The other way of putting this idea is "I don't really exist". It's a VERY esoteric and spiritual idea, but I love it because it totally humbles me and puts my ego in it's place. Which is to say, no place at all. Because my ego, which is the "me" I am referring to, doesn't exist. Not really really. Yes, there is a person in this body that I call my body, and she has been given a name, Louise, by her parents, so in that sense I do exist, but the story-of-me, as Eckhart Tolle often talks about, which is the ego, that person doesn't exist. Not in ultimate reality. What really exists is only my being-ness. The part of me that was there before I was born and the part of me that will (I assume, but I can't know for sure) continue after I die. This story in between is all a bit of nonsense made up by me.
I know this is a weird and huge and spacey concept. Sometimes even I can't grasp it. That's because the mind cannot grasp what is not of the mind. But when I look at my son, I can sort of get this idea.
I can see his little ego developing by the day. He is getting and creating an identity for himself (at the tender age of four turning five, nogal!) but he didn't have this little identity on his first day on planet earth, and yet, he was still him. Does that make sense? So what was "him"? And then if I go back to the minute before he was born, he still existed, but there was no name (except in my and my hubby's minds) there was no ID number, there was no person physically before my eyes. His body was my body. And then in a flash of the caesarean knife, there was a separate person. So I know for sure, we are NOT our bodies, and yet we exist. What we are, I cannot say. I can only feel. And my gut feeling is that we are all love. Each and every one of us. Despite appearances to the contrary.