The access to who we really are is on the other side of our limited idea of ourselves. The stories and narratives we have about ourselves are invariably based in limitation. They are coping mechanisms we, or more precisely the ego-based part of us, adopted when we were children in response to the events of our life.
The ego by its very nature is egoistic. Through its perspective, the parent snapping at us is not about their exhaustion, stress, depression—but about us and our inadequacy. It’s not a sign of the parent’s inability to cope, but a sign that there’s something wrong with us, that we don’t deserve better, or that we are not enough. The ego is self-centred and it always views and explains events as pertaining to itself—which results in its narratives of limitation whenever its needs are not met.
The ultimate reason for that is fear. The ego fears for its existence and the threat it feels—that it’s not safe, that it doesn’t belong, that it’s not enough—propels it to create and sustain an illusion that it’s in control, as this illusion builds a sense of safety, albeit illusory itself.
But on the other side of the ego-based part of us, on the other side of all the confining stories we have about ourselves, is our true nature—the essence of who we are and that we came with, based in pure freedom, love and possibility. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.
We may have amassed a bunch of subconscious stories about ourselves and packed them on top of and around our true essence—but they don’t and can never negate our true nature. And as we peel back the layers of falsehoods, the confining stories, the limiting ideas, all aspects of who we are not, we get closer and closer to who we are. In the absence of the idea of who we are, who we truly are remains.