Not my parents

At some point in inquiry, we may start questioning the most basic labels and what seems most obviously true.

And what we find may be quite different from  how it appeared to us previously.

For instance, what about the thoughts that this is my father, this is my mother, these are my parents?

How is it equally or more true that they are not my parents? What specific and genuine examples can I find?

I don’t know. I don’t really know they are my parents, in an ordinary and biological sense. I cannot know for sure. They may tell me they are. Others may tell me they are. My birth certificate may tell me they are. A genetics test may tell me they are. And if I am honest, I don’t know. I cannot know for sure.

I am my own parent. I interpret and label, I criticize, love and support myself, and I parent myself in that way. I am the only one who is really parenting me. As a kid, my parents may have cared for me, and yet, I am the one allowing myself to experience that as love. My parents may have criticized something I did, and I am the one who believed my own thoughts and took it on. Of course, back then I didn’t know any better. It was and is innocent. And yet, I am the one parenting myself.

Life is my parent. Everything is my parent. Seeing this allows me to relive my parents of taking all the blame or credit. My biological parents’ parenting is just a small part of life’s parenting. It’s a part of life’s parenting. And life parents in me innumerable ways, many more than I can possible list. Life supports me through air, food, protection from the elements, an often mild climate, friends, the support of family and friends, a mind that works reasonably well, a body that works reasonably well, and much more. Life gives me feedback. Life is not allowing me to get away with untruth, with believing my images and thoughts (it’s set up to create discomfort when that happens).

I am their parent. That’s true too. Even as a child, I must have helped them learn and given them feedback. I sometimes guide them. I sometimes support them in different ways.

So while I don’t have a reason to doubt my parents are my biological parents, I also find where something else is more true. Where I cannot know for sure. Where I am my own parent. Where life as a whole is my real and more comprehensive parent. And where I am their parent.



– don’t know
– i am my own parent (interpret, label, filter, criticize, love, support, parent myself in that way)
– life/everything is my parent (relieves them of the burden too, the blame + credit from my side)


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