Each day I engage with markets, one of two “I”s may appear.
The first is an “I” whose attention is broad.
One who surveys the landscape at rest, nothing to do.
This “I” exists only there, only then—only in relation to the unfolding market before it.
When a trade appears, a transformation begins.
This “I” shifts from a broad and restful attention, to one that is narrow and vigilant.
This “I” moves on instinct and deep knowing, rooted in experience and intuition.
This “I” frames the trade, sizes the position, accepts the risk.
And this “I” is as real as the market in front of it …
… because it is fused with that market’s unfolding.
… because it exists only then.
The second “I” is different.
This “I” pulls from the past:
“I need a big win to turn my performance positive for the year.”
This “I” projects into the future:
“Once I double my account, I will be more selective.”
This “I” compares:
“I can’t believe he missed that move. He was asleep at the wheel.”
Rather than fuse with the market in front of it, this second “I” constructs an identity.
It exists only in relation to the past, the future, or others.
This “I” is a concept.
This “I” is not real in the way that the first “I” is.
Because instead of joining with the emergent opportunity …
… the second “I” creates separation.
Each day that I engage with markets, one of two “I”s may appear.
One trades from stillness. The other from craving.
One is real. The other, an illusion.
“I need … “ “I am …” “I will …” “I must …”
To trade as this “I” is not to trade a market, but to trade a concept of oneself.