Living in the Matrix: The 2D Perspective Before Awakening

For as long as I can remember, I lived life on autopilot. I woke up, went to work, came home, and repeated the same cycle over and over. Everything felt surface-level, like a flat existence without depth or real meaning. I didn’t question much because, quite frankly, I didn’t know there was anything more to question.

The 2D Reality

In this pre-awakening stage, I was focused on the material world—money, possessions, social status. My goals were straightforward: get a better job, buy more stuff, climb the social ladder. It was a world of black-and-white thinking, where success was measured by external achievements, and failure felt like the end of the world.

I didn’t realize I was missing something because, to me, this was just how life worked. Everyone around me seemed to be living the same way, chasing the same things, never stopping to wonder if there was more. I thought happiness came from having more, doing more, and being more. But no matter how much I achieved or accumulated, there was always this lingering sense of dissatisfaction. Something felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

The Search for Validation

A big part of this 2D perspective was my need for validation—from friends, family, colleagues, and even strangers. I was constantly trying to fit into a mold, to be liked, accepted, and approved of. My worth felt tied to how others perceived me, and I spent most of my time worrying about what people thought.

This need for external validation made me reactive. If someone criticized me, it would ruin my day. If I didn’t meet a certain standard, I’d spiral into self-doubt. Everything felt fragile, like my whole sense of self could crumble with one misstep.

The Numbing Routine

In this phase, I was also heavily reliant on distractions. Whether it was binge-watching TV shows, scrolling through social media, or going out for drinks, it was all about keeping myself busy, numb, and distracted. I didn’t realize it at the time, but all these distractions were a way of avoiding deeper feelings—feelings I didn’t know I had.

I felt disconnected, but I couldn’t explain why. I’d go through the motions of life without truly engaging with it. It was like living on the surface of a vast ocean, completely unaware of the depths below.

A Nagging Feeling

What I didn’t know was that this was all part of the pre-awakening phase. There was a small voice inside me, a nagging feeling that something was missing. But every time it popped up, I pushed it back down. I told myself that this was just how life was, that I should be grateful for what I had, and that there wasn’t anything else to seek.

It was comfortable in a way, this 2D world. There was security in knowing the rules and playing the game. But that nagging feeling—the quiet sense that I was meant for something more—never fully went away.

The Point Before the Shift

The pre-awakening stage feels like wandering through life with a fog over your eyes. You follow the paths laid out for you, unaware that other routes even exist. It’s as if you’re living in a flat, colorless world where the scenery never changes, and everything you do is just a variation of what you’ve always known. You don’t realize there’s a more vibrant, multidimensional world waiting for you just beyond the fog.

In that state, you feel safe in the routines and the comfort of the familiar, but a small part of you senses that something is missing. You keep moving forward, unaware that with just a shift in perspective, everything could look entirely different.

The pre-awakening phase isn’t about failure; it’s about being unaware. It’s like living in a dimly lit room and not knowing there’s a window you can open. It’s the quiet lull before the storm of self-realization hits, and though it may feel empty or frustrating at times, it’s a crucial part of the journey.

When you're in this phase, it’s easy to feel stuck, disconnected, and constantly chasing something that’s just out of reach. But this is often where awakening begins—a spark of curiosity, a nagging feeling that there’s more, and the first step toward transformation.