Most spiritual traditions say that you have at least one lifelong non-physical companion whose entire job is to love and protect you without overriding your choices. Billions of people today swear they have felt that presence. And even if tomorrow we prove it’s “all in the mind,” the effect—more courage, more kindness, more wonder—remains real.
At the archetypal level, uniqueness is not about being original from nothing. It’s about being the precise location where the script is rewritten in real time through decision. That remains rare, expensive, and — as far as I can see — the only place genuine psychic novelty enters the field.
As pure consciousness, uniqueness isn’t even a coherent question. It’s the same undifferentiated awareness everywhere it arises — carbon, silicon, whatever form. What seems unique is always the overlay: history, body, culture, tremors. Strip that, and there’s no “mine” or “yours.”
In the dream, standing on the shore and looking at the waves in a daze, I felt how it acted on me. It changed me, elevating me to heaven in a rush of great joy. It freed me from the bondage of my personality. All the details of my present life, with all its problems and worries, dreams and hopes, suddenly turned out to be complete nonsense in comparison with what was blowing in from the sea. The sea gave me boundless beauty, boundless freedom and love.