As I sit here eating a sandwich, I happen upon the notion that the sandwich gets broken down and some of the material is then integrated into my body. If I am built upon the molecules of many meals where then do my meals come from?

Whether it’s composed of various meats or vegetables the result if traced back comes externally. I might have the locomotion to move about the surface of the planet but is there really a separation between me and what I am composed of? I don’t think so, but I do give my “self” the impression that I am.
My name was given to me by my parents. My knowledge of any subject comes from the aide of others who likely derived it from nature (it’s not theirs either). Behaviors learned too. Perhaps what I am is what I came into this world with and what I know of that is it is in all ways inherited. If this psychology is not my own is not even me?

I am the world. There is no other place to come from or arrive to. Truth is a pathless land (Krishnamurti).
This life becomes a dream where every person or thing you meet is not separated but rather a unique manifestation.

It is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but retire a little from sight and afterwards return again – Emerson

Felt like posting random thoughts.