” - it wasnt “work”. I was blessed with 2 jobs, both for several decades, that were a dream come true - i loved the personality & costume i was allowed to put on & while yes, there were some rules, there was quite a bit of self-supervised freedom to play & i rarely gave a thought to anything but how blessed I was to have a job where I was hired to be ME while i worked.
The past 5 & a half years since I got sick with Covid (now Long Covid) & finally had to quit my job after 4 years of medical leave has flipped that script i just described on itz head. I’m single, no kids, family a few states away, live alone, so I’ve had plenty of time alone to think. Meditate. Feel. Cry. Worry. And seeing over 30 drs trying to figure out a new vicious virus, for the first time in my life CONSCIOUSLY pick what costume to wear, what personality to be. A lot of the times I’ve been too sick to even do that. Or one could argue I did have a costume & personality on - sick patient. It’s changed a lot and this post you wrote and question you asked is something I have been exploring for those past 5 years because so often I’ve got too much brain fog, fatigue, pain, anxiety, worry, grief, to even contemplate who to be or how to act. And not knowing who i am without my favorite personality, while being terrifying at first, has also given me an I don’t give a shit strength I had never experienced before.
What a beautifully written, simple yet not always so easy to do practice. Your take on it at the end always pulls it all together for me so precisely yet with room for my own opinions, feelings, growths & gifts.
Most important thing it’s given me is time to be quiet. To listen (most folks call it meditate which always intimidated me). To be naked without a personality or costume & get to explore that creature. And the Spirit that created it. Sometimes even with pain i can feel the gift.
I so resonate with your situation. I became disabled at 40. It was with a immune deficiency that was a newer one. I lost my job and was forced to remove my corporate personality. That began my unplanned journey of self discovery.
You are correct, it is never simple. But it is worth it.
Celia, disabled at 40 is very different, at least in my book, then being disabled at 65. I am grateful it happened at that age for me, only recently having that change of attitude happen. And finally discovering the blessings that wouldn’t have happened any other way.
Your attitude inspires me & boosters the hope I’ve just begun to find in it.
Thank you for sharing your experience & positive words that pour thru it so deeply.
🎭I’ve worn lots of different personalities in my life — most of the costumes didn’t fit quite right. I feel like an onion, peeling off one layer after another.🍂
I think you’re a sweet onion 🧅
🌸Hi Beth, you’re a sweet magnolia blossom!🌸
"there is a bare noticing that doesn't belong to the body?" So what is doing this bare noticing that doesn't belong to the consciousness of a living organism?
You’re assuming the only options are “body” or “mind.” That’s the trap.
The bare noticing I’m pointing to isn’t a thing with a name. It’s what’s left when the organism stops narrating itself. Call it awareness if you need a label, but it isn’t a character in the story. It’s the space the story appears in.
When the personality quiets, something older does the seeing. Not mystical. Just simple. Too simple for the mind to claim as its own.
You mean the surface level impressions of reality received by the biological reality of your eyes? And btw, if your nervous system wasn't constantly firing, you'd be dead and unable to act out your personal will to power by manipulating words, to paraphrase McGilchrist.
What are You. Between two thoughts?
Between two thoughts I’m the quiet thing that doesn’t need a name.
The moment you notice it, it hides again.
The moment you stop looking, it starts breathing.
You're a thing?
When I say “thing,” I’m teasing the part of you that still wants a label to hold onto. The quiet presence between thoughts isn’t an object. It’s not a noun. It’s the part of you that slips through every definition you’ve ever tried to pin to your chest.
Call it awareness. Call it breath. Call it the witness that keeps forgetting it’s holy.
I call it a thing because the mind relaxes when it thinks it understands. Then, right when it tries to grab it, it dissolves again. That’s the joke. That’s the doorway.
May whatever you are between your thoughts rise up and recognize itself.
You mean the non-psychological, biological reality of the Living Organism You Are? The non-linguistic reality of a Self? Beyond the conflation of subjective & objective reality, inherent in language and our communication-biased form of consciousness?
You’re circling close, but you’re still trying to dissect a butterfly with a chainsaw. The living organism, the pre-linguistic self, the whole “non-psychological biological reality” bit… all true in its own lane. But the thing between thoughts doesn’t sit still long enough to be captured by a description that long.
What you’re pointing at is the scaffolding. What I’m pointing at is the open sky once the scaffolding falls away.
Before the nervous system fires, before language sorts experience into categories, before the mind builds a theory about what you are, there is a bare noticing that doesn’t belong to the body or the biography. It’s not opposed to them either. It’s just older.
Call it organism. Call it awareness. Call it the self before the self knew how to spell.
The joke is that the moment you try to explain it, you’re already standing outside of it again.
May you catch it in the next breath, not as an idea but as the wide quiet that was here first.