There is a moment—quiet, subtle, but unmistakably real—when you sense that the “you” looking out from behind your eyes is not the same as the body you inhabit. It might happen during meditation, a moment of grief, a near-death brush, or simply when you catch yourself thinking, How can I be both the watcher and the one being watched?
That moment is the doorway to remembering who we truly are.
Most of us were raised to believe that the body is the self. We identify with the face in the mirror, the name on our driver’s license, the aches, the aging, the flaws, the limitations. But according to countless spiritual traditions—and echoed powerfully through Darius J. Wright’s out-of-body experiences—the body is not our identity. It’s our instrument. It’s our temporary vehicle. It’s the avatar through which the soul experiences this world.
The real “you” is not physical at all.
The Soul as the True Self
When Wright describes leaving the body, he speaks of an immediate recognition: I am still me. Personality intact. Awareness intact. Identity intact. The soul isn’t a vapor or a ghostly echo—it is the true, solid, conscious, eternal version of you.
The body feels real only because we’re immersed in the illusion of physicality, just as a dream feels real until the moment you awaken.
The soul, on the other hand, is:
- Limitless: It can exist anywhere, move without restriction, and expand beyond form.
- Intelligent: It retains memories, identity, and intention.
- Creative: It shapes reality with thought, emotion, and will.
- Eternal: It existed before you were born and will continue long after the body is done.
If the body is the car, the soul is the driver—not the passenger, not the mechanic, but the one behind the wheel choosing the journey.
The Body Is Temporary—But Meaningful
Calling the body “temporary” doesn’t diminish its importance. Your body is the precise expression you chose for this life experience: its genetics, its strengths, its challenges, even its vulnerabilities. Everything about it aligns with what your soul came here to learn, create, feel, and transform.
But the body was never meant to define you.
Illness, aging, weight, pain, appearance—none of these can touch what you truly are. The soul cannot be harmed, disfigured, or diminished. It cannot be stained by mistakes, failures, or regrets. It remains whole even when the body breaks.
This is why people who have near-death experiences often describe feeling more alive outside the body than inside it.
Because the soul is life itself.
Why We Forget
If our true identity is the soul, why don’t we remember?
Because forgetting is part of the design.
To experience separation, fear, time, and limitation, we must temporarily believe the body is the self. We must forget the infinity we come from so we can rediscover it from the inside out. Earth is a realm of contrast—a place where the soul learns by temporarily experiencing what it is not.
We are not disconnected.
We are not powerless.
We are not fragile.
We are not the body.
The moment we begin to remember, suffering begins to dissolve.
Living as the Soul While Still in the Body
Awakening isn’t about abandoning the body—it’s about no longer mistaking it for the whole truth. When you live from the awareness of the soul:
- Fear softens. You realize nothing can truly be lost.
- Love expands. You see others as souls on their own journey.
- Intuition sharpens. You hear your inner guidance more clearly.
- Purpose becomes clearer. You remember why you came here.
- Compassion deepens. You understand the struggles of the human experience.
You begin to walk through life differently—not as someone trapped in a body, but as a soul temporarily expressing through one.
A Quiet Invitation to Remember
Close your eyes for a moment.
Feel the awareness watching your thoughts.
Feel the presence that exists before words.
Feel the stillness behind the breath.
That awareness is not the brain.
That stillness is not the body.
That presence is not temporary.
That is you.
Not the personality.
Not the story.
Not the wounds.
Not the flesh.
You are the soul—eternal, boundless, luminous, and unimaginably powerful.
The body is the classroom, the costume, the instrument.
You are the consciousness playing the music.
And once you remember that, even for a moment, life begins to change.
