the concept of self

this monologue is from one of my favorite moments in midnight mass by michael flanagan.

Untitled (2021). Part of my Formations collection.

The following is an excerpt from a pivotal scene in Midnight Mass, wherein Erin Greene (Kate Siegel’s character) gives an epic monologue about the concept of self. By the end of it, I found myself quietly sobbing. It was one of those scenes that you can’t help but be struck by. And keep thinking about years later. I know so many of us, especially with all the tumult and uncertainty happening in this world, are going through it right now. So I wanted to take this moment and remind us all of our humanity and purpose of existence by sharing the entirety of this magnificent quote:

“My self.” That’s the problem, that’s the whole problem with the whole thing.

That word. Self. That’s not the word. That’s not right, that isn’t. That isn’t…

How did I forget that?

When did I forget that?

The body stops a cell at a time, but the brain keeps firing those neurons. Little lightning bolts, like fireworks inside, and I thought I’d despair or feel afraid, but I don’t feel any of that. None of it. Because I’m too busy. I’m too busy in this moment remembering…

Of course.

I remember that every atom in my body was forged in a star. This matter, this body is mostly just empty space after all. And solid matter, it’s just energy vibrating very slowly, and there is no “me.”

There never was…

The electrons of my body mingle and dance with the electrons of the ground below me and the air I’m no longer breathing.
And I remember: There is no point where any of that ends and I begin.

I remember I am energy, not memory — not self.

My name, my personality, my choices — all came after me. I was before them, and I will be after, and everything else is pictures picked up along the way. Fleeting little dreamlets printed on the tissue of my dying brain.

And I am the lightning that jumps between. I am the energy firing the neurons, and I’m returning — just by remembering, I’m returning home.

It’s like a drop of water falling back into the ocean of which it’s always been a part. All things, a part.

All of us, a part.

You, me, and my little girl, and my mother, and my father, everyone who’s ever been, every plant, every animal, every atom, every star, every galaxy, all of it.

More galaxies in the universe than grains of sand on the beach.

And that’s what we’re talking about when we say “god.” The One.

The Cosmos and its infinite dreams.

We are the cosmos dreaming of itself. It’s simply a dream that I think is my life, every time. But I’ll forget this. I always do. I always forget my dreams.

But now, in a split second, in the moment I remember, the instant I remember, I comprehend everything at once.

There is no time. There is no death.

Life is a dream. It’s a wish made again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again, and on into eternity…

And I am all of it. I am everything. I am all.

I am that I am.

Wishing all of you a great weekend of hopes and dreams.

Love and light, always.
Tommy