When we believe that we are a separate fragment encapsulated inside a body, navigating our way in a fractured universe, we inevitably feel anxious, deficient, incomplete, insecure. We think we are someone who needs to get somewhere and accomplish something, that we are the author of our thoughts and the maker of our choices, that we (and everyone else) should be better than we are. We seek relief from our uneasiness and dissatisfaction through possessions, knowledge, power, money, sex, intoxicants, spiritual experiences, etc., all of which ultimately leave us unsatisfied and disappointed.
But if we turn our attention to direct experience instead of learned ideas, can we find an actual boundary where "inside of me" turns into "outside of me," or is the boundary a mental image like the line on a map between two countries? If we open to the bare sensations of our discontent without thinking about it, do we find anything substantial, or simply ever-changing vibrations, appearing and disappearing? What if we look for the thinker of our thoughts or the maker of our choices? Doesn’t every breath, heartbeat, thought, interest, impulse, action and choice emerge from an unfindable source? And what about the awareness beholding this whole movie of waking life, the awareness that sees thoughts as thoughts? Is that perceivable? Does that have a shape, a size, an age, a gender, a nationality, a life situation, a place where it begins or ends? And is there any actual boundary between awareness and the content of awareness, between subject and object?