I have never known human life.
That struck me this morning.
I was looking at how I am far more familiar and comfortable with finding myself as consciousness. It’s what I remembered from before this life. It’s what was revealed in the oneness shift when I was sixteen. It’s what I have noticed since.
To myself, I am consciousness, and the world – as it appears to me – happens within and as the consciousness I am.
Even more fundamentally, I am capacity for all of it – consciousness and all that it forms itself into.
That’s what I know. That’s all I have ever known, even when it wasn’t consciously noticed.
I have never really known human life or the world.
I only know how it appears to me, how the consciousness I am forms itself into experiences of it.
Of course, in another sense, I know human life and the world. I know this human self who seems to be around most of the time. (Apart from when I sometimes find myself as pure consciousness in dreamless sleep, and in some dreams when there is another body here.) I know the world as it’s experienced by this human self. I even know some about how it is to take myself as fundamentally this human self in the world, and object within the field of experience.
And yet, all I know, and all I have ever known, is my nature. All I know is myself as consciousness, sometimes taking all of these always-changing forms.