The Self You’ve Been Seeking is Already Here

Delusion of Lack and Freedom of Becoming Nobody

By: Cheng Tong - Apr 07, 2026

 

We often treat awakening as a destination—a distant mountain peak we must climb through sheer effort, “magic” mantras, or intellectual gymnastics. But there is a persistent shadow that follows the practitioner: the Delusion of Lack. It tells us that who we are right now is insufficient, and that the peace we seek is always just one more book, one more form, or one more retreat away.

In my work with students, I see this delusion manifest in two primary ways: the Abyss and the Shield.

The Fear of the Abyss

I see students who have done the work. They have quieted the chatter and reached a point where the ego—the “I” that narrates every moment—begins to dissolve. And in that moment, they are seized by a cold, primal terror.

They see the Abyss. The ego screams: “If you step into that silence, you will cease to exist!” But the Abyss is not a hole; it is the Fullness. In Daoist thought, we call this Wuji—the state of infinite potential. It feels like “nothing” only because it contains everything without the clutter of our labels. To the student at the edge: You aren’t falling into a vacuum; you are falling into the Dao. You are simply shedding a “Somebody” that was too heavy to fly.

The Weight of the Shield

Then there is the student stuck in the pain of the past. To protect a “Somebody” who was once hurt, they build a shield. They tell themselves, “I will never let that happen again.” This feels like safety, but it is a rigidity that makes you breakable.

In the internal arts, we know that if you are rigid, you give your opponent a handle to throw you. The Shield of your past pain is that same rigidity. You are “lacking” the joy of today because you are over-invested in the “security” of your yesterday. Your true nature was never damaged by what happened to you; only your armor was bruised.

The Comfort of the Robe: My Return from the Temple

I remember standing at this threshold myself. After my first year living in the temple, the rhythm of the drum and the mountain air felt like a second skin. As my flight back to my daughters drew near, I began to agonize: Could I live what I had learned once I returned to society?

I was terrified of losing the “Somebody” I had become in the stillness. I was clinging to that “robe” of spiritual identity, afraid that without the temple, I would dissolve. When I landed, I was immediately overwhelmed by the “noise” of humankind—the endless hustle, the multitasking, the frantic striving. I felt the vertigo of the Abyss and the urge to pull up my Shield.

But then, a realization surfaced: Everyone takes this test every day.

The question isn’t whether you can preserve a spiritual identity. The answer is to stop trying to be “Someone” who is spiritual and simply Become Nobody.

The Practice of Being Available

Becoming Nobody is the end of the war. When you are “Nobody,” you have no target for the world’s arrows. You don’t have to protect a reputation or a history.

How do we do this in the “noise” of the world?

• Simply be.
• Keep breathing.
• Practice presence with yourself and the moment you are in.

When you drop the need to be “Someone,” you make yourself available for life to happen. You realize that the self you’ve been seeking isn’t waiting at the end of a journey; it is the one who is already here, finally standing still enough to let the world flow through.

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