When I look in the mirror, I see a shell. It’s getting worn and old, scarred, marred, faulty, and broken. It’s been around for a few years, but only a blink of eternity’s eye.
There is something in that shell that is me. I am not the shell, only its inhabitant. But still, I wonder what I am. If I am not the shell, what am I? Am I the thoughts? But isn’t that also a part of the shell? If I lose my capacity to think clearly, am I not still me? What about my wants? My hopes, dreams, and needs? My desires that drive me to do and be what I am? Pushed and persuaded by the drives within the shell, if I lose those, am I still me? And if so, what is left? What will drive or inspire a “me” that wants or needs nothing? If that is the “me” of tomorrow, the “me” of eternity, it seems it would be so devoid of much of the “me” of today.
So my big question is this: When my soul slips into eternity and this shell is left an empty, decaying husk, if all my desires and needs are gone and my thinking is completely new, will I still be me?