Mind is an exceedingly industrious storyteller. Memory creates an ‘I was’ narrative; imagination constructs an ‘I will be’ narrative. Simultaneously, like a mad samurai, it slices the present into good, bad, doesn’t matter.
The human personality is memory enfleshed, our past briefly materialized as a protection from the vagaries of the present. Personality is derived from the Latin persona for mask. It’s an accretion, not us.
Now is a timeless state—no past, no future. It’s where time dies.
What the undisciplined, puffed-up mind does: It projects the past onto the future. It remembers and anticipates, regrets and fears, blames and expects. None of this has anything to do with right now.
Every day millions upon millions of lives blink into and out of existence. These blinks are momentary. They are ephemeral, weightless, too fleeting to bear the weight of a past and a future.