66.
Who knows the 'I'?—that very question is liberation. You have settled now into the conviction, 'I am.' You feel it—you exist. But suddenly a question arises in the mind: "This sense of 'I am'—who is knowing it?"
The Upanishads say, "Ya pasyati pasyatih na pasyati"—he who sees cannot be seen by anyone; he is the seer of the seer himself. This sense of 'I' came once, suddenly—in childhood, without thought, without words. Then, with time, it became—"I am this," "I am that." But the question remains—"Was there nothing before this sense of 'I'? Who witnesses the arising and vanishing of this awareness?"
This transformation—from 'I am not' to 'I am'—on whose eyes did it fall? Who is its witness? Have you ever asked—before 'I' came, who was there? And now that 'I' exists—who is knowing it? The Upanishads say, "The seer of the seer, the knower of the knower"—he who knows him who knows—that is the soul, and that soul is neither awareness nor thought nor experience. So the guru says—abide in 'I,' and ask—"Who knows this 'I'?"
Then you will gently recede, beyond 'I' itself, before thought itself, into that solitary existence—where there is no awareness, yet it knows all awareness. This inquiry is simple, plain, profound—only remain in 'I,' and see—who is seeing it? It is no person, no mind, no concept—it is only you yourself, sight without a seer, knowledge without a knower, beyond experience, silent, the eternal Brahman supreme.
67.
'I' is false—he who knows it, he is true, he is Brahman supreme. "I am"—this awareness has come like a cloud crossing the sky, and in a moment it passes away. Sometimes you say "I," sometimes it seems "I am not," sometimes you know, sometimes you know not—all these are changing states. The Upanishads say, "Na ya jananati, na cha janitum"—that consciousness which itself knows nothing, yet within which all things are known—that consciousness is the supreme soul.
Now the question arises—who knows this illusion called 'I'? Who sees its coming, its staying, its going away? Surely there is one—on whom all this rises and falls, yet who himself never rises or falls. He is the still background, he is unchanging consciousness itself. He has been called the witness, the light of awareness, the immutable, the imperishable existence. Or—Brahman supreme, supreme consciousness, silent being.
This consciousness never says "I am," for it has no experience of its own. It merely illuminates—by whose light all things appear, yet it touches nothing. The Upanishads say, "Tatra kim pasyati? Na pasyati"—there, who sees whom? Nothing is seen—for it is itself the background of seeing, it remains invisible, beyond experience, undivided.
This 'I'—it is habit, a fleeting sensation of coming and going, and he who knows that it is not 'I', he alone is you, that still consciousness, which no experience can touch, for it is itself the background of all experience. In the realization of this consciousness lies liberation—when you know that you are not 'I,' you are that—by whose light 'I' is revealed, then you abide in your true nature—Brahman supreme, formless, without qualification, the eternal witness-self.
68.
'I'—the first deception; knowing it is freedom. This sense of "I am" that you know—that itself is the first illusion, a beautifully disguised deception. This 'I' came to you and said—"you are the body," "you were born," "you are this person," and you believed it—in something that is not true at all.
The Upanishads say, "Mayam tu prakasyayati atmanam"—the soul itself casts the veil of illusion over itself, and that veil is the notion of 'I.' Now the guru says—inquire into how this 'I' came, trace it. Where did it come from? How did it transform one pure existence into a false identity?
The answer to this question must be known not through the mind, but through meditation. You need only gaze steadily at 'I'—again and again, continuously, with stillness.
This is the practice—you do nothing, only gaze steadily at that deception which convinced you that “I am this body.” In time, with prolonged and piercing attention, it dissolves of itself, for falsehood can only survive in the shadow of ignorance—it cannot withstand knowledge and conscious awareness.
The Upanishads say, “When understanding becomes established, then falsehood naturally dissolves.” The ‘I’ is that first dishonesty, which presented itself as real, yet came uninvited, without summons, and bound you fast in the world of illusion. Now only look—firmly, with courage, with steady consciousness—toward this ‘I’. And when it dissolves of itself, what remains is you—you alone, that supreme, eternally pure, eternally true Brahman.
69.
Transcend the ‘I’—enter into Brahman free of all concepts.
The final goal of practice is one alone: to release even the sense of ‘I’. You have understood that this ‘I’ has come, will stay, will go—it is the primary concept upon which stands all delusion, all personality, all illusion. What then must you do? Meditate upon this ‘I’—deeply, keenly, again and again. You cannot ignore it—there is no way to bypass this step. And when you become wholly established in the ‘I’, then suddenly—that very concept too dissolves, as shadow vanishes in light.
The Upanishad says: I am neither Brahman nor the Self—then what? I am that soundless, conceptless, void yet conscious form. This state—the supreme Brahman—contains no concept, no language to say ‘I’, no knowing, no experience, not even self-knowledge. You do not know there that you exist, yet you exist, for in that state experience itself dissolves, the knower dissolves, only existence remains. The wonder is this: this state has always been, is now, and will forever be. You never left it; you only forgot your true nature, lost in the sense of ‘I’.
Practice ends in the dissolution of ‘I’, and begins in that experience-transcendent, soundless nature—where there is no question, no knowledge, nothing to say about consciousness—yet you are whole, complete, eternally true. That is what you are—Brahman free of all concepts, which cannot be known, cannot be lost—for it was never separate from you.
70.
The you that existed before the sense of ‘I’—you are that unborn Brahman. The sense of ‘I’ came one day, sudden—in childhood, in innocent consciousness, in wordless presence. But your true condition existed before that moment too—where there is neither birth nor death, neither name nor experience—only soundless existence. The Upanishad says, “Unborn, eternal, constant, and primordial”—the Self has no birth, is timeless, eternal; it has no history, for it never began.
Now if you wish to know that truth—understand this: the sense of ‘I’ itself is an illusion. This sense has come only for the sake of the phenomenal play—that there might be seeing, hearing, thinking. But when this delusion dissolves—what remains is not ‘I’. Then the question arises: in a state where there is no ‘I’, no thought, no experience, is anything known? No. For that supreme Brahman does not even need knowledge. It is complete in itself alone; there is no knowing, and no need to know.
The Upanishad says, “Through ignorance alone is knowledge attained”—knowledge becomes true only when it transcends even the sense of knowing and not-knowing. So the Guru says: you must establish one unwavering conviction—”I was never born,” “I am unborn,” “I am that in which the ‘I’ itself arises and dissolves.” This unborn consciousness alone is your true nature, which never began, never took form, and therefore cannot be known or lost.
Now arrive at this conclusion alone: “I am unborn, I am eternally established, I am Brahman.” And then all thought, all sense of ‘I’, all delusion dissolves of itself.