If you ask yourself who you are, you will get a quick answer as dictated by your own mind. It will probably be headed by your first and last name followed by a list of characteristics, occupation, likes and dislikes that you think make you who you are and how you are. This would be correct, but at the same time it would be superficial.
Our mind is not capable of answering such a vast and profound question as “Who am I?” in its totality, because our mind only has information accumulated from situations that have happened to us throughout our lives.
This, our life, is a succession of events and circumstances whose origin we do not really know. We are not taught the reason for our existence, the reason why we have been created and brought into the world. Therefore, we only skim the surface of reality. We live out our succession of events and circumstances from beginning to end. But is this really being alive?
Studying, working, having relationships, buying things, travelling… these things are all well and good, but what else? Have we been placed on the surface of a planet in an infinitely mysterious universe for the sole purpose of leading a prosperous and social life?
Our material existence is necessary but beyond it, like sensing a fragrance gently carried by the wind or watching the ceaseless movement of the sea, we feel something that has no name, something we cannot describe in words, something that haunts us and calls to us, speaking to us in the depth of the night as we sleep in our beds, oblivious.
That which lies beyond, that “something else”, is none other than our own true identity. It seeks to be consciously recognised by us. It seeks to find our attention and our will so it can live, express itself and, finally, be.
What is our real identity made of? It is made of fragrances and hidden senses, of beauty and splendour and enchanted landscapes, of the infinite firmament and delicate music, of wood and leaves, of bread and wine, of the charm and magic that everything in existence possesses in its great mystery.
What is our daily life made of? No doubt of obligations, responsibilities, problems, stress, frustrated desires, excesses, distractions, passing pleasures and an endless number of, as we said, events and circumstances that we are involved in until the day we die with no further transcendence.
To begin to answer the question “Who am I?”, a type of knowledge transcending that of our mind or that which we can obtain from any book becomes necessary.
It is the knowledge of our own reality, of our own identity, deep and intimate in our heart.
The knowledge of ourselves is prefixed with “self” because no one can know it for us. It is a quest, an incomparable adventure into which each one of us dives, transcending our own barriers on the path to what is real and authentic within us.
Life’s invitation to us is to embark on this journey towards the ” beyond ” that will never cease to call to us.