You are the only person with whom I shared the discovery regarding my existence, or maybe it would be more accurate to say – regarding my non-existence.
Moreover, you are the only one I feel comfortable enough to a degree that this “subject” can be a natural and hence an authentic part in my casual communication with you.
You asked me to write something about it. Before I try, I want to share with you the paradox that lies in trying to explain why “I” do not exist.
Every explanation is a mental structure, and as such must use words as its building blocks. These building blocks have their own building blocks – thoughts, (you are probably already tired of my constant repetition about thoughts and words and them being only cognitive patterns without any substance in themselves, but I have no other choice, for it’s the base of everything, literally).
First, one must understand why ‘word’ and ‘thought’ can never have a direct connection to the essence of things; They (the words and thoughts) are just the finger pointing to the moon, and therefore they can never be the moon.
Where is the “Mother Tower”? The place where the thoughts that become words are created and woven? I would be a bit pretentious and assume most people would say that it is “them”; “they” think,” they“ feel. This reflects the common premise the common human mind holds towards this thing call ‘thought’. Through the common human mind eyes if there is a thought, there must be an “I”- a separated entity to own that thought.
Thoughts requires an “I” and for an ‘I” to be, thoughts must exist.
And here lies a contradiction, because in fact in a request for an explanation why “I” does not exist, there is an appeal to some “I” who will explain why it does not exist, and so if there is an explanation, there is an “I”. And for this reason explanation cannot exist regarding these matters, not in the form of words at least. But if we are looking for the essence of things and not the way in which that essence is represented, then we should not cling to the need for words, and even on the contrary.
“I” still haven’t answered…
A wise man taught me why I can never know who I am; Just as the eye cannot see itself, and the lips cannot kiss themselves, so I can never know I. The only thing I can “know” for sure is who and what I am not.
If there is a real understanding of the above premise; that every entity is unable to perceive and distinguish itself, then it leads, among other things, to the following conclusion: if the thing itself can never perceive itself, all it is able to perceive is not itself.
Starting the moment that this understanding became “mine” , it was slowly assimilated into the process of my self-observation, (which is already in quite high gear as is..), and it brought a new quality to the viewing experience ; The understanding that everything I detect is not “me”, gave another layer of depth to whatever “I” observed.
Thoughts, feelings, sensations, desires; all those that which for years I used to identify as “me” ceased to be referred to in that way and became perceived as a movie projected on a screen inside me.
The combination of letters given to me so that the world can also make a cognitive template out of me, (I,R,I,S) belongs to “me” just as the four letters T, R, E and E belong to the essence of the organism that bursts from the earth.
All the things through which I experienced my “self” were revealed to me as everything but myself. Empty concepts and definitions that I created based on many things that were taught to me as axioms over the years.
And the question of who I am remains unanswered.
Do you remember that time I told you about the sudden alternation I experienced in my “wanting” muscles? It’s all connected. Again I want to remind you that throughout this process I never held any desire to get rid of any desire, or from any “I”, “, only one thing interested me – a thing that only the poor word ‘truth’ can represent; This whole movie, commonly referred to as ‘life’, I just don’t buy it, everyone chasing something, (whether “materialistic” or “spiritual”, it doesn’t really matter), and something feels fundamentally stinky to me and it just doesn’t let a place in my existence rest.
Returning to desires, for I digressed; when the “I” I thought I was evaporated, the desires from which it was built also evaporated.
So, I didn’t find out who I am, just in the process of finding out who I’m not. And that existence that had alternated during these 41 years is not me, I am some kind of consciousness that is watching it, which is the most I can say without “sinning” with the terrible habit of definitions.
I admit there is a voice inside me that is longing to “know” less, wishing I never went down this rabbit hole. How pleasant it must be to simply want’ this’ and ‘that’, to be excited, to be disappointed again to be excited and not be caught up in the question “What the hell is going on here?!” And although it sounds like I’m complaining, I’m not. “I” simply see the price involved in this question that does not leave me, and still, I would not part with it for any fortune in the world, because it is clear to me that it is a precious gift.
This understanding is not mental. If it was on a mental level, I wouldn’t dare write about it. I have no choice but to use my mind, and hence words to express it in this poor document. I advise not reading the words but listening to the spaces between them, that is where the real “understanding” lies, for the “simple” reason that any understanding that relies on words = relies on intellect = relies on “I” = relies on something that doesn’t exist = illusion.
