You have always been on the peripheries of everything you have been involved with. It’s somehow just how it always plays out. Because of this your sense of self, of who you are, has developed into one in which you identify strongly with “the observer”.
This identity is comfortable to you, to stand outside, above, on the edge – to look down, or in toward the centre. To observe the players and their game. To assess their motives, their choices, their ideals, their actions. And never to act yourself.
You take pride in being detached and dispassionate, though if required you will play along with the game, in your soul you stand outside, you know that these bodies and other bodies are all just bodies in motion, and in your own subjectivity you are apart from all that, the stationary body around which all motion occurs.
You are of course not stationary. And there cannot be an objective observer, save perhaps – and it’s a big perhaps – God. Like a photon detecting an electron, every act of observation has an effect – and like Marx said in his longwinded German way, every action creates and transmits information.
There can be no such thing as the observer. Maybe you should take solace, you have always guarded a secret desire to do more than just watch, to be a part of something, to sacrifice your sense of specialness, of superiority, for the warm soft comfort of belonging.
But decades of identification are not easily undone, especially when you sit at the edge of the graph and no-one else has any desire to increase your centrality.