June, 18th, 2005
The strangest experience in my life is the mirror-realization, something that I experience every few months. It occasionally happens when I look into a mirror. I do not recognize the person I see; he seems quite alien. I stare at him as I would stare at a complete stranger. Who is this person, I ask myself. He seems so meaningless, so petty in his individual concerns, so completely lacking in substance. The universe will take no notice when he dies. The sense of "I" disappears completely. "I" am now some ethereal existence, some disconnected and totally objective force. "I" has no ego, just a sense of serene oneness with the universe. "I" exists outside of Chris Crawford, and feels a paternalistic sympathy for his pettiness, his childishness, his narrow self-centered view of existence. "I" would like to help him see, but realizes the utter futility of any such effort; Chris Crawford could never rise to such a level.
The experience lasts a few short seconds; the larger "I" starts to fade and Chris Crawford begins to resurface. Chris Crawford’s first reaction is to try to extend the experience, to hold onto this greatness for as long as possible, but it always ends with the last echoes of my mental cries, "Don’t go!" reverberating against an emptiness.