I don't like peeing. I don't like pooping. Or eating for that matter. I have trouble reconciling myself as a metabolizing being with being a "self". It just doesn't make sense to me. If I exist, why do I have to do these mundane things as a requirement?

I don't like breathing. As an eternal and infinite being, why am I hypothetically constrained from moving about the universe by this tiny, thin sliver of oxygen atmosphere clinging to this planet? It's just a few miles thick, and negligible in cosmological terms.

I am not this eating, peeing, pooping organic machine. That isn't what defines me or my "self". It's a biological marker, a flag planted to claim territory – this immediate space I currently happen to occupy.

Remove the eating, the drinking, the pooping, the peeing, the breathing, the heart beating, the neurons firing, the blood pumping, the sweating, the cells metabolizing, the muscle, the bone, the skin, and that's one step closer to my true self.

The danger, however, is thinking that in all this non-existence is the goal. My true self certainly exists. I don't deny my existence or my continued existence whether I'm here or not. Just that this 'I' that is here now doesn't define my existence nor is the outer limit of it.