My body was born.
My personality was shaped by this life.
The story I tell myself belongs to this lifetime.

But the thing behind all that, the aware presence that knows I am here right now, was never born. It cannot die. It cannot be harmed because it is not physical. It does not belong to time.

Call it soul. Call it consciousness. Call it awareness.

It is the silent witness underneath every thought, every emotion, every fear, every victory, every version of me.

That is who I really am.

Everything else is just a temporary expression. Bodies come and go. Emotions rise and fall. Stories change. Identities change. Lives change.

But the presence that is aware of all this, that never changes.

And I did not arrive at this understanding overnight.

I have felt that presence before in moments of pure clarity or peace. In those seconds I am not trying to be anyone. I am simply here. Pure being. Pure awareness.

That is the real me.

I remember one night in ceremony. I saw how the body arrives alone and leaves alone. The body returns back to the earth. But the soul, the spirit, the essence behind all of this—it felt untouchable. Beyond pain. Beyond fear. Something older than this lifetime. It transcends.

It has taken a while for me to see this. With each lesson and each experience, I slowly stopped thinking of this life as the full story. I stopped looking outside for answers. Instead of searching for something far away or unknown, I realized I am already here. The awareness I have been trying to understand has been here all along. Inside this body. Inside this breath. Inside this moment.

This is not something to figure out.
This is something to feel.

So before searching outside yourself for answers, sit still.
Slow down enough to notice one simple truth.

The real you has always been here.