The Illusion of Identity: We are not what the world makes us

Swan lifting foot out of water

There are moments in life when we realise that the world we thought defined us never truly did. We believe we are the sum of the people around us, the roles we occupy, the things we’ve achieved or lost, the praise or criticism we receive. We believe these things define who we are. And then something happens, a moment that invites us to turn away from that world of form. To turn inward. To stand in and with the quality within.

This is the story of such a moment.

Years ago, I was scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef, Australia, working towards my PADI license. We were taken on a ten-hour boat journey far from land to an isolated point in the ocean where the coral was still vibrant, alive, recovering from years of damage. The instructors dropped anchor beside a coral bombie, a coral outcrop that rises up from the ocean floor. We were literally in the middle of nowhere. No land in sight. Just endless ocean.

We got in the water and started the dive. The coral bombie was extraordinary, magnificent colour and sea life. As I gently paddled around it, I had sight of tangible reference points that gave me a sense of place. Even though it was illegal to touch the coral, I could at least see it, along with the other scuba divers, the hull of the boat, plenty of fish and the resting tiger sharks.

And then it happened. No, not a shark attack!

I was curious. I slowly turned my body away from the coral bombie. With each degree of rotation, the reef disappeared from my view, and within seconds, I was surrounded by nothing but deep blue. There was nothing but endless blue before me, filling my peripheral vision too. The water went on endlessly in every direction. There was no floor. No people. No physical form. No ceiling. No seeming limit. Just endlessness.

And in that moment, I was suddenly terrified.

My breath quickened and I spun back toward the reef, desperate for a visual sign. Desperate for a reference point. Without any, I realised how much I had been relying on external form to give me a sense of place, a sense of me in relation to the world around me.

The self defined by things ‘out there’ – relationships, professions, possessions, appearance, gender, age, achievement. It represented everything used to shape identity, to feel secure in the world.

But when we begin to turn away from that false self, the one that only exists in relation to others, even momentarily, and turn toward our inner essence, it can feel terrifying if we do not yet have a conscious awareness and appreciation of it first.

Our essence does not come from the world. It is not something that can be given by another person, made better or taken away by this world, or anything that we experience within it. It is not achieved. We arrive with it. It is there to unfold forth into the world, to be expressed in full.

In the vast, blue expanse, I was confronted with the truth: I did not know how to be without my reference points. My identity had been a product of accumulating life experiences. The absence of form left me disoriented, exposed.

Over time, I began to explore what it meant to delve deeper. I did not leave the world or turn my back on people, but to stayed and worked on being present. I practised being in stillness. Developed a relationship with what I am in truth.

I opened myself more deeply to reading the energy of things, the unseen, rather than rely on the physical alone, just the things I could register with my 5 senses.

I began to realise that I am not what I do, what I own, or what others say about me. I am something deeper, more constant, an everpresent quality.

We can live life, but do not have to be at the mercy of the everchanging movements of others. We no longer need to take it personally or feel mortally wounded when another disagrees with us or doesn’t validate us. We don’t have to feel discombobulated or lose ourselves in reaction – because we are connected within.

So perhaps the invitation is this: to turn slowly, and whilst feeling the trepidation that rises as the form changes or disappears, Stay. I often say to myself in challenging situations: Stay. Staying connected with myself. In the face of the unknown, staying present and consciously with myself, supports me to receive clarity of what my next true move is. Whether that be to say something, remain silent, walk away or walk towards.

If I move aligned to my essence, and thus am moved in truth, then everyone benefits from that universal movement. We can call that Love.


Sara Williams writes with the understanding that knowledge is not owned; when its source is Ageless Wisdom, it is accessible to and known by all. These reflections are drawn from therapeutic work, themes that arise across many client sessions and life in general. All identifying details are removed, and confidentiality is always protected.