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John had been a farmer  for his entire adult life (John’s name has been changed). His hands were like concrete shovels, his arms and back were like rock, and his face looked like weathered granite. He was pleasant to chat to, polite, and always jovial, even though his life at that point wasn’t much fun

Maybe we aren’t exactly what we think we are! If you are not your memories, and you are not your thoughts, then what are you? What are we left with if we take away our memories and thoughts that we believe define us? Physically, without them, all you really are as you sit there reading