The thought “I Am” is the first shimmering of self-awareness.
It feels pure, foundational, luminous.
And yet—even this is not the end.
“I Am” is the first veil, not because it is false,
but because it still carries the fragrance of identification.
It still assumes a subtle someone
who is.
The truth is even more radical:
You are not the “I Am.”
You are the Awareness that knows even that.
Before the claim “I exist”,
something sees.
Before being is named,
there is knowing.
This knowing is not a thought.
It is not a feeling.
It has no form,
and yet everything arises within it.
Can you see the “I Am” arising in this moment?
Now ask—what is aware of it?
Don’t answer quickly.
Let the question open a space.
What is aware of the sense of presence?
Of being?
Of identity itself?
You will not find a location.
You will not find a shape.
You will not find a knower.
Because you are what is looking.
This is why Ramana says:
“The ‘I’-thought is the root of all other thoughts.”
The invitation is not to destroy “I Am,”
but to look through it—gently,
like seeing through clear water to the ocean floor.
Behind the sense I Am
is That which never began.
It does not say “I.”
It does not need to.
It simply is.
Unborn. Undivided. Unlocatable.
It cannot be described,
but it is always here.
You do not need to become this.
You already are.
Just stop identifying with anything that arises—
even the sacred “I Am”—
and rest as That which knows it all,
but is untouched by all.

Nisargadatta Maharaj

Yeah, yeah, plagiarism. I read Mark Manson’s The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck several years ago. It was a great read. It highlighted some very stoic principles. Things like most things are out of your control, you’re going to die anyway, so is everyone else you know, hate or love. Anyway, that’s what I remember.

But this morning as I was driving the highway (the lazy or busy man’s going for a walk, I suppose), I thought what about literally giving a fuck about everything? My way of putting into words an attitude of noticing all existence and being amazed. One can see the beauty and love in all of it. It’s all an amazing cosmic dance! Every last bit of it. To care about every photon that hits my eye, to care about any grain of sand on earth, to notice that the fact that there is an entity that I usually call “me” that cares at all is a wonder. Of course, I give a fuck. Maybe it’s more like a “what the fuck?” in the most ethereal and wondrous way?

So I managed to get myself fished in to the fray of COVID 19 by lurking on the news, sharing my opinion on social media, and just a little arguing with those I don’t agree with on this whole COVID virus matter. To be honest, the whole thing has me worked up more than a little. I’m irritated that the virus exists in the first place, I’m frustrated with the measures that have been taken, and I am amazed at how many people think they are experts and they have no idea what they are talking about.

Then, it hit me yet again. The only thing I have control over in that whole first paragraph are the words “irritated,” “frustrated,” and “amazed.” Yes, these are the things I can control. All of the rest are externals: viruses, governments, mass fear, busy-bodies, self-proclaimed experts. I have no control over these.

In fact, I’m currently reflecting whether I have a duty to share my opinion at all. The world is as the world is, and I’m not so sure my “answers” are all as good as I think. Heaven forbid, I become one of those self-proclaimed experts.

Things I can control, things I can’t, and the wisdom to know the difference. Serenity Now.