The Stranger Who is Myself

I am sometimes stunned to find that the man I discover myself to be is a stranger that I seem to be meeting for the first time.

As we discover our true selves it can be like meeting a stranger. Someone often more daring, present, creative, loving, expressive, wise, capable, believable and beautiful than we’ve come to believe ourselves to be.

Who is this person who suddenly appears in my consciousness as apparently me? 

The old identity, the false identity is far more familiar and accessible.

Its odd to see this new man in the mirror where I used to stand. 

But there he is. Strong, capable, whole, at peace, focused and ready to move mountains that the old reflection wouldn’t dare dream move.

My attention has shifted. I am awake now in my witnessing of self. No longer hypnotized by decades of lies.

When I forget – when I fall back asleep, the old identity can steal back in and resume playing his part.

It takes a bounty of patience and love to take the time and make the space for my true self to become as familiar as the old.

Until the practice is no longer necessary. Until this new skin is as comfortable and natural as my breath that comes and goes without thought or effort.

Until I am at home and at ease with this man, no longer a stranger. 

This man who is myself.