This is probably the method that has helped me grow the most...
Even if I couldn't really explain it.
Sometimes, I meditate "without me".
I hear my thoughts, my desires, my worries.
But it's not me. They aren't mine.
I'm aware that they come from my brain. I know that, if I wanted to, I could take them into account, act on them.
But no.
They are content with no more importance than the rest.
They are on the same level as the flickering light or the blaring horn: phenomena that I perceive, yes, but that don't belong to me. Over which I have no control.
Buddhists call this Anatta: not me, not mine.
Nothing that arises is tied to me.
Or rather, for a moment, I reconsider my link with my thoughts, my body, my emotions.
And I realize that this link is a fabrication. A habit.
That the relationship of ownership and belonging is an illusion.
What's more, when I look for that famous "me" during meditation, and a truck drives by in the street, I find nothing inside but the sound of the truck.
For ten seconds, I am that sound. And that's all.
Then I become the birdsong. The tension in the elbow. The thought about my work. The smell of the floorboards...
There is no more me.
And it's deeply restful.
The entity that had all those problems no longer exists.
The person who carried that anxiety, who handled those responsibilities, who suffered from those insults, that person has dissolved.
They can no longer be hurt.
They've become the wind, the storm. The sound of water. The smell of bread.
A succession of experiences with no center.
That cannot be wounded. That is no longer early or late for anything.
That can no longer be blamed for anything.
That is here. That's all.
Without me.