From the moment we are born, we are given a name, a label, an identity shaped by parents, by culture, by the circumstances of the world we enter. We grow up believing this is who we are, a singular, contained being moving through time, a self with a past, a present, a future. But what if that sense of self is an illusion? What if the I we so strongly identify with is nothing more than a collection of fleeting experiences, thoughts, and memories, constantly shifting, never solid, never truly graspable?

For centuries, philosophers and scientists alike have questioned what it means to be someone. The Buddhists teach that the self is impermanent, ever-changing, ultimately empty of any fixed existence. The Hindu Upanishads describe the Atman, the higher self, as something far beyond the ego we cling to. In the West, David Hume argued that there is no core self, only a “bundle of perceptions” passing through consciousness. We feel continuous, but in reality, we are like a flame—always burning, always changing, never the same for even a moment.

And now, modern neuroscience echoes what ancient wisdom has long understood. The brain does not contain a single, unified self, but rather a collection of processes, constantly updating, reshaping based on new experiences. What we call “me” is nothing more than a story the brain tells itself, a narrative constructed from scattered memories, electrical signals, and conditioned responses. But if the self is an illusion, then who is thinking these thoughts right now?

Science is catching up with what the mystics have always known—we are not fixed beings. Dr. Joe Dispenza’s work on neuroplasticity and meditation reveals that the brain is not a static machine, but a fluid, ever-changing network that reshapes itself based on focus, repetition, and belief. Our thoughts, quite literally, create our reality. Not in some abstract, mystical sense, but in a biological, measurable way. A person who constantly thinks, I am anxious, reinforces that identity at the neurological level, carving pathways in the brain that make anxiety more automatic, more familiar. But if that same person learns to shift their thoughts, if they practice feeling calm, capable, and empowered, their brain rewires itself. The illusion of self is not just that we are separate—it is that we are unchangeable. The you of yesterday is not the you of today. Every thought, every experience, every moment creates a new version of you.

So if we can change at any time, who are we, really?

Jean-Paul Sartre would argue that we are condemned to be free. There is no fixed essence, no divine script that defines us. We are simply here, free to create ourselves in every moment. And yet, for many, this realization is terrifying. If there is no stable, unchanging self, then what grounds us? What gives life meaning? Sartre’s answer was choice. You are not your past. You are not your circumstances. You are only what you decide to be right now. Every day is a blank slate, an opportunity to rewrite the story.

But that kind of radical freedom comes with responsibility. If we are truly free to become anything, then we must consciously choose who we want to be. And most people? They don’t want that responsibility. They cling to old identities, even painful ones, because familiarity is safer than uncertainty. The idea that we are free to reinvent ourselves at any moment is not just liberating—it is overwhelming.

And if we take this even further, the concept of self begins to dissolve in the face of quantum mechanics. The observer effect in quantum physics suggests that reality itself is not fixed until it is observed, that the act of looking, of perceiving, shapes the world we experience. Could it be that identity works the same way? That we are just possibilities waiting to be defined? That the self, like the universe, is a fluid, shifting field of potential, never truly separate, never truly still?

Is the I we believe in nothing more than a momentary ripple in a vast ocean of consciousness, always moving, always changing, never solid, never confined?

If the self is an illusion, if we are not bound to a single identity, then how should we live?

We could see this realization as terrifying, the loss of a stable self like standing at the edge of a void. Or we could see it as the most freeing discovery of all. Because if we are not fixed, then nothing about us is permanent. We are not our past mistakes. We are not the thoughts that limit us. We are not bound by who we have been. We are possibilities.

Dr. Joe Dispenza would say that the way forward is simple—decide who you want to be and practice becoming it. If identity is just a construct of repeated thoughts and emotions, then changing the mind is changing the self. Sartre would remind us that there is no blueprint for life, no external validation that tells us what is “right.” We must create meaning for ourselves, in every decision, every action, every breath. And the mystics, from Buddhism to quantum physics, would whisper that there was never anything to find—because the self was never separate in the first place.

So who are you?

Are you the same person who started reading these words? Or have the thoughts, the questions, the shifts in perception already created someone new?

Perhaps the real answer is that you are not the thoughts. You are not the mind. You are the awareness watching it all happen. And that awareness? It is infinite.