It starts with the sense that something is deeply wrong with this experience I call life. At first, it is a fleeting thought. Sometimes a moment of clarity is quickly hidden by the clouds of distraction and responsibility. I decide that this sensation is worth understanding, and I am determined to create space in the world where I can explore it. But that time and space are under constant attack by a demanding outside world reluctant to cede any ground. I fend it off as long as I can, and then I see it in the corner for one brief moment: the painful chaos of the world stops, everything is in slow motion, and I look in awe at the most right thing I have ever seen. Everything makes sense, and I know who I am in this moment.
It doesn’t last long, and the world tackles me and drags me back to a life of toil and consumption. I will myself never forget what I saw. Time passes, and I grow older. Routine sets in, but a deep discontent settles into my soul, exploding into a persistent malaise I cannot shake. I only want the pain to end. I remember what I saw so many years ago, but I doubt my memory and am reluctant to abandon the worldly dreams I have built. I doubt that I actually saw something that could solve my current problems. It persists, and I curiously open the notes of a younger man. I’m intrigued, and I keep reading. I feel a familiar spark of curiosity and hope… I keep reading. I take one last look at my shattered dreams, then away and resume a journey I had abandoned nearly two decades earlier.
Older and wiser now, I successfully create a small space to resume looking for that thing I saw. I study the notes written by a younger, more naive version of myself and remember that I had seen it. Invigorated with a toolset from years of professional and personal development, I pick up the pace. Disappointments mean I am ready to admit what a younger version of myself would not: what I seek is not out here. I can see where I was getting hung up years earlier and swiftly move past these obstacles. Within a short period, I figure it out and articulate it in a way I never could before:
I am in pain because I am lost.
I do not want to be in pain anymore.
I repeat this many times until I believe it. This is all I need. I do not need a treatise: I only have to accept that I am in pain and I want to heal. This discovery opens the door to every question I need to ask and every answer I need to find. I come to call it the Selfist Model.
I am in pain because I am lost and do not want to be in pain anymore. I do not know who I am or where I am. I have forgotten, and my own beliefs obscure the truth. The Selfist Model restores me to my rightful place: the absolute center. There is nothing without me. I am the common denominator in absolutely everything because it is through my experience and observation that everything — physical, mental, emotional, or sensational — is given substance. I am the manifester of the only reality there is: mine. I have always been here and I always will be. Everything I have believed to this point is wrong and is preventing me from getting Home, where I am not in pain anymore.
I am in pain because I believe I am lost. I do not want to be in pain anymore, so I must find my way back Home. It is Home I seek. The Selfist Model is my map. Iamism is my journey to rebuild my map and escape the pain of awakening.
…