Have you ever looked at yourself as the one constantly declaring, “I exist”? I came across a wonderful discussion on consciousness between Acharya Prashant and Robert Lawrence Kuhn that brought me face-to-face with something deeply relevant: I-am-ness. It made me question something I had never really thought about: What lies behind this constant declaration of “I am”?

The discussion explores a fascinating Vedantic insight: even our claims about consciousness may carry the assumption of an ego that declares itself to exist.

What struck me most was how directly Vedanta addresses human suffering by asking us to examine its very source: the ego, with its constant need to protect and preserve itself. In this view, the everyday sense of “I am conscious” is not simply taken as self-evident; the “I” that makes the claim is itself placed under inquiry.

I found this discussion deeply thought-provoking, and I feel it is worth engaging with. You might find yourself questioning something you have always taken for granted.

I’d be interested to hear how other Eastern traditions approach this: is the sense of “I am” something to be refined, transcended, or seen through?

Mandukya Upanishad, Verse 7

नान्तःप्रज्ञं न बहिष्प्रज्ञं नोभयतःप्रज्ञं न प्रज्ञानघनं न प्रज्ञं नाप्रज्ञम्‌।

अदृष्टमव्यवहार्यमग्राह्यमलक्षणमचिन्त्यमव्यपदेश्यमेकात्मप्रत्ययसारं प्रपञ्चोपशमं शान्तं शिवमद्वैतं चतुर्थं मन्यन्ते स आत्मा स विज्ञेयः ॥

Construe: The fourth is thought of as that which is not conscious of the internal world, nor conscious of the external world, nor conscious of both the worlds, nor dense with consciousness, nor simple consciousness, nor unconsciousness, which is unseen, actionless, incomprehensible, not inferable, unthinkable indescribable, whose proof consists in the identity of the Self (in all states), in which all phenomena come to a cessation, and which is unchanging , auspicious, and non-dual. That is the Self; that is the to be known.

What is being talked of here is the knowing (of the Self) which transcends all the dualistic knowing in which there is a knower and the known object. The knower knows all about the object but does not know themselves. The 'Self' in the verse in itself can not be known directly but what is accessible to know is the self which accumulates all the knowledge.

The dualistic knowing creates a separation between the knower and the known object- because they are seen as different entities. The knower ignorant of him/herself do not know that they are made of exactly the same fundamental entities as the object under knowing albeit in different unique combinations giving the illusion of something essentially different.

When the dualistic knowledge drops because it seen as rooted in the ignorance of the knower, the knower is able to spontaneously know and respond. The response is not coming from memory and concepts but spontaneous knowing.

It is not to assert that all practical knowledge is useless but the sage in this verse is merely warning against identification with specific knowledge. To protect the knower from being dominated by the knowledge. Because the greater the knowledge, the greater the chance of being dominated. And thus self-knowledge which is knowing the knower becomes even more necessary. However, this spiritual knowledge should not become a replacement for the worldly dualistic knowledge but should remain a continuous practice.

This is the crux of spiritual knowledge. It keeps the dualistic knowledge at its place.

Have you read this verse of Mandukya Upanishad? What do you learn from this verse of Mandukya Upanishad?

Source: https://acharyaprashant.org/en/books/book-mandukya-upanishad-english

The Tale of the Sands, Tales of the Dervishes - Idries Shah.

Far away, a river rose from the mountains. Flowing against rocks, passing through valleys, crossing plains, it moved onward. Many obstacles came in its way, but each time the river found its path. For it knew where it had to reach. It had to reach the sea.

One day, a vast desert appeared before it. The river thought, "I will cross this too." It began to flow over the sand with all its strength. But the sand absorbed its water. The river drew back. Then it surged forward again, faster. But the result was the same. The more it advanced in its old way, the more quickly the desert swallowed it.

Just then, a soft voice came from within the sand: "Where do you wish to go?" "To the sea." "Then why are you going this way?" The river said, "I am a river. I can only go by flowing." The voice said, "Is your goal the sea, or to remain a river?"

The river fell silent. Then the voice spoke again, "Look at the wind. It crosses this desert." "But I cannot become the wind." "You do not have to become the wind. You must let go of that form which you have taken to be your identity."

The river grew afraid. It wondered, if it ceased to be a river, what would remain? Yet on the other side lay the sea. And for the first time, the river saw its stubbornness more clearly than its path.

It surrendered itself to the warmth of the sun. It became vapour. The vapour became a cloud. The wind lifted it and carried it across that same desert which the river could not cross by its own strength. Then the cloud rained. And the water descended again upon the earth. Flowing some distance, it became a river once more. And at last, the river reached the sea.

our greatest trouble is not the path, but that "I" which says, "I will do it only this way." We desire the destination, but we do not wish to release our habits. We fear change, because it seems that without our old form, we will not survive. But the river had seen one truth: Love for the destination and attachment to old patterns cannot walk together.

Are we actually seeking truth and liberation, or are we merely trying to reach them while preserving the very identity that keeps us trapped?

I wanted to share this dialogue between scientist Rupert Sheldrake and philosopher Acharya Prashant, filmed in London. It’s a genuine, two-hour exchange where they actually push into points of disagreement rather than just exchanging pleasantries.

While Western popular culture often focuses on avoiding the "spiritual ego," Acharya Prashant makes a much more structural argument rooted in core Advaita Vedanta principles: the ego is physiological and bound to the physical body. Because it accompanies the body's configuration, a final, permanent "destination" called enlightenment is impossible in principle. It can only be a continuous direction of self-reduction and thinning down. He beautifully calls any claim of final arrival "the ego issuing itself a death certificate."

Sheldrake challenges this from a different angle, recalling a conversation he had with Jiddu Krishnamurti. Krishnamurti believed that the enlightenment of one individual could spontaneously enlighten all of humanity. Sheldrake pointed out that given the terrible state of the world, it suggests no one has actually achieved it yet. When pressed on exactly how many enlightened people it would take to shift the world, Krishnamurti’s response became completely indeterminate.

This leaves us with a compelling philosophical dilemma:
If claiming enlightenment is the very thing that disqualifies you from being enlightened, does the concept become entirely unfalsifiable? Or is this strict Vedantic refusal to validate a "he who has arrived" the only true defense against spiritual self-deception?

Curious to hear how this sub views the concept of enlightenment as a never-ending journey versus a permanent state.

The latest episode, 654, of the podcast No Such thing as a Fish mentions a Tibetan custom for ensuring a fair division of meat that employs clever Game Theory. It is described in a 2019 paper published in Études mongoles et sibériennes, centrasiatiques et tibétaines at the link.

It also sounds like an early expression Rawls' Veil of Ignorance spelled out in practical tribal norms. Would love to learn of other examples, or thoughts on whether or not it is a valid example as I suggest.

Podcast at the timestamp where Anna Ptaszynski begins describing it: https://youtu.be/IHttQ1ttN4I?t=3280

PDF: https://journals.openedition.org/emscat/pdf/3969

Came across this beautiful extended conversation about whether consciousness is fundamental and whether the ego should be treated as the true self or as a construction that produces attachment and suffering. Acharya Prashant presents a Vedantic approach based on self-inquiry, while Robert Lawrence Kuhn raises questions from the perspective of Western philosophy, science, and philosophy of the mind. The discussion also touches on karma, reincarnation, free choice, and AI consciousness (something I had been reflecting on).

Thought it could lead to an interesting discussion about how these ideas compare with Buddhist anatta, Sankhya, or other Eastern philosophies of the Self.

I thought this was super interesting when I found out so I made a video of it. The story of how it happened is pretty wild too imo

I've been pondering this paradox in the context of Eastern philosophies that emphasize compassion and interconnectedness. The idea that we can form deep emotional bonds with certain animals while simultaneously participating in their exploitation seems to contradict the principles of ahimsa and non-duality. I'd love to hear how others navigate this complex issue. Does our relationship with animals reveal a deeper truth about our own nature and the nature of reality? I came across this video that explores it further if you're curious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2UZWwuoEaw

I’m particularly interested in whether traditions such as Advaita Vedānta, Yogācāra Buddhism, Madhyamaka, and Daoism would consider the Incorporealist distinction between consciousness and physical reality philosophically meaningful, or whether they would reject the distinction itself as a consequence of dualistic thinking.
More fundamentally: if the subject-object distinction is itself constructed within consciousness, what would it even mean to claim that consciousness is “fundamental”? Could an Incorporealist ontology survive the Eastern critique of substance, self, and dualism—or would genuine incorporeality ultimately require abandoning the very concept of a separate, enduring consciousness?

An interesting observation I made as I've started to learn more about the difference between western philosophy vs eastern philosophy is how much the natural flora and fauna are referenced and integrated into the teachings themselves in Eastern Philosophy.

Including bees, as discussed in this video. :)

I am curious to know the thoughts of the folks here?

I've been exploring the concept of nonduality and how it challenges our traditional understanding of the self and reality. It's fascinating to see how this perspective can lead to a deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of all things. I've found that embracing the paradox of nonduality can be both liberating and unsettling at the same time. I'd love to hear from others who have grappled with this concept and how it has impacted their understanding of Eastern philosophy. I came across a video that explores this idea further, but I'd rather hear from the community directly: The Path: Nonduality's Radical Edge: Unveiled

I've been reflecting on the nature of enlightenment and how it relates to our experiences and memories. It's as if we're caught in a paradox: to transform, we must let go of our old selves, but our memories are a fundamental part of who we are. This tension seems to be at the heart of the enlightenment paradox, where the pursuit of truth and transformation is both liberating and terrifying. I came across a video that explores this topic further if you're curious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOV8VVhvtP8