Convinced that the thing I identify with/call *my self* is but the minuscule moments between possessions & that it seems to be all of my experience just because of an inspection paradox: 'normal consciousness' is what's there when I look because it *is* the looking
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I heard an analogy of a fridge light. am I conscious is like asking if the fridge light is on. whenever you open the door to look, the lights on. whenever you look to see if you're conscious, voila. the looking turns the lights on. you're always conscious whenever you check.
I guess also, weird & interesting things begin to happen when you look at the thing that does the looking
