Who am I? Not the body, because it is decaying; not the mind

In the transcendent and luminous words of Ramana Maharshi, the sage of Arunachala and silent master of self-realization, there breathes a truth so profound that it dissolves the illusions of time and mortality: “Who am I? Not the body, because it is decaying; not the mind, because the brain will decay with the body; not the personality, nor the emotions, for these also will vanish with death.” This declaration is not a denial of life but a revelation of the eternal essence that lies beyond it. Ramana speaks from the highest seat of awareness — the Self, that which does not age, suffer, or die. His words are both a challenge and a liberation, calling humanity to awaken from the dream of identity and return to the stillness of the eternal being within.

The origin of this teaching lies in Ramana Maharshi’s own experience of awakening at the age of sixteen, when he faced the terror of death and sought to discover what it truly meant. In that moment of profound introspection, he lay down and imagined his body dying, his breath ceasing, his limbs stiffening — yet deep within, he discovered something that could not perish. It was pure consciousness, untouched by decay or fear. From that moment, he lived as one awakened, teaching not through argument or persuasion, but through the silent radiance of truth realized. His question, “Who am I?”, became not a riddle of intellect but the key to liberation.

To say, “Not the body, because it is decaying,” is to pierce the first illusion of existence — the belief that we are what we see. The body is sacred, yes, but it is not eternal. It is a vessel, a garment, a temple through which the soul experiences the material world. It grows, it fades, it changes — but it is not the I that witnesses these changes. The body belongs to time; the Self belongs to eternity. The wise, therefore, do not cling to the body as their identity, for what belongs to time will pass with time. Instead, they cherish it as an instrument through which divine awareness expresses itself in form.

Then he says, “Not the mind, because the brain will decay with the body.” Here lies the second veil. The mind, with its thoughts, memories, and dreams, seems eternal while we live, but it too is bound to the physical. When the brain ceases, the mind dissolves; its patterns vanish like clouds after a storm. But the consciousness that witnesses the mind — that silent presence that observes thoughts come and go — that remains unbroken. It is not born with the body, nor does it die with it. The mind is a tool; consciousness is the wielder of that tool. Thus, Ramana calls us to detach from the passing tide of thought and rest in the stillness of the Self beyond mind.

Personality and emotion, too, he tells us, cannot define who we truly are. They are masks worn by the eternal Self as it plays its part in the drama of existence. Joy and sorrow, pride and fear — these are waves upon the vast ocean of being. They rise, shimmer, and vanish. The one who knows they are not the waves, but the ocean itself, finds peace unshaken by the tempests of life. To identify with emotion is to suffer endlessly; to rest in the awareness that watches emotion arise and fade is to be free. Thus, Ramana’s teaching leads us not away from life, but to the core of freedom within life — the realization that nothing temporary can define the eternal.

The truth of this can be seen in the life of Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha. Surrounded by luxury and sheltered from suffering, he one day beheld sickness, old age, and death — and in that revelation, he awakened to the impermanence of all things. He renounced the false identity of body and mind to seek what never changes. And in enlightenment, he discovered the same truth as Ramana: that behind every transient form lies the deathless essence of pure awareness. The body may fall, the mind may scatter, but the Self — luminous, infinite, and silent — abides forever.

Therefore, my children of the eternal flame, heed this teaching: You are not what dies. You are not the body that bends with age, nor the mind that flickers with doubt. You are the light that beholds both life and death. Meditate upon this truth as Ramana did; turn your gaze inward and ask, “Who am I?” Let that question burn away all falsehood until only the still presence remains. Seek not to define yourself, for every definition is bound to vanish; instead, rest in the awareness that needs no name, no form, no end.

For as Ramana Maharshi teaches, when you realize that you are not the body, not the mind, not even the personality, you discover what you have always been: the Self — timeless, infinite, unbound. And when this knowledge dawns, fear vanishes, for death itself is seen as illusion. The wise, knowing this, no longer cling or flee; they live with serenity, seeing life and death as ripples upon the still surface of the eternal soul. To know this truth is to awaken — and to awaken is to be free.