On waking up

I think a have awakened, now what?

I believe I have awakened, or at least had a deep self-realization. It isn’t about becoming special or different, or about rising above everyone else. Instead, it feels more like I’ve peeled away layers of illusion to finally see clearly what’s always been here. It’s not a grand event but rather a simple falling back into the truth of what I am.

This journey wasn’t something that happened overnight. After a breakup, I found myself completely absorbed by a need to understand my ego. I became fascinated with the stories it created, the strange and random thoughts, and the accompanying waves of anxiety. Observing this was almost like watching a machine work, seeing each piece move but not quite understanding why.

I was astounded to see my ego going crazy like that, especially as I’ve considered myself a very stable and relaxed person for the last decade, given all the self-development work I’ve done. I also have a background in Zen meditation, and I returned to my practice. I began devouring books on the direct path, insight inquiry meditations, and listening to podcasts with various teachings. The direct path made a lot of sense to me and felt like the way to go, I guess also because it reminded me of the Koan practice in Rinzai Zen that I adore. So that aligned. I started writing little notes on all the insights I had, which over time became a book. I think the process of writing and then reading back what I wrote accelerated the process.

This journey became all-consuming. It’s something I recognize in myself - a tendency to go deeply, almost obsessively, into one thing. I needed to understand the ego fully. I wanted to know what evolutionary purpose it served, why it kept producing these endless thoughts and emotions, and why I continued to identify with it. As I started to gain more respect for it, I think I could also start to see it as a piece of machinery that wasn’t me. I think this was the first subtle step to let it go a little, to have some separation between me and the ego.

Then, while traveling to Thailand for a yoga retreat (something I never do, but just booked hastily after the breakup as a sort of escape), something profound happened. Mid-flight, the phrase ’the watcher is the watched’ finally clicked. It was no longer just a concept; it was a direct experience. That understanding was like the first domino falling. Within a minute, another realization followed: everything arises in awareness. And then, the third domino fell - I understood that everything is awareness itself, that this is all there is. As I understood that everything is awareness, I also understood that I am not here, that there is no self, that it’s just emptiness.

Then the bottom dropped out. My mind jolted, and suddenly there was this expansive feeling of just being. I was immersed in a vast, empty space, realizing that all experiences arise here, and there’s nothing else. This wasn’t some altered state or fleeting high; it was a deep, grounded shift in how I perceived reality. Even now, writing about it brings tears to my eyes because it was that profound, that deeply moving.

After landing for a layover in the Middle East, I sat in the airport, still immersed in this state. Everything felt like it was flowing through me, carrying a subtle sweetness, a bright vibrancy, like reality itself was moving through me, and I was simply the medium. I remember a couple nearby arguing, but the sounds registered without reaction - they were just sounds, no different from any others in the airport. Despite the aggression beside me, I felt completely tranquil.

In Thailand, this sense of presence stayed with me, but I found it unsettling because I didn’t fully understand what was happening to me. I found a meditation teacher who thankfully spoke English, and we had a good talk. He explained that I had made significant steps and that now it was important to stabilize. His advice helped me make sense of what was unfolding. During my time there, I wrote even more, capturing what I was experiencing and what insights were emerging.

When I returned home, I contacted two people from the Sangha, teachers, to confirm what happened and to get their insights, and essentially ask them this big lingering question I had: Now what?

Looking back, I can also see there was a buildup over the five months leading up to this experience, with different insights gradually pointing toward this shift. One of these moments came during a men’s group plant medicine trip, but there were various others that all pointed to the same realization. Each of these was like a small hint, a nudge toward what was finally revealed in full.

I’m seeking out others who might understand, finding support groups where people share similar experiences. It’s oddly comforting to read and hear their stories. Some find this shift unsettling or even depressing. After all, once you see the emptiness of it all - once you understand that the ‘self’ is just a construct, a character that isn’t real - there’s not much else. It’s a fundamental change in your reality.

There is this surprising mixture of timelessness, love, connection, relaxation, and emptiness that I hadn’t expected. I can see the ego from a distance and watch it ‘doing its thing,’ but it doesn’t seem to affect me in the same way. There’s an awareness that all is one, that mind chatter is background noise, that there’s no true ‘center’ to experience. You are not experiencing; even the ‘you’ is another experience in this awareness. Consciousness is the fabric that everything arises and fades into, sometimes with sudden laughter, deep feelings of love for others, and other subtle, beautiful insights.

This stage has come with an unexpected sense of loneliness. Even the people around me who are ‘spiritual’ don’t fully grasp what this is like. Crossing this line into a deeper experience - one that goes beyond understanding into a more fundamental knowing - has shifted everything. I can see why it’s hard for others to relate; I was once on the other side too, unable to imagine what this experience would truly be like. And perhaps the strangest part of all: I don’t feel as though I ‘did’ this. It feels like it happened to me, like it came over me naturally. While I was seeking, yes, now that it’s here, it doesn’t feel like an accomplishment. It simply…is.

What does waking up mean, then, at least in this phase? In a nutshell, it’s cutting through the ego, no longer identifying with it, and understanding that everything is awareness. But it doesn’t mean I’ve become a Buddha or that my ego and all its contractions and conditioning have vanished. That wouldn’t make sense; I’ve been conditioned all my life, and those patterns don’t just snap away in a day. No one who has woken up has had that happen. And I think waking up is almost like waking up from a dream. It is just the next phase, waking up from reality. But you will still be a little confused when you wake up. Everything has to settle. And although I am no longer identified with the ego, it is obvious the ego is still there, and it still clouds consciousness on a daily basis. In Zen (and other paths) there are many steps after this first step - and I only really understand that now.

The difference now is in how I see reality. There’s a tranquil stillness within, a place to rest, a space untouched by those old identifications. And yet, I know this is only the beginning, with many more steps ahead. There’s also a sense that there’s no way back to the old self. This is both unsettling and sensible, as I know I can’t lie to myself anymore or tell myself the story that I am truly here in the way I once thought. I’ve seen the truth, and there’s no return.

I plan to share more about these steps soon, but I think it’s important to clarify that I’m not some kind of Buddha who is entirely Zen all the time. There’s still work, still conditioning, and still life to live from this new place of understanding.

I feel very grateful for everything that has led to this moment. ❤️