I’ve just spent some time looking at things I was writing in 2010 (thanks to the Internet Archive) and restoring these pages to my blog. It’s always fun and weird to look at yourself at a snapshot in time, as the same person at a different stage of the same journey. Naturally, I didn’t agree with or even like some of what I wrote, but it all definitely was me. It got me thinking about the nature of being an individual, who is experiencing a never-ending moment but evolving around this experience.
My conscious self remains the same as experiences and understandings change. It seems like I’m different to who I was before. It’s just funny to look at who we were, and remark that just as then, we thought so much of us was “us,” when really it was transient.
I occasionally have a fear of death, and not so much the unknown, but more that I don’t know what of myself I might take. Reading old writings, like old journals, reminds me that I’ve already lost basically all of what I once thought of as me.