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Chapter 16: You Can’t Be Real
The search for truth has captivated humanity for millennia. Yet, most of us look everywhere except the one place authentic truth resides—within ourselves. We are like the proverbial bumblebee whose body seems too large for its wings, yet still, it takes flight. We, too, must transcend the apparent limitations of our conditioned minds to discover the profound reality that lies beneath our constructed identities. This is not a journey of intellectual understanding or of borrowing spiritual concepts from others. It is a radical willingness to release everything we think we know about ourselves and to enter the unknown territories of consciousness where genuine transformation becomes possible. What awaits those brave enough to undertake this inner expedition is nothing less than a complete revolution in their understanding of reality itself.
My own reckoning with this truth arrived not gradually, but like a flash of lightning illuminating a dark landscape. It was July 21, 1987. During a deep meditation, as the familiar mantra “Master Teacher of the Light” repeated internally, an unexpected doorway opened. I was presented with a choice: continue steering the familiar course of my conditioned thinking or release control entirely and venture into uncharted territory. In that moment, I chose to let go of the steering wheel. I surrendered.
What followed was an extraordinary journey beyond ordinary awareness. My consciousness traveled through what I can only describe as the collective consciousness of humanity—a vast, intricate matrix of interconnected intelligence and ignorance, wisdom and folly. This passage revealed the extent to which my individual consciousness was participating in a larger field of shared understanding and misunderstanding. It was a humbling and disorienting experience, to see my own thoughts and beliefs as mere threads in a massive, ancient tapestry.
Moving beyond this collective layer, my consciousness descended further, into what felt like the womb of creation itself—a place of complete, profound darkness that, paradoxically, contained everything. It was a silence so absolute it was deafening, a stillness teeming with infinite potential. Within this void, messages emerged not as thoughts, but as self-evident truths, spoken with a clarity that was startling.
“No teacher shall effect salvation; I must work it out for myself.”
“Think no thoughts.”
“Follow new paths of consciousness.”
And then came the most challenging, most liberating, and most terrifying declaration of all, spoken not with solemnity, but with a joyful, booming laugh that echoed through the formless void:
“YOU CAN’T BE REAL.”
When I re-entered my normal state of being, that joyful laughter turned into a threatening proposition. How could I not be real? I, with my history, my profession as an electrician, my relationships, my memories—how could any of that be an illusion? For years, this statement haunted and guided me. To see again as I saw in that moment—as Truth sees—I had to be mastered by this paradoxical revelation. I had to understand that the “I” I cherished, the self I had so carefully constructed and defended, was the very thing that couldn’t be real.
What is this self that “can’t be real”? It is the ego, the sum total of all my judgments, my conditioning, my acculturation, my separation from God, from Love, from my fellow man, from Truth itself. The ego looks out from itself and sees everything and everyone as separate from it, while utterly failing to see that all it ever perceives, unto eternity, is itself. It is a house of mirrors, reflecting only its own creations. The “you” that I perceive in the world is not truly you; it is my mental image of you, an incomplete and often distorted projection that exists only in my mind. The human race tragically confuses the verbal description of a person with the actual, infinitely complex being who is always worthy of more love and acceptance than our minds can readily offer. My ego is the accumulation of all my time-based thoughts about the time-based behaviors of myself and others. To see clearly, I had to accept that my primary mode of viewing the world was through the ego’s eyes of unreality. To die to this mode of living is to be truly reborn of the spirit.
This is the core of the dynamic set up within my consciousness: “Follow new paths of consciousness” while knowing that “you can’t be real.”
If the self I believe myself to be isn’t real, then the phrase “I am” becomes the most potent creative and destructive force in my reality. Every time I attach an identity to that sacred statement, I am either forging a new path of consciousness or reinforcing an old, worn-out one.
“I am an electrician.”
“I am a son of Beryl and Corinne Paullin.”
“I am a lonely, isolated person.”
“I am angry with X, Y, or Z.”
Whatever I associate with my “I Am” either continues my journey in old directions or creates the imperative to forge new words, thoughts, and experiences around a new one. I could just as easily declare, “I am no longer traveling old paths of consciousness,” and then STOP thinking time-based thoughts, STOP rehashing old memories, and create a new life experience for myself in the present moment. This requires a profound trust in a Higher Power, in the Unknown, in the Mystery, to help me create a new, timeless self in each unique instant.
This journey inward revealed another startling truth. As I delved deeper, I discovered I was not alone in my own consciousness. There were hidden passengers, two distinct “thought forms” or identity structures that had become visible within my energy field. These were unwelcome guests, tricksters who had been influencing my perceptions and choices without my conscious awareness. I later came to understand them as internalized trauma responses, distorted psychic imprints of parental influences that had been unconsciously incorporated during childhood. They were familiar enough to provide a strange sense of companionship for my isolated ego, yet they were ultimately destructive to any authentic self-expression. This discovery illuminates how trauma becomes embedded within our consciousness, creating multiple, personality-like structures that compete for control of our thoughts and actions. It helps explain that profound internal conflict so many of us feel—the sense of being pulled in different directions by competing inner voices, each claiming to represent our “true” interests. As long as these unconscious patterns remain unexamined, they will continue to generate the same limiting thoughts, emotional reactions, and behavioral choices that keep us trapped in cycles of suffering and confusion.
The ultimate destination of this spiritual journey, however, is the fundamental recognition of “I Am.” This is not the “I am this” or “I am that” of the ego. It is the pure, unadorned “I Am” that spoke from the burning bush—”I Am That I Am.” It is the consciousness that observes my thoughts, emotions, and sensations, yet remains eternally unchanged by whatever passes through awareness. This witnessing presence is our true nature. It is not the collection of mental contents we call a “self,” but the aware space within which all experience unfolds. From this perspective, the entire human drama—the struggles, achievements, relationships, and conflicts that seem so vitally important to the personality—reveals itself as a kind of cosmic joke. It is all temporary modifications of consciousness, waves arising and subsiding within an ocean of being that remains fundamentally unaffected.
When you truly grasp this, the world’s apparent dysfunction begins to make a strange kind of sense. Most human conflict stems from the mistaken belief in separation—the conviction that we are isolated individuals competing for limited resources, rather than interconnected expressions of a single consciousness exploring itself through countless unique perspectives. When we are no longer desperately defending a false sense of self, we become free to respond to life’s challenges with skill and wisdom. This realization is the ultimate salvation, and the message from the void was clear: I must work it out for myself. No external teacher, technique, or tradition can deliver enlightenment. Guides can point the way, but each of us must navigate our own unique path.
This path forward involves developing the capacity to “think no thoughts”—not as a permanent state of mental blankness, but as the ability to rest in aware presence, free from the compulsive grip of mental commentary. This is how we cultivate “new paths of consciousness.” It requires a willingness to question every assumption, belief, and identity we hold dear, holding them lightly enough that truth can emerge through direct experience. We must release our grip on Jesus, Mohammed, or Buddha as external saviors, for that very clinging is the block that prevents our own progress on the infinite path.
To laugh with the universe at the sheer absurdity of your constructed self—this is the beginning of freedom. It is to recognize that the “I Am” is not a statement of personal identity but an echo of the divine. You are not a separate being seeking God; you are the universe experiencing itself. Your authentic truth—not borrowed from books or teachers, but discovered through your own courageous exploration of consciousness—is your unique gift to the world. The truth you seek isn’t hidden in some distant future achievement. It is alive within you, right now, waiting patiently for your recognition.
This is the eternal path along the universe’s infinite bandwidth.
Chapter 16: July 21, 1987 Revisited: The Great Cosmic Joke and the Illusion of the Self
The search for truth has captivated humanity since the dawn of consciousness. Yet most seekers look everywhere except the one place where authentic truth resides—within themselves. Like the proverbial bumblebee whose body appears too large for its wings yet still takes flight, we too must transcend the apparent limitations of our conditioned minds to discover the profound reality that lies beneath our constructed identities.
This journey of self-discovery requires more than intellectual understanding or spiritual concepts borrowed from others. It demands a willingness to release everything we think we know about ourselves and enter the unknown territories of consciousness where genuine transformation becomes possible. What awaits those brave enough to undertake this inner expedition is nothing less than a complete revolution of their understanding of reality itself—a shift from the small, egoic “i am” to the eternal, resounding “I AM.”
The Invisible Self: Recognizing Our Hidden Nature
Before transformation can occur, we must first acknowledge how invisible we’ve become to ourselves. Most of us navigate life wearing masks crafted from societal expectations, family conditioning, and survival mechanisms developed in childhood. These protective layers, while serving a purpose, ultimately obscure our authentic nature and leave us feeling profoundly disconnected from our true essence.
The journey inward often begins with a recognition of this invisibility—the dawning awareness that the person we present to the world, and even to ourselves, represents only a fraction of our complete being. This realization can be both liberating and terrifying. Liberation comes from understanding that our limitations are largely self-imposed; terror arises from contemplating the dissolution of everything we’ve believed ourselves to be.
Consider the moments when you’ve felt most authentic, most alive. These glimpses often occur during experiences that bypass the analytical mind—in meditation, nature, creative expression, or profound silence. These instances point toward the deeper self that exists beyond our mental constructions and social identities.
Genuine spiritual awakening rarely follows a predictable timeline or methodology. It emerges from the depths of consciousness when conditions align—often during moments of profound surrender or crisis. The experience of July 21, 1987, serves as an example of how truth can suddenly illuminate consciousness like lightning illuminating a dark landscape.
During deep meditation, when the familiar mantra “Master Teacher of the Light” repeated internally, an unexpected doorway opened. The experience began with a choice point—continue steering the familiar course of conditioned thinking, or release control entirely and venture into uncharted territory. This decision to “let go of the steering wheel” of mental control created space for an extraordinary journey beyond ordinary awareness.
The Descent into the Void
The subsequent experience involved traveling through what appeared to be the collective consciousness of humanity—a vast matrix of interconnected intelligence and ignorance, wisdom and folly. This passage revealed the extent to which individual consciousness participates in a larger field of shared understanding and misunderstanding—the “You” and the “Them” that shape our interactive and abstract realities.
Moving beyond this collective layer, consciousness descended into what felt like the womb of creation itself—a place of complete darkness that paradoxically contained everything. This was the realm of the Cosmic Mind, the universal citizen that encompasses all possibilities and realities.
Within this profound silence, messages emerged with startling clarity: “No teacher shall effect salvation, I must work it out for myself,” “Think no thoughts,” and “Follow new paths of consciousness.” But perhaps most challenging was the declaration that arrived with joyful, cosmic laughter:
“YOU CAN’T BE REAL.”
Spoken with joy, yet carrying implications that would reshape understanding for years to come, this statement struck at the very foundation of the ego.
The Ego’s House of Cards
To see as Truth sees, one must be mastered by this truth. “You can’t be real” is not a dismissal of existence, but a revelation about the nature of identity. The ego is merely the sum total of all my judgments, my human experience, my acculturation, and my conditioning. It is the “I-maker” (ahankara) warned of in Hindu philosophy, creating the illusion of a separate self bound to material existence.
The ego looks out from itself and sees everything and everyone as separate, failing to see that all it ever perceives is a reflection of itself. We only see what we have created. Through the ancient process of being conscious, I have created the concept of “you,” just as I have created the concept of “I.”
There really does not exist the “you” that I have formed in my mind. My perception of “you” is an incomplete mental creation, a sketch that may not be shared by others, and certainly is not shared by you. The human race confuses the verbal description or mental image of a person with the actual experience of the person—who is infinitely more complex and worthy of love than the mind can accept.
If “you” can’t be real, then everything I associate with “I” is equally suspect. Every time I identify with a person, a process, or a place, I have created a path of consciousness.
- “I am an electrician.”
- “I am a recovering alcoholic.”
- “I am a son.”
- “I am lonely.”
Whatever I associate my “I am” with either continues my path in old directions or creates the imperative to form new thoughts around a new direction. This is the trap of the small self—the limited “i am” that clings to labels and history.
The Eternal I AM vs. The Constructed Self
Here lies the great paradox and the ultimate liberation. While the constructed self “can’t be real,” there is an “I AM” that is the only reality.
Two words. Three letters. A statement so fundamental it often passes without a second thought. Yet, “I AM” is the bedrock of existence. It is the name whispered by God from a burning bush (“I Am That I Am”), the ultimate truth sought by sages, and the quiet realization that dawns in the heart of a meditator.
The mystics of the world—from the authors of the Upanishads (“Aham Brahmasmi”) to Sufi poets like Rumi (“I searched for God and found only myself”)—have always known this secret. The path to the divine lies in the dissolution of the personal ego and the awakening to a universal “I Am.”
When the voice in the void laughed and said, “You can’t be real,” it was the Eternal Subject laughing at the temporary object. It was the Ocean laughing at the wave that thought it was separate from the water.
The ego, our “hidden passenger” and “trickster,” fights for control, creating internal conflicts and trauma responses that influence our perception. It is a “thought form” that competes for the steering wheel. But when we see through the illusion, when we realize that the “I” we defend is just a collection of proprioceptive data and memories, the cage door opens.
The Cosmic Joke
From this expanded perspective, the entire human drama appears as a kind of cosmic joke. The struggles, achievements, and conflicts that seem so vitally important to the personality reveal themselves as temporary modifications of consciousness.
This realization doesn’t diminish the importance of compassionate action. Instead, it provides a foundation of inner stability. When we’re no longer desperately defending a false sense of self, we become free to respond authentically. We see that the dysfunction of the world stems from the mistaken belief in separation—the conviction that we are isolated individuals competing for resources rather than interconnected expressions of a single consciousness.
Working Out Your Own Salvation
The most crucial understanding emerging from deep spiritual experience concerns personal responsibility. No external teacher, technique, or tradition can deliver enlightenment. If the pilgrim is still clinging to concepts of Jesus, Mohammed, or Buddha as their savior, that clinging itself becomes the block preventing further progress on the infinite path of spiritual transcendence.
You must work it out for yourself.
The path forward involves developing the capacity to “think no thoughts”—not as a permanent state of blankness, but as the ability to rest in aware presence without being driven by mental commentary. This practice creates space for direct perception to emerge, allowing us to respond to life from wisdom rather than conditioned reactivity.
To “follow new paths of consciousness” while recognizing that our constructed self “can’t be real” creates a powerful transformative dynamic. We can choose to say, “I am no longer traveling old paths,” and stop rehashing old memories. We can trust in the Unknown and the Mystery to create a new “timeless self” in each unique moment.
The Infinite Bandwidth
Your truth—not borrowed from books, teachers, or traditions, but discovered through your own courageous exploration of consciousness—represents your unique gift to the world.
The “I Am” is not something to be achieved; it is the truth of who you already are, waiting patiently beneath the noise of the mind. It is the cosmic mind recognizing itself through a human vessel.
Begin wherever you are. Trust the intelligence that brought you to this moment. The truth isn’t hidden in some distant location; it is alive within you right now. It is the eternal path along the Universe’s infinite bandwidth.
And when you finally find it, don’t be surprised if you hear laughter.
first attempt:
Chapter 16: You Can’t Be Real
The search for truth is humanity’s oldest and most profound quest. It has driven philosophers into agoras, mystics into caves, and scientists to the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Yet, for all our outward exploration, the most fertile and challenging territory remains within. Most seekers look everywhere except the one place where authentic truth resides—the silent, aware space of their own consciousness. Like the bumblebee, whose body seems to defy the laws of aerodynamics yet still takes flight, we too must transcend the apparent limitations of our conditioned minds to discover the profound reality that lies beneath our constructed identities. This is not a journey for the faint of heart. It demands a radical willingness to release everything we think we know about ourselves and to step nakedly into the unknown territories where genuine transformation occurs. What awaits those brave enough to undertake this inner expedition is nothing less than a complete revolution of their understanding of reality itself—a moment where the universe, with a cosmic laugh, reveals its greatest secret.
During a deep meditation on July 21, 1987, such a moment arrived. As the familiar mantra, “Master Teacher of the Light,” repeated internally, an unexpected doorway opened. A choice point presented itself: continue steering the familiar course of conditioned thought, or release the wheel entirely and venture into the uncharted depths of consciousness. In choosing to let go, an extraordinary journey began, one that would culminate in a message so paradoxical, so hilariously absurd, and so deeply liberating that it would take years to fully comprehend:
“YOU CAN’T BE REAL.”
The Divine Laughter: Realizing You Can’t Be Real
This statement did not arrive as a cold, philosophical axiom. It burst forth through my own being in a voice filled with joyful, uproarious laughter. It was the sound of the universe telling its own punchline. In that moment of expanded awareness, the statement was pure, liberating truth. But upon returning to the ordinary state of consciousness, its echo became a profound, even threatening, challenge. How can “I” not be real? I feel, I think, I suffer, I love. This body, these memories, this name—surely, this is me.
To understand this cosmic joke, one must first understand the comedian: the ego. The ego is the sum total of our judgments, the accumulation of our human experience, our conditioning, and our perceived separation from God, from Love, from our fellow man, and from Truth itself. It is a phantom architect, building a reality based on division. The ego looks out from its fortress of self and sees everything and everyone as separate. It sees “me” and “you,” “us” and “them,” constructing an elaborate matrix of mental distinctions that has almost no correspondence to the underlying unity of existence.
We live almost entirely within a world of our own mental creation. The “you” that I perceive is not you; it is a ghost, an incomplete mental image that exists only in my mind. This perception is a collage of past experiences, future expectations, and present judgments, a simplified caricature of your infinite complexity. We confuse the verbal description of a person with the actual, living, breathing being who is, regardless of appearances, immeasurably more complex and worthy of love than our minds can readily accept. The tragedy of the human condition is that we fall in love with, go to war against, and build our lives around these phantoms.
This is the tyranny of the time-based mind. The ego is the constant narrator, rehearsing old memories, scripting future encounters, and passing judgment on the present moment. It is a non-stop commentary track that we mistake for reality. To accept the truth that “you can’t be real” is to begin the sacred process of dying to this mode of living. It is to be reborn not of flesh, but of spirit—a spirit that dwells in the timeless now, free from the prisons of judgment. When you know, in your bones, that the self you have so carefully constructed is an illusion, the entire dynamic of consciousness shifts. You are no longer a noun, a fixed entity. You become a verb—a process of pure, moment-to-moment becoming.
The Eternal “I AM” and the Prison of Identity
If “you” can’t be real, then the very foundation of identity, the statement “I am,” becomes the most critical junction in consciousness. Every time we declare “I am,” we are at a crossroads. We are either forging a new path of awareness or reinforcing a worn-out track that leads back into the labyrinth of the ego.
Consider these statements:
“I am an electrician.”
“I am a recovering alcoholic.”
“I am a spiritual person.”
“I am lonely.”
“I am angry.”
Each of these declarations, however true it may feel, attaches the limitless power of “I AM” to a finite, time-based concept. The “I AM” is the signature of God, the pure, unconditioned pulse of being. When we say, “I am an electrician,” we are pouring the ocean of existence into the thimble of a profession. We are taking the timeless and binding it to time. This is not to say that professions, feelings, or roles are meaningless, but they are what we do or what we experience, not who we are. The ego clings to these identities because its very survival depends on them. Without a story, without a label, the ego dissolves.
The historical accumulations of mankind’s understanding—our sciences, our philosophies, our religions—are magnificent and complex structures built by the collective ego. From the perspective of the unified “I AM,” they are like elaborate sandcastles built by children on the shore of eternity. One who unifies with the eternal “I AM” can only look upon this vast edifice of human knowledge and laugh. It is not a laugh of derision, but a laugh of profound love and compassion. It is the laughter of a parent watching a child who is utterly convinced that their game of make-believe is the ultimate reality. The game is beautiful and important, but it is not the Truth. The Truth is the child itself, the player, the consciousness behind the game.
The path forward is to reclaim the purity of “I AM.” To consciously say, “I am no longer traveling old paths of consciousness,” and then to stop. To stop the endless rehearsal of old memories and grievances. To stop defining ourselves by our past traumas or future anxieties. This requires a terrifying leap of faith. It requires trusting in a Higher Power, in the Unknown, in the Mystery, to create our “timeless self” in each unique, unfolding moment. It is to stand naked before existence, without the armor of identity, and allow life to live through us.
