An absence of identity seems similar to a continuous free fall.
Maybe because what is seems similar to one. It is just this Eternal Now, this Timeless Present, within which all these phenomena happen – always fresh. Everything dies as what it was and is reborn as something else, continuously.
There is nothing to hold onto. It is not possible to hold onto anything, no matter how much there is a trying to hold onto something. There is only the appearance of holding onto something, an attachment to the idea of holding onto – and that too cannot be held onto.
So there is a free fall. An absence of anything to hold onto.
Over the last few weeks, the memory of a recurrent childhood dream has come up for me. A dream about a free fall. And then this experience of an absence of identity as a free fall. The experience of both are very similar.