I am not my parents.
Mid-20th-century French philosophers wrote a lot about the mirror phase of development, or the point at which human babies begin to see themselves as separate from the world around them. (It’s been a decade since I studied all that, but I’m pretty sure Lacan was one of the authors I spent a lot of time tripping on in grad school.)
Consciousness tells us we are separate from what’s around us. It’s a convenient illusion that enables our carcasses to attempt to remain animated for a while.
Some Buddhists talk about how attachment is the source of suffering, and detachment can lead to peace. What if I’m attached to the idea that I’m attached to everything else–that separation is just an illusion? Guess I picked a bad lifetime to give up psychedelics.