Which You is God Within?

Those who speak of God as not being outside of you often mean well—but which “you” are they pointing to? The body? The persona? The memory of identity that walks through time? Or something deeper?

There’s a difference between saying God is not outside of you and realizing why that’s so. If God is all, then every appearance—internal, external, formless, formed—is God. This includes the illusion of separation. To claim that God is not outside of you while affirming that something is external still subtly upholds the illusion of division. That illusion, too, is God—played through veils of thought, language, and perspective.

But when the idea of “you” dissolves into beingness itself, the paradox clears. You are not merely a part of existence. You are existence. And existence is God, not as a figure, but as totality. Even the idea of “outside” collapses, because outside implies another space, and there is no second to the One.

This doesn’t mean there’s nothing. It means everything is not-two.

Even nonexistence exists. Not as an object, but as a category known within existence. Its very naming proves its place within the whole. Therefore, there’s nowhere God is not—and no self outside of God to speak of God as elsewhere.

So, when someone says “God is not outside of you,” pause. Feel what is really being said. It’s not a statement about boundaries—it’s a pointer toward boundarylessness. Not about spiritual pride or metaphysical positioning. It is the erasure of location itself.

And in that clarity, what’s left is not you as you know yourself. What remains is what’s always been—God, appearing as you.

Morgan O. Smith

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Your Very Own Face

The Face of God Is Your Very Own Face Turned Inside Out

What if the divine is not something to be discovered but something to be remembered? Imagine that every search for the sacred is a quiet whisper urging you to turn your gaze inward—not as a way to find answers, but to dissolve the very questions themselves. The face of God is not hidden; it is simply turned inside out.

Consider for a moment the paradox of identity. We spend our lives constructing an idea of “self,” a fragile architecture built from memories, labels, and stories. This structure feels solid, yet beneath it lies a boundless vastness—a formless presence that defies description. That formlessness is the essence of God. It is not separate from you but exists as the very foundation of your being. When you turn yourself inside out, you don’t find something “other.” You find the unchanging witness, the infinite silence in which all of life unfolds.

The journey to realize this truth often feels like an unlearning. The more you let go of defining yourself, the closer you come to recognizing the divine nature within. It is not an external force judging or saving; it is the open awareness of experiencing life through your eyes, breathing life through your lungs, and yet remaining untouched by your stories of limitation.

This realization is not confined to moments of meditation or spiritual awakening. It reveals itself in the simplicity of everyday experiences—a child’s laughter, the stillness of a forest, or the quiet ache of longing. These glimpses call you to see that everything, including your own struggles and joys, is an expression of that infinite presence. The face of God is both the mystery and the mirror, reflecting your true nature beyond the constraints of identity.

The question is not how to find God, but whether you are willing to recognize that you are God remembering itself. This recognition is not a thought or a concept; it is a felt experience, a profound knowing that arises when the mind quiets and the heart opens.

As you turn your awareness inward, notice how the boundaries between self and other begin to blur. The separate “I” dissolves, and what remains is not just emptiness but fullness—an eternal oneness where the face of God and your own face are indistinguishable.

The invitation is clear: stop seeking and start seeing. The divine has never been elsewhere. It has always been here, waiting patiently as the silent witness of all that you are.

Morgan O. Smith

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