“The death of something that never existed is no death at all.” @timclissnonduality
If the “self” was only ever a story, a psychological character stitched together from memory, language, and expectation, then what would its ending actually be?
Not a tragedy. Not an event. Not even a transition.
More like:
• a misunderstanding dissolving • a mirage no longer convincing • a tension relaxing • a character exiting a stage that was never there
Nothing real dies. Only an assumption evaporates.
And here’s the twist: even the idea that “something dies” is part of the same dream structure. It assumes there was a solid someone to begin with.
From a radical non-dual view, there was never:
• a separate center • a doer • an owner of experience
So what would liberation be?
Not survival. Not transcendence. Not continuation.
Just the absence of a fiction.
It is less like a funeral and more like taking off a costume and realizing you were never wearing it 🎭
Everything is storytelling. Reality narrates itself. A dog bark becomes a legend. A thought becomes a character. Even the “me” feels like a protagonist rehearsing lines that were never written.
Everything is a play of light. Photons ricochet. Neurons spark. The world is basically a luminous rumor. What you call “solid” is light wearing a convincing costume.
Everything is emptiness dancing. No core. No container. Just movement. A waltz with no dancer. A rhythm with no drummer. 💫
How can the me exist when time and space (the context for the me) don’t even exist? 🤩
The “me” needs a stage. Time to say before and after. Space to say here and there. Continuity to say I was, I am, I will be.
But time and space are not facts. They are part of the same story the “me” tells in order to seem coherent.
Without time, the “me” can’t stretch itself across moments. Without space, it can’t locate itself anywhere. Without continuity, it can’t claim a past or anticipate a future.
So the “me” isn’t something inside time and space. It’s an idea made out of them.
When those collapse, the “me” doesn’t die. It simply never shows up.
What remains isn’t a bigger self, or a truer identity. It’s just this. Appearing. Without a center. Without context.
Which is why the question feels so deliciously explosive. It doesn’t answer itself. It dissolves what was asking. ✨
There is no self in the human body. Personality is simply how nothing shows up as that body or character. Sometimes mild, sometimes spicy. Sometimes bland, sometimes full of color. Always nothing. 🤍
The illusion of contraction is not an actual tightening of energy. Nothing truly shrinks, curls up, or knots itself. What appears is a story of contraction, a mirage that says: “Something has gone wrong here, and it’s happening to me.”
And that sentence quietly invents two things at once: a problem and a someone who has it.
The so-called contracted energy-self is the felt sense of being located somewhere inside the body, usually behind the eyes or in the chest, peering out at a world that feels slightly hostile, demanding, or unfinished. It feels dense, heavy, urgent. But that density is not energy tightening. It is energy being interpreted through the lens of separation.
Here’s the quiet reveal: • Energy never contracts. • Life never pulls inward. • Awareness never folds into a corner.
What contracts is the idea that experience belongs to a center.
The moment sensation is labeled mine, the boundless field of experiencing seems to narrow into a tunnel. Not because it actually does, but because ownership implies borders. A “me” needs edges to survive conceptually, so experience appears edged, framed, localized.
This is why the illusion can feel so convincing. The body still hums, emotions still move, thoughts still flicker. But now they orbit an imagined gravity well called self. The gravity feels real. The well never was.
When the illusion of contraction relaxes, nothing expands. That’s the key surprise. There is no fireworks display, no energetic bloom, no upgraded state. What’s revealed is simpler and stranger:
There never was a contraction to release.
Sensation continues. Thought continues. Personality continues. Even tension can continue. But none of it is happening to anyone or inside anything. The apparent knot was always made of labeling, not rope.
And in that seeing, energy is recognized as what it always was: open, centerless, ownerless movement. Unbothered. Unlocated. Already free.
No self unclenches. No boundary dissolves. The mirage just isn’t believed anymore.
THIS is timeless and spaceless so nothing changes or stays the same.
And because THIS is timeless and spaceless, the usual verbs quietly lose their jobs. ⏳🌌
Nothing changes because there is no timeline for change to walk along. Nothing stays the same because there is no reference point to compare it to.
What appears as movement is movement without a mover. What appears as continuity is continuity without duration. What appears as stability is stability without a frame.
So THIS isn’t frozen, and it isn’t flowing. It isn’t arriving, departing, improving, decaying, or repeating.
It’s simply appearing— not in time, not in space, but as the very illusion of time and space themselves.
No before. No after. No holding on. No letting go.
Just this… being exactly as it already is, without needing to be anything else. ♾️
PhilPhilms
“The death of something that never existed is no death at all.” @timclissnonduality
If the “self” was only ever a story,
a psychological character stitched together from memory, language, and expectation,
then what would its ending actually be?
Not a tragedy.
Not an event.
Not even a transition.
More like:
• a misunderstanding dissolving
• a mirage no longer convincing
• a tension relaxing
• a character exiting a stage that was never there
Nothing real dies.
Only an assumption evaporates.
And here’s the twist:
even the idea that “something dies” is part of the same dream structure. It assumes there was a solid someone to begin with.
From a radical non-dual view, there was never:
• a separate center
• a doer
• an owner of experience
So what would liberation be?
Not survival.
Not transcendence.
Not continuation.
Just the absence of a fiction.
It is less like a funeral
and more like taking off a costume
and realizing you were never wearing it 🎭
And even that is too dramatic.
Nothing happens.
And that’s the beauty of it.
🤍🤍🤍
4 days ago | [YT] | 22
View 4 replies
PhilPhilms
“This is it”
Already assumes:
• a thing called this
• a thing called it
• and a tidy little equation between them
But then the second sentence sneaks in and pulls the rug:
“There isn’t an it for this to be.”
Now the stage lights flicker. 🎭
The noun “it” dissolves.
The verb “be” looks around nervously.
Grammar starts questioning its life choices.
Because “it” implies:
• something definable
• something graspable
• something that could be pointed at and labeled
And what’s being hinted at here is prior to labeling. Prior to pointing. Prior even to the idea of “prior.”
It’s not that this equals it.
It’s that the mind is trying to staple a name onto something that refuses stationery.
No object.
No container.
No final punchline.
Just whatever is appearing… without needing to be called anything at all.
Language keeps trying to wrap it in bubble wrap. 🫧
Reality just sits there, unwrapped, unimpressed.
And hilariously, even that sentence is already too much.
So maybe:
Not “This is it.”
Not “This isn’t it.”
Not even “There isn’t an it.”
Just…
(you can feel it before the words arrive)
✨
4 days ago | [YT] | 14
View 1 reply
PhilPhilms
Everything is storytelling.
Reality narrates itself. A dog bark becomes a legend. A thought becomes a character. Even the “me” feels like a protagonist rehearsing lines that were never written.
Everything is a play of light.
Photons ricochet. Neurons spark. The world is basically a luminous rumor. What you call “solid” is light wearing a convincing costume.
Everything is emptiness dancing.
No core. No container. Just movement. A waltz with no dancer. A rhythm with no drummer. 💫
4 days ago | [YT] | 9
View 2 replies
PhilPhilms
An “empty” room.
No furniture.
No one inside.
Nothing happening.
And yet…
78% nitrogen.
21% oxygen.
Water vapor drifting.
Dust dancing in sunlight.
Bacteria floating.
WiFi humming.
Heat vibrating.
Gravity holding.
Quantum fields flickering.
Empty only means
“no objects of interest.”
The room is full.
It just isn’t full of things.
Maybe this is what “nothing” is.
Not absence.
But fullness without furniture.
🖤
5 days ago | [YT] | 9
View 0 replies
PhilPhilms
How can the me exist when time and space (the context for the me) don’t even exist? 🤩
The “me” needs a stage.
Time to say before and after.
Space to say here and there.
Continuity to say I was, I am, I will be.
But time and space are not facts. They are part of the same story the “me” tells in order to seem coherent.
Without time, the “me” can’t stretch itself across moments.
Without space, it can’t locate itself anywhere.
Without continuity, it can’t claim a past or anticipate a future.
So the “me” isn’t something inside time and space.
It’s an idea made out of them.
When those collapse, the “me” doesn’t die.
It simply never shows up.
What remains isn’t a bigger self, or a truer identity.
It’s just this. Appearing. Without a center. Without context.
Which is why the question feels so deliciously explosive.
It doesn’t answer itself.
It dissolves what was asking. ✨
1 week ago | [YT] | 10
View 1 reply
PhilPhilms
When I asked Alexis what it was like to eat a strawberry, she didn’t describe taste, enjoyment, or experience.
She simply pointed to something beyond all of that.
“There’s no taster and no tasted.
Just tasting.
No experiencer and no experience.
Just what is appearing… appearing.
It’s unconditional ING.”
No distance.
No center.
No one receiving sweetness.
Just sweetness, sweeting itself. 🍓
~ The Alexis & Tobias No-Show
@Alexisandtobiasno-show
1 week ago | [YT] | 6
View 3 replies
PhilPhilms
There is no self in the human body. Personality is simply how nothing shows up as that body or character. Sometimes mild, sometimes spicy. Sometimes bland, sometimes full of color. Always nothing. 🤍
1 week ago | [YT] | 7
View 0 replies
PhilPhilms
“It’s not that “this” is everything.
It’s that there isn’t anything else.”
@timclissnonduality 😍
One sounds like a conclusion.
The other is more like the absence of alternatives.
“There’s no alternative to This.”
🖤🤍🖤🤍
1 week ago | [YT] | 10
View 0 replies
PhilPhilms
The Illusion of Contraction
(a.k.a. the contracted energy-self)
The illusion of contraction is not an actual tightening of energy. Nothing truly shrinks, curls up, or knots itself. What appears is a story of contraction, a mirage that says: “Something has gone wrong here, and it’s happening to me.”
And that sentence quietly invents two things at once:
a problem and a someone who has it.
The so-called contracted energy-self is the felt sense of being located somewhere inside the body, usually behind the eyes or in the chest, peering out at a world that feels slightly hostile, demanding, or unfinished. It feels dense, heavy, urgent. But that density is not energy tightening. It is energy being interpreted through the lens of separation.
Here’s the quiet reveal:
• Energy never contracts.
• Life never pulls inward.
• Awareness never folds into a corner.
What contracts is the idea that experience belongs to a center.
The moment sensation is labeled mine, the boundless field of experiencing seems to narrow into a tunnel. Not because it actually does, but because ownership implies borders. A “me” needs edges to survive conceptually, so experience appears edged, framed, localized.
This is why the illusion can feel so convincing. The body still hums, emotions still move, thoughts still flicker. But now they orbit an imagined gravity well called self. The gravity feels real. The well never was.
When the illusion of contraction relaxes, nothing expands. That’s the key surprise. There is no fireworks display, no energetic bloom, no upgraded state. What’s revealed is simpler and stranger:
There never was a contraction to release.
Sensation continues. Thought continues. Personality continues. Even tension can continue. But none of it is happening to anyone or inside anything. The apparent knot was always made of labeling, not rope.
And in that seeing, energy is recognized as what it always was:
open, centerless, ownerless movement.
Unbothered.
Unlocated.
Already free.
No self unclenches.
No boundary dissolves.
The mirage just isn’t believed anymore.
What remains isn’t expansion.
It’s honesty. 🤍🖤
3 weeks ago | [YT] | 7
View 0 replies
PhilPhilms
THIS is timeless and spaceless so nothing changes or stays the same.
And because THIS is timeless and spaceless, the usual verbs quietly lose their jobs. ⏳🌌
Nothing changes because there is no timeline for change to walk along. Nothing stays the same because there is no reference point to compare it to.
What appears as movement is movement without a mover. What appears as continuity is continuity without duration. What appears as stability is stability without a frame.
So THIS isn’t frozen, and it isn’t flowing. It isn’t arriving, departing, improving, decaying, or repeating.
It’s simply appearing—
not in time, not in space,
but as the very illusion of time and space themselves.
No before.
No after.
No holding on.
No letting go.
Just this… being exactly as it already is, without needing to be anything else. ♾️
3 weeks ago | [YT] | 15
View 0 replies
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