The Observer

You swing underwater, suspended in a vast blue abyss. Silent. Weightless. Infinite.

And yet—you are here. Aware. Watching. Observing.

Who are you?

If I were to ask, you might reply:

“I am Jane.”

“I am 25 years old.”

“I live in Argentina.”

“I am a painter.”

But those are just labels. Fragments of a story you’ve been told to believe. They are not you .

Strip them away. Peel back the layers. Who remains when the name fades? When the job dissolves? When the roles crumble?

The Illusion That Breaks You

Let me ask again:

Who are you?

Are you your thoughts?

Then tell me: What will your next thought be?

Pause.

Did you notice? For a moment, there was silence. No thought. No label. Just… presence.

Did you cease to exist in that stillness? Or did something deeper emerge? Something unchanging. Eternal. Aware.

You realize now: You are not your thoughts. They come and go like waves, but you—the observer—remain.

But oh, how painful it is to confront this truth. How terrifying to see that everything you’ve clung to—your identity, your roles, your stories—is an illusion.

Because if you are not your name, your age, your job, your body… then who are you?

The Continuity of Being

Think back to your earliest memory. A child, perhaps, staring at the stars. Wide-eyed. Wondering.

That same awareness exists within you now. Unbroken. Unchanged. From birth to this very moment, you have been the silent witness behind every experience, every dream, every heartbeat.

Who looks when you look?

Who hears when you hear?

Who dreams when you sleep?

It is you . The one who watches. The one who observes.

Call it what you will:

The Hindu “Atman.”

The Buddhist “Self.”

The Judeo-Christian “Soul.”

Names matter little. What matters is this:

You are. Here. Now. Consciousness itself. Presence itself.

But why does this realization hurt so much? Why does it feel like losing yourself?

Because you’ve spent your entire life building walls around who you think you are. And now, those walls are crumbling. Leaving you raw. Exposed. Vulnerable.

The Seat of Consciousness

Imagine ceasing to exist. Imagine being unconscious. Can you?

No. Because consciousness is not something you do —it is what you are . The most sacred word in your vocabulary: I AM.

You are the experiencer. The observer. The one seated in the seat of consciousness, watching the mysteries of life unfold.

From this perspective, everything shifts.

The roles you play—artist, friend, lover—are temporary. The emotions you feel—joy, fear, anger—are fleeting. Even the body you inhabit will one day dissolve.

But you —the observer—remain.

And yet, this realization can break you. It can shatter everything you’ve ever believed about yourself.

Because if you are not your thoughts, your emotions, your body… then what are you?

You are the infinite. The eternal. The unchanging.

Awaken to Truth

So I ask you once more:

Who are you?

And now, understanding the distance between you and your labels, you and your roles, you and your thoughts—you respond:

“I am. I am the one who watches. I am The Observer. I am pure consciousness and absolute presence.”

Feel it. Know it. Embrace it.

This awakening will not be gentle. It will evaporate every illusion you’ve built. Everything you’ve believed. Everything you’ve feared.

Because here’s the truth:

You are not the swing swaying underwater. You are not the helmet enclosing your head. You are not even the man or woman others see.

You are the one who sees.

And in this knowing, you transcend.

The Catharsis

Now, sit. Sit in the seat of consciousness. Watch as the world dances before you. Thoughts arise and fall. Emotions swell and fade. Experiences come and go.

But you—the observer—remain untouched. Unmoved. Infinite.

And in this realization, you find freedom. Freedom from fear. Freedom from identity. Freedom from the illusion of separation.

For you are not separate. You are the ocean in which all waves rise and fall.

But oh, how it hurts to let go. To release the illusion. To surrender everything you’ve ever known.

Because in letting go, you find yourself.

So tell me:

Who are you?

And as you answer, remember this:

You are not what you think you are.

You are far greater. Far vaster. Far more infinite.

You are the observer.

You are the witness.

You are the eternal “I AM.”

Because you are already whole. Already complete. Already infinite.

You just forgot.

And now, you remember.

I love you.