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On the one hand there's nobody there but you. On the other, for example, when you're just sitting there thinking about nothing in particular, there's the distinct impression that there's at least one other you there: the you you think is doing the thinking, and the you you think you're thinking about.

This is not such a profound revelation. It's quite common knowledge. Inside your head there are at least two completely equal, and only somewhat fictional selves. And each of your selves is you.

Playing for real.

We all talk about it. We surprise our selves. Love our selves. Beat our selves up. We fool our selves, laugh with our selves. Laugh at our selves.

We talk to our selves. Sing with our selves. We remind our selves.

We don't let our selves forget. We drive our selves harder. And we drive our selves crazy.

We punish our selves, arouse our selves, abuse our selves, delight our selves.

We stop our selves, deny our selves, reward our selves, deprive our selves.

We are proud of our selves, ashamed of our selves.

And all the time we are just playing that there's somebody else there. Each of us. This is what I refer to as the Inner Playground, where everything we can think of can happen, where any of our selves can be pretended into being or not. This is where we find our selves playing when there is no there there.

Where there's nobody there but us, our Self.

from The Playful Path, by Bernie de Koven