The deeper question is not only “How much do I know about myself?” but “Who is the one who knows?” I know my hand because I can see it, move it, touch it, and observe its sensations. I know something about my heart through its beating, emotions, and bodily sensations, although I cannot directly see the heart itself. I know my brain through science and its effects on my behavior, but I cannot directly experience the brain as an object in the same way I experience my hand. I know my appearance through a mirror or photographs—but the image I see is still an external representation of me.
Then comes the fascinating inner world. I can notice a thought: “I should do this.” I can notice a memory appearing: a childhood meal, my mother’s cooking, a place I visited years ago. I can notice happiness, sadness, irritation, fear, or peace. But if I can notice a thought, then perhaps I am not exactly the thought. The thought is something appearing in my awareness.
This leads to the idea of the witness or observer. Sit quietly for a few minutes and watch what happens inside. A thought comes, stays for a while, and disappears. Another thought replaces it. A memory appears and disappears. A sound comes from outside. A bodily sensation changes. Even your mood changes. Yet there seems to be something that is aware of these changing experiences. You may not be able to see or touch this witness like your hand or face. You can only notice the fact that awareness is present.
You might therefore ask yourself:
“I can observe my body. I can observe my thoughts. I can observe my memories. I can observe my emotions. But who—or what—is observing them?”
You don’t necessarily need to answer the question intellectually. The exploration itself can become a form of self-awareness. When you quietly recognize, “A thought is happening, and I am aware that it is happening,” you are beginning to distinguish between the contents of consciousness and the awareness in which those contents appear. Whether one interprets that witness psychologically, philosophically, or spiritually is a deeper question.
Perhaps knowing yourself is not about collecting more information about “me.” It may also be about becoming quietly aware of the difference between what I experience, what I think I am, and the awareness that notices the experience.
