The One It All Belongs To
There’s something about the sense of “me”
that feels almost unquestionable.
Not because it’s been proven…
but because it’s always been assumed.
A quiet centre point.
A felt someone… here…
to whom all of this is happening.
And most of the time, it goes unchallenged…
not out of certainty, but out of familiarity.
But if attention turns…
not towards the idea of “me”
but towards what is actually here…
what do we find?
There’s experience… unfolding.
Sensation… moving, shifting, alive.
Thought… appearing, narrating, dissolving.
Emotion… rising and falling in its own rhythm.
Life… as it is.
But this “me”…
this one it all seems to belong to…
where is this exactly?
Not as a thought…
not as a description…
but as something that can actually be found.
Because there’s a kind of activity here.
A gathering… as if experience is being pulled
towards a centre that must be here.
“This is happening to me.”
“This is mine.”
“This is about me.”
So immediate… so intimate…
it feels like truth.
But if you slow it down… just a little…
you might begin to notice…
that even this… is happening.
Even the sense of being someone…
is appearing.
Sometimes it’s strong…
contracted… defined.
Sometimes it loosens…
becomes spacious… almost transparent.
And sometimes…
it’s not really there at all…
until thought reaches in
and names it again.
So even this sense of “I” is known.
Felt… yes.
Intimate… yes.
But known.
And if it is known…
then what is knowing it?
What is known…
cannot be what you are.
There’s nothing here to fix.
Nothing to get rid of.
No requirement to stop the movement of “me”.
It can continue… quite freely.
But something begins to soften
when it’s seen for what it is.
Not a solid centre…
not a fixed identity…
but a movement…
within what is already here.
And what is already here…
doesn’t need to become anything.
It isn’t hidden…
it isn’t waiting to be found…
it’s simply… what remains
when nothing is being claimed.
Not distant.
Not detached.
If anything… more intimate than a “me” could ever be.
Because it isn’t standing apart from life…
trying to relate to it…
it is life…
already… fully… as it is.
So the invitation isn’t to remove the illusion…
but to see through it… gently.
To notice…
that what you are
was never inside the “me”…
and never needed it
to be whole.
Join Imogen for Weekly Zoom Groups, Sunday Satsang Gatherings, Retreats and other events. Book a 1-1 Session or explore Imogen’s other offerings at beyondimogen.com.
You’re also warmly invited to explore her two other Substack spaces — Imogen’s Satsang: video recordings from live gatherings, and The End of Seeking: a podcast Imogen co-hosts with her husband, Martyn.
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Thank you for walking alongside me ~ Imogen