HOW OFTEN DURING THE DAY DO WE REMEMBER OURSELVES? How many times and for what duration? However we answer, what's happening the rest of the time? What do we call that? Have we ever thought about that? Likely, no. Why is that?

When I'm not in the state of self-presence, when the attention is not consciously inhabiting the body, what state am I in? We've read about it, we've all talked about it. But does this other state come readily to mind?

I mean, I get through the day. I get by. Some days are better, some days not. I work, relate, eat, return home. Go through the habit-honored routines and go to sleep, physical sleep. And so it goes.... Not to worry. I have a soul. It won't be dust to dust. I'm too important. I have a soul. Isn't that the root idea of my life?

Some 5,000 and more years ago there was another idea. The ancient Egyptians believed one had to make a soul. The original belief was that only the pharaoh could make a soul. Then the idea of soul-making included the nobles. Later, everyone could make a soul. At some juncture the belief passed from everyone making a soul to everyone having one. That was certainly comforting. But then the idea arose that though you had a soul you might also lose it, depending on the way you lived.

About 3,000 years ago Moses went up the mountain, spoke to God, and returned with the Ten Commandments. It was God's prescription for how to live. Over time, these 10 rules expanded to over 500 rules. About 2,500 years ago the ancient Greeks introduced philosophy, rationality, the love of wisdom. Some 2,000 years ago Jesus Christ introduced the idea of salvation through faith in God. And 1,400 years ago Mohammed spoke to Allah. Allah is everything. If you don't surrender your life to Allah you're an infidel. And then less than 100 years ago another Messenger from Above appeared. We had no soul, he told us, but could make one. So now the long trajectory of time comes full circle.

But do I truly accept that I have no soul? If I cannot really accept this other state, this wall of "I"s, when I am not in remembrance then....

I read I have no indivisible I, no free will, cannot do. I am just a bundle of "I"s. Now something strange happens, a kind of mental ju-jitsu. Because linguistically I comprehend what I read, I think I am reading about other people—not myself. It's not volitional. A psychological buffer separates me from what I am reading. It keeps me asleep in the belief that I am an indivisible I.