“Me”, “Myself” and “I”

I’m doing the blog thing. Or rather, it’s being done. Right now. By no one.

Makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it?

It shouldn’t. Because it is an utter paradox: There is no one, yet there is “me”. There is a real palpable sense that there is a “me” within the confines of this body, looking out through these eyes, pausing with theĀ  thought: “what to write next”. A doer deciding, then acting out.

A quickening of the heart at the idea that the “me” seems so real, yet isn’t supposed to be there. There is the doubt that “I” am getting this. The fear that “I” am fooling “myself”, and a long pause as the mind searches itself for the perfect thing to write, and the thought: “Why is the mind involved in this, isn’t it supposed to entertain itself and not be taken seriously anymore by ‘me'”?

There is the discomfort, the performance anxiety. Will it be revealed that the “me” is still here? Will “others” see the “me” in “me”.

All of these thoughts, emotions, the act of typing arise moment by moment. The idea of a “me” arises with all of it’s life-like features.

But even this – this palpable feeling of a “me” arises for no one.

Ha! Thought it was going to go away, did you? And who would have thought that?