The Four Stages of Identity Transformation

Welcome to Letters of Wonder — a space to explore the truths behind clarity, creation, and what it means to live a truly wonderful life.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been searching.

And I found myself coming back to these questions:

1. How can I suffer less in this life?

2. How can I live in peace, no matter what?

3. How can I reach the end with no regrets?

Like many other seekers, I turned to books and podcasts.

I read through the words of Buddha, Jiddu Krishnamurti, Rupert Spira, Marcus Aurelius, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Seneca, Allan Watts, and even GPT lol.

Each said slightly different things, but beneath the surface, I heard the same truth:

But what does that really mean?

How could I possibly find this highest self of mine? What does that even mean?

And more importantly… how do we become that self—rather than just talk about it?

That’s when I began experimenting. Leaning into small principles I heard.

• Face what’s uncomfortable

• Tell the truth, especially when it’s hard

• Observe, don’t react

• Let go of whatever you’re clinging to

But even those ideas felt vague when life got messy.

So I decided to come up with a map.

It's been helpful for me as a quiet compass for transformation.

And as I go along this journey of life, I wanted to share it along.

It’s called The Four Stages of Identity Transformation.

And it helped me peel back the layers of who I thought I was (still in the process).

So I could live more from the presence I’ve always been.

Let's take a look.

1) The Mask

This is the stage where we think we know who we are.

It's where our identity is attached to external things.

For example:

• Our profession

• Our youth

• Our looks

• Our friendships/spouse

On the outside, it may feel great.

We feel on top of the world with these things.

But sadly, they are all masks.

Because deep down, we feel incomplete without them.

And what makes you feel incomplete without it, couldn't be your highest self.

Because your highest self is always complete.

So how do you find this?

You must fracture the mask.

2) The Fracture

This is the stage where you tear down your reality.

You begin to deconstruct the mask.

You choose to walk into the resistance in order to uncover the truth.

This may be involuntarily or voluntarily.

Maybe your girlfriend breaks up with you.

Maybe you lose your profession you treasured.

Maybe you begin to age and lose your youthful looks.

Or maybe you choose to want to go on the other side of all of this.

In any case, this is where you feel disillusionment.

Because you now don't know what to attach your identity to anymore.

Fear begins to surface as you go through this stage.

3) The Descent

Here is where you are approaching or reaching the bottom.

You feel your true self.

And you realize that you have been complete this whole time.

There is nothing outside of you to complete you.

And this is where you begin to uncover the truths of who you are.

You begin to walk through fear to uncover what's on the other side.

Now, you begin to live again, not in fear, but in presence.

And you understand that there is nothing needed to complete you anymore.

You have always been whole.

4) The Embodiment

This is where the mask may return.

Because we live in a society where you need external things to function.

You might have:

• Your looks

• Your profession

• Your partner

But the mask doesn’t define you anymore.

You still love and appreciate the things you have (and let go of the things that truly didn’t serve you).

And you realize you are complete without any of it too.

Your confidence returns, but this time, anchored into your soul.

And that's when you lead and act from presence.

This is where things start to align so beautifully.

The King Lear Analogy

I’ve recently been reading a book called Being Myself by Rupert Spira.

In the book, Rupert Spira shares a profound metaphor to illustrate the nature of identity.

He starts with the story of John Smith.

John Smith is an actor who is playing the role of King Lear in a theater production.

And obviously, John Smith knows he’s not actually King Lear. He’s just playing the part of the king.

Before the curtains rise, he's grounded in who he truly is (John Smith).

But as the play unfolds, John Smith becomes immersed in the role.

He starts to think like King Lear.

He begins to feel like King Lear.

And he even suffers like King Lear.

And here’s where things start to get crazy.

After the show ends, John Smith sits backstage and is visibly upset.

(I’m paraphrasing here)

A friend asks him, “What’s wrong?”

John replies, “My kingdom is falling apart. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

The friend is confused.

“But you’re not King Lear. You’re John Smith. The play is over.”

And after a long drawn conversation, John Smith finally remembers that he’s not actually King Lear.

The tension leaves his body and his suffering fades.

In the same way, we are all playing roles in our lives.

The role of a brother. A friend. An entrepreneur. An attractive person.

Or whatever identity we've chosen—or been given.

And this doesn't mean we need to stop playing these roles.

It means we must remember:

We were whole even before we played any of them.

We are not the role.

We are the one playing it.

When we recognize our external life as the role of King Lear, we begin to see that our true peace was never out there.

It has always lived quietly within.