The Mirror: What’s Costume? What’s Soul?

“The heart is more deceitful than all else And is desperately sick; Who can understand it?

I, the Lord, search the heart, I test the mind, Even to give to each man according to his ways, According to the results of his deeds.” — Jeremiah 17:9–10

This passage reveals the complexity of self-awareness and divine discernment. While the human heart can deceive—even its owner—God examines beyond appearances, into the intentions and outcomes of our inner life.

“But prove yourselves doers of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves.

For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks at his natural face in a mirror;

for once he has looked at himself and gone away, he has immediately forgotten what kind of person he was.” — James 1:22–24

This speaks directly to the illusion of self-awareness without action—a mirror that reveals, but a soul that forgets.

“Depression is your body saying, ‘I don’t want to be this character anymore.’” — Jim Carrey (on identity)

Introduction: The Personal Awakening

I’ve been staring into the mirror—not to fix my appearance, but to confront something deeper.

I’ve been asking: What’s been installed into me… and what was always mine?

What thoughts, beliefs, and behaviors are simply the result of programming—family, school, culture, survival—and what, if anything, remains when all of it is stripped away?

Programming: identity scripts installed before you had discernment.

This isn’t a surface-level inquiry. It’s a deep dissection. A peeling back. A reckoning.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there be any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way.” — Psalms 139:23-24, (This is David inviting divine introspection—asking not only to be known, but to be transformed)

I once thought I had to “find” myself.

Now I realize—I have to subtract what isn’t me.

And what’s left… that’s the work.

That’s the mystery…

What follows is the blueprint I wish someone gave me when I began this process. It doesn’t promise clarity overnight. But it does give you the questions that peel back the mask and help you remember who you were before the world told you who to be.

The Crisis Behind the Reflection

“Before we can become who we really are, we must let go of who we think we are.” — Thomas Merton

You feel like a stranger in your own life.

Your career doesn’t resonate anymore. Your relationships feel like obligations. Your passions? Muted. Distant. Like someone else’s dreams you inherited by default.

Every day you play a role. And every night, you wonder why you feel so hollow.

Here’s the truth:

Most of your identity wasn’t chosen.

It was assigned.

You didn’t become “you”—you became what was expected of you.

And now, as you wake up, you realize you’ve been performing someone else’s life.

What Alan Watts Knew (And Why It Matters Now)

Alan Watts once said:

"What you are in your in-most being escapes your examination in rather the same way that you can't look directly into your own eyes without using a mirror, you can't bite your own teeth, you can't taste your own tongue, and you can't touch the tip of this finger with the tip of this finger.” — attributed to Alan Watts

"A knife doesn't cut itself, fire doesn't burn itself, light doesn't illuminate itself. It's always an endless mystery to itself.” — attributed to Alan Watts

You don’t access the self like a file. You observe it—by noticing what it’s not.

Reality becomes the mirror. Your job, your habits, your beliefs, your reactions—they reflect back what’s inside.

The question isn’t, “Who am I?”

It’s: “What isn’t me?”

Because only in removing what isn’t you—do you finally see what remains.

This is subtraction-as-self-discovery.

It’s spiritual minimalism.

It’s sculpting the soul by chipping away everything that isn’t it.

The Problem: You’ve Been Programmed to Perform

From birth, you were trained.

  • To fit in (not stand out).

  • To be obedient (not sovereign).

  • To seek approval (not alignment).

  • To win praise (not pursue purpose).

You were taught that survival depends on performance—so you built your identity around what pleased others and avoided punishment.

This is programming.

It’s the software that was installed before you had a firewall i.e., **discernment.

And now that you’re awakening, you feel the tension:

“If I stop “performing”… will I still be loved? Will I still be safe?”

You’ve mistaken the costume for your character.

But the costume wasn’t made for you. It was made for the system …by the system.

The Idea: Subtraction is Self-Discovery

You don’t “find” yourself by stacking on more layers of identity, labels, or validation.

You find yourself by removing the scripts.

You deprogram.

And what’s left—what doesn’t need to perform, please, or prove—that’s your soul.

Here’s how you know you’re getting close:

  • You stop trying to explain yourself.

  • You feel peace in silence, not anxiety.

  • You create without needing applause.

  • You live without needing permission.

You realize:

The truest parts of you are the ones that don’t need to be seen to be real.

What Happens When You Strip the Costume Off

When you peel off the layers, something beautiful happens:

  • You feel rooted—like your choices mean something.

  • You act from truth, not reaction.

  • You magnetize people, opportunities, and ideas that align with your core.

  • You stop chasing… and start attracting.

You gain clarity. Because now, instead of asking, “What should I do?”—

You ask: “What resonates with who I actually am?”

That’s power. Quiet, unshakable, internal power.

How to Begin the Deprogramming Process

Here are five reflections to help you strip the costume and find the soul:

  1. Audit Your Roles

    Ask: “Who would I be if I weren’t a [job title], [family role], or [social label]?”

    Then sit with the silence that follows.

  2. Notice the Scripts

    When you hear yourself saying something—pause. Ask: “Is this something I believe? Or something I was told to repeat?”

  3. Trace the Praise

    Identify what you’ve always been praised for. Ask: “Did I adopt this trait to feel safe? Or does it express my soul?”

  4. Follow the Resistance

    The things you avoid—the dreams, the changes, the risks—are often doorways. Ask: “Is this fear… or a frontier?”

  5. Curate Your Input

    The media, voices, books, and energy you absorb shape you. Ask: “Does this help me remember who I am—or distract me from it?”

Dissenting Perspectives: “But Isn’t This Just Another Identity Quest?”

Some will say:

“All this self-reflection is just navel-gazing. Just pick a role and commit. Be useful.”

Others might argue:

“There’s no such thing as a ‘true self’—we’re all just products of our environment anyway.”

And to some extent, they’re right.

Yes, we are shaped by our environment. And yes, roles give life structure.

But here’s the distinction:

You aren’t rejecting structure. You’re rejecting the unconscious acceptance of structures that suffocate your spirit.

The difference isn’t what you do—it’s whether you chose it, or it was chosen for you.

Alignment isn’t found in rebellion for rebellion’s sake. It’s found in awareness.

You don’t need to burn it all down.

You need to build something true.

What the Mirror Will Tell You—If You Listen

If you stay with this work long enough, something quiet and sacred will emerge.

It may not speak in words.

It may arrive in the form of an image, a memory, a calling, or a tear.

It will feel like coming home.

And you’ll realize:

You are not the reflection in the mirror.

You are the one behind the eyes, looking in.

You are not a product.

You are a becoming.

And this becoming is not about adding more.

It’s about letting go.

Not so you can lose yourself—

But so you can finally meet the soul that’s been waiting all along.

Ask yourself this tonight:

“What part of me am I still performing to be accepted?”

And what might happen… if I stopped?

You might lose the role.

You might lose the applause.

You might even lose some people.

But you just might gain your soul back.

And isn’t that the whole point?

Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat (Fortune Favors The Bold)

Thank you for reading,

—Lawrence