Returning to the Garden: Beyond the Illusion of Self

Imagine a time before separation, before the mind splintered itself into “me” and “you.” In that state, there was no concept of self, no desire to build walls or accumulate possessions. Life simply moved, whole and interconnected, without the need for boundaries. In such a state, there is no “me” distinct from “you,” no inner voice constantly evaluating, judging, or fearing. This unity is not just an abstract idea; it is a reality experienced by countless cultures, both ancient and modern, where people live as part of an inseparable web of life, where self and other dissolve into the same flow of existence.

Yet somehow, in the story of humanity, we chose a different path. Many traditions describe this split metaphorically, like the story of Adam and Eve. When they tasted the fruit of knowledge, they became self-aware, seeing themselves as separate from everything else. They hid from each other, covered their nakedness, and experienced shame—a reflection of the division that had begun in their minds. They left the garden, not because they were punished, but because the idea of “self” had been born. This story is not just about a distant past; it’s a tale that speaks to the state of humanity today. In stepping away from unity, we’ve created an illusion of self that drives our actions, our desires, and ultimately, our suffering.

So, what is this “self” we’ve created? The self is not a thing we can touch or hold. It’s a series of thoughts, stories, and memories layered upon each other. It’s the habits we form, the things we cling to, the fears we nurture, and the desires we chase. The self is born from unresolved moments, from experiences that stick to us and shape our character. These thoughts build on each other, forming words and actions, which in turn solidify into habits. Eventually, these habits create a persona—a character we call “me.”

This “me” is constantly defending itself, seeking validation, and attempting to overcome the perceived threats around it. It’s a process of clinging to an identity, desperately trying to keep it alive. But this self is not who we are. It’s a mirage, a construct that hides the vastness of our true nature. Our true self, the self that lies beneath this surface, is timeless, beyond the limitations of thought and story. It’s the quiet space of awareness that exists before any concept of “me” arises.

To return to ease, we must see through this illusion of self. We must let go of the stories, the identities, and the beliefs that keep us trapped in separation. Indigenous cultures understand this deeply; they see life not as a collection of individual selves, but as a unified flow of existence. They know that suffering arises when we cling too tightly to our small self, to the ego that demands constant attention and security.

In moments of true ease—when we dance, play, or lose ourselves in laughter—we experience a glimpse of this unity. We dissolve into the flow of life, free from the burdens of self. It is in these moments that we understand, as countless traditions have taught, that “there is no you.” The self is merely a ripple in the vast ocean of existence. When we let go of this ripple, when we release the need to cling to an individual identity, we find ourselves back in the garden, back in the state of ease we were born to inhabit.

This journey back to ease is not about improving the self; it’s about releasing it. It’s about seeing through the illusion and reconnecting with the part of us that is eternal, unchanging, and whole.