01 Mar Yours, mine, or no one’s?

In 1998, the American neuroscientists Botvinick and Cohen published an experiment that became known as the “Rubber Hand Illusion.” In this experiment, a participant sits at a table with a vertical screen placed on it. One hand is positioned on one side of the screen, out of sight, while on the other side of the screen lies a rubber hand—of the kind typically purchased from a novelty shop. The rubber hand is placed in the same position as the real hand on the opposite side of the screen. A brush is then used to stroke both the real and the rubber hand simultaneously, in synchrony, with identical movements and direction. Within 20 to 90 seconds, participants report the sensation that the rubber hand has become part of their body. They genuinely feel the tactile sensations from the strokes as though they were occurring in the rubber hand.

Often, at the conclusion of the experiment, the rubber hand is unexpectedly struck with a hammer. Observing the participant’s reaction reveals that they experience this event as though their own hand were being hit with the hammer. The Rubber Hand Illusion demonstrates that the brain can perceive something external as part of the self.

Professor Dr. Thomas Metzinger, director of the Department of Theoretical Philosophy at the University of Mainz, uses the Rubber Hand Illusion as an example to argue that there is no such thing as a Self. He asserts that the Self is not an autonomous entity but a process that generates the conscious experience of being someone. He refers to this as the Self-model, a continuous simulation in the brain that constructs one’s sense of Self. This Self-model is intrinsically linked to the concept of ownership, providing the feeling that what one experiences belongs to oneself. Additionally, the Self-model is malleable, fluid, and context-sensitive. It is rooted in bodily awareness within the brain.

Metzinger has also conducted extensive research on phantom limbs, a phenomenon observed in individuals who feel sensations, including pain, in an amputated body part. Remarkably, this phenomenon also occurs in people born without certain limbs, yet who nonetheless experience them as present.

Beyond the Self-model, Metzinger introduces another compelling concept, referred to in philosophy as “transparency.” He compares consciousness to a window: one looks through it, with it, and lives through it, yet cannot see the window itself. In other words, one can perceive the contents of consciousness but not consciousness itself. The medium through which information is received remains invisible, leaving one unaware of its presence.

Metzinger concludes that the Self-model and transparency together create the sense of Self. This leads to an inevitable identification with one’s experiential world.

In evolutionary biology, it is suggested that this brain process begins around the age of 2.5 years. Until that time, it appears there is no Self; life is simply experienced as it is. Literally, there is no one in the young child perceiving events as personal. When the Self begins to form in the brain, associated mechanisms are also activated. Initially, the Self creates a sense of separation from life. No longer is life experienced as a unified whole; instead, it is perceived as external, something that is observed and experienced. Concurrently, the perception of time emerges—concepts such as past and future take root, replacing the simple presence of now.

With this development, free will, choice, and responsibility arise, enabling the Self to shape itself. However, the energy of the Self is inherently restless, always seeking—never satisfied with the here and now, but constantly striving for something beyond.

The Self is not merely an abstract concept but an embodied experience. It manifests as an inward contraction, giving rise to the immediate perception that one is what one experiences. For instance, when fear is felt, the Self generates the visceral experience of “I am afraid.” This proximity to one’s experience makes it entirely convincing.

The complete identification with one’s experiential world and the Self’s perpetual quest to control, avoid, or maintain experiences are the mechanisms by which tension accumulates in relation to various aspects of life. This tension manifests within oneself and in surrounding spaces as stress or unresolved energetic charges.

As long as one remains identified with both conscious and unconscious experiences, this tension will persist. An alternative approach is to perceive experiences as simply arising within consciousness. Research by the HeartMath Institute provides empirical evidence for this perspective, demonstrating repeatedly that our initial contact with reality occurs in the heart. Like the young child, this space perceives reality as it is—impersonal, without cause or effect. It is only after this initial encounter that the Self intervenes, claiming the experience as personal and initiating the quest to explain and control it.

Before the Self attempts to seize control, there is always a moment where life simply is—unchanging and present, as it always has been and will be. In this state, one realises that no thought, emotion, or physical sensation truly belongs to oneself. Fear may arise, a negative thought may occur, or pain in the head may be felt, but none of these is inherently “yours.” They are simply phenomena happening.

When such sensations are fully experienced and recognised as transient events, an energetic shift occurs—from the contraction of the Self to the boundlessness of life. Tension is released, and harmony and balance are naturally restored.

The next time you encounter someone and feel, for example, anger in that interaction, do not lose yourself in questioning whose anger it is. Such inquiry stems from the Self or Mind, attempting to dissect its origins, assign blame, or devise ways to prevent its recurrence. Before this narrative takes hold, there is a moment when anger simply arises in your awareness, asking only to be felt and acknowledged as anger, nothing more. That is all. End the story. In this recognition, the question of ownership dissolves, leaving only life itself—raw, direct, and unfiltered.