Enlightenment isn’t becoming something. It’s unbecoming what you never were.
There’s a quiet longing in many of us—to become better, wiser, freer. We set off chasing ideals, trying to grow, improve, transform. We imagine enlightenment as a peak we must climb, a polished version of ourselves we must create. Yet the deeper truth moves in the opposite direction:
Enlightenment isn’t becoming something. It’s unbecoming what you never were.
It’s not an achievement. It’s a return.
The mind loves the idea of progress—it wants to add, to collect, to build layers of identity that feel impressive, secure, important. It tells us, *If I master this, if I fix that, if I gain enough knowledge, I’ll finally be complete.* But the soul knows: the completeness was never missing. It was only covered.
When we see clearly, we realize that so much of what we think we are—our roles, titles, fears, stories—was never truly ours to begin with. They were borrowed, inherited, imagined. They wrapped around us slowly, like vines, until we forgot the simple truth of who we are underneath.
Unbecoming is the process of gently letting these vines fall away.
It’s like polishing a dusty mirror. You don’t need to *create* the reflection. You only need to remove what is obscuring it. The light, the clarity—it was there all along.
Imagine carrying a heavy backpack filled with things you were told you needed: approval, ambition, perfection, reputation. You walk for years with the weight, struggling uphill, thinking *this is what it means to be someone.* But enlightenment isn’t reaching the summit with your burden intact. It’s realizing you never needed the backpack at all. It’s dropping it. Feeling the strange lightness of being that was always yours.
This might sound simple, but it’s often the hardest thing. Because we are so identified with what we have built. It feels vulnerable to let go. It feels uncertain. If I am not what I have collected—then who am I?
And that’s where the doorway opens.
You are not your achievements. Not your mistakes. Not the image you crafted. Not the fears you carry. You are what remains when everything false falls away. A presence, a being, a life that doesn’t need to prove itself.
In practical terms, unbecoming can look like moments when you stop trying to impress, to explain, to defend. It’s choosing honesty over performance. Silence over noise. It’s noticing when you’re acting out of fear or habit—and gently stepping back into authenticity.
Like a snake shedding its old skin, there’s a naturalness to this process. It’s not forced. It’s a release. A surrender to something simpler and truer.
And the paradox is: the more you unbecome, the more you feel at home. Not because you added something extraordinary to yourself, but because you made space for what was already extraordinary within you.
The journey isn’t upward toward some distant star. It’s inward, back to where you’ve always been.
And when you reach that place, you realize: you were never missing. You were simply buried under what you didn’t need.
You don’t have to become anything.
You just have to remember what you are.
Chief Editor
Tal Gur is an author, founder, and impact-driven entrepreneur at heart. After trading his daily grind for a life of his own daring design, he spent a decade pursuing 100 major life goals around the globe. His journey and most recent book, The Art of Fully Living, has led him to found Elevate Society.
