Who am I?
Am I the body?
Am I the bones? The skin? The blood? The nervous system? The muscles? The organs?
No, of course not.
If I lose blood or a finger, I remain. ‘I’ seem to have a body. I am not the body.
What about the sensations that appear?
Am I the sounds, touches, tastes, colours and odours that arise?
No, I am not. Sensations come and go. When a sound arises and passes by, I remain.
What about movements I experience?
Am I the speaking, acting, grasping, breathing, excreting or procreating that is happening?
No, of course not. I remain when speaking or other sorts of movement aren’t present.
What about thoughts?
Am I the thinking that comes up? The recurring thoughts that feel so intimately mine?
No, I am not. I remain when there is no thinking.
Even the ignorance isn’t me. The dumbfounded state of mind in which nothing comes up isn’t me. Because, when thinking starts again, I remain.
Neti, Neti
If I am not the body, the sensations, the movement or the thoughts, then who am I?
I am what remains.
I might call this ‘pure awareness’, ‘boundless nothingness’, or ‘unconditioned being’.
Of course, these are just labels. I am not the words. But the words are useful concessions that can help point out that which I truly am.
Perhaps, an even more accurate way to describe who I am is simply through the acknowledgement that I am.
So who am I? I am. So are you.
Got it?
Go through it slowly. Self-inquiry is a potent practice, and when done with the utmost sincerity, nothing else is required to attain the understanding that Jesus, Buddha, Maharshi and many other saints and sages have dwelled in, throughout the ages.
A FRUSTRATINGLY CEREBRAL PRACTICE
When I first came across self-inquiry, I found it confusing, abstract and overly cerebral. I didn’t really get the significance of the exercise. And as a result, it didn’t resonate as much as other meditative practices did, that focused more on the breath, body and feelings.
“Okay… I am… that’s all… so what?”
My mind would just search itself for sensible narratives and labels to fill the empty space. And yet, for a while I couldn't quite see I was making this move. I couldn’t see that I was mistaking my true self for the nimble thoughts that popped up so quickly in response to the simple prompt.
“Who Am I? I am Awareness, ofcourse.”
“Who Am I? Love.”
“Who Am I? Nothing.”
Although ‘correct’, at the level of thought, it is the same as responding with completely arbitrary words.
It is like saying:
“Who Am I? I am Potato.”
“Who Am I? Juice Bottle.”
“Who Am I? Internet Explorer.”
What I am essentially saying is:
“Who am I? I am this thought.”
“Who am I? This thought.”
“Who am I? This thought.”
So you see the blindspot? The trickery of the mind at play?
I had turned the inquiry into a mental exercise with right and wrong answers.
“Who am I?”
“Awareness?”
“Yes! Very good. Well done, you wise, all-seeing, Buddha-God. You are indeed awareness.”
“Thank you, thank you… Now what? Seriously… Now what?”
WHATEVER KNOWS THE THING IS NOT THE THING
The trick to moving beyond the thought-response trap is to start by observing the response directly and very clearly.
Recognise that whatever knows the thoughtful response is not itself the thoughtful response. Then inquire into what that is that knows this.
The exercise may help you to move beyond the conceptual realm.
Then move on to feelings.
Notice that whatever is aware of feelings is not itself a feeling. Then inquire into what that is.
Follow this by exploring ‘outwardly’. Whatever it is that perceives the world, the sights, sounds, tastes, textures and smells, is not itself the arising sensations.
Eventually, every objective possibility will be exhausted. At this point, a peaceful sort of nothingness will be all that remains. All that needs to be done is to rest there as that. To sink into it.
As Ramana Maharshi describes: “The thought ‘who am I?’ will destroy all other thoughts, and like the stick used for stirring the funeral pyre, it will itself be burnt up in the end. Then, there will be Self-realization.”
And with repeated practice, self-inquiry gives way to Self-remembering again and again, and eventually, Self-abiding settles in.
Who am I?
Not this, not that,
Not anything, in fact,
Chit without chat,
Just sitting as Sat,
Take care,
David
Art by me (with a little help from my AI friends over at Midjourney)
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