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Who Am I?: Nobody Knows!

The first thing, the beginning, is always the question, "Who am I?" And one has to go on asking. who am iWhen first you ask, "Who am I?" the muladhar will answer, "You are a body! What nonsense! There is no need to ask, you know it already." Then the second will say, "You are sexuality." Then the third will say, "You are a power-trip, an ego" - and so on and so forth.

Remember, you have to stop only when there is no answer coming, not before it. If some answer is coming that, "You are this, you are this," then know well that some center is providing you with an answer. When all the six centers have been crossed and all their answers canceled, you go on asking, "Who am I?" and no answer comes from anywhere, it is utter silence. Your question resounds in yourself: "Who am I?" and there is silence, no answer arises from anywhere, from any corner. You are absolutely present, absolutely silent, and there is not even a vibration. "Who am I?" - and only silence. Then a miracle happens: you cannot even formulate the question. Answers have become absurd; then finally the question also becomes absurd. First answers disappear, then the question also disappears - because they can live only together. They are like two sides of a coin - if one side has gone, the other cannot be retained. First answers disappear, then the question disappears. And with the disappearance of question and answer, you come to realize: that is transcendental. You know, yet you cannot say; you know, yet you cannot be articulate about it. You know from your very being who you are, but it cannot be verbalized. It is life-knowledge; it is not scriptural, it is not borrowed, it is not from others. It has arisen in you.

And with this arising, you are a Buddha. And then you start laughing because you come to know that you have been a Buddha from the very beginning; you had just never looked so deep. You were running around and around outside your being, you had never come home.

The philosopher, Arthur Schopenhauer, was walking down a lonely street. Buried in thought, he accidentally bumped into another pedestrian.
Angered by the jolt and the apparent unconcern of the philosopher, the pedestrian shouted, "Well! Who do you think you are?"
Still lost in thought the philosopher said, "Who am I? How I wish I knew."

Nobody knows.
Knowing this - that I don′t know who I am - the journey starts.

(Osho - The heart Sutra #1)

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