We often imagine the “self” as something deep inside — a core, a center, a solid identity we must discover or protect. But in meditation, something remarkable becomes visible: The self doesn’t live at the center at all. It lives at the edges  — wherever craving defends or pursues something. Whatever craving wants, we call me . Whatever craving rejects, we call not me . The self is not a stable essence. It is a border drawn by longing, fear, and preference. And every time we