Know Thyself: Who Am I?

If I were to honestly evaluate my position in the universe, what kinds of questions would I ask myself?  The Greek sages probably stated it better, and more succinctly than most by saying, “Know Thyself”.  That is the core of knowing exactly where I fit in.  But what does it mean to know myself?  Who am I that I should know?  Or, where, exactly, am I?  What part of me is the glue that keeps “me” all together and allows me to know that I am?  Am I the body?

I see amputees and paraplegics and wonder what that must be like.  What would it be like to be able to say, “I’ve lost my legs”, or “I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”  Losing my legs, or not being able to use half my body would be a disappointing existence compared to my current ambulatory status.  Notice how I said “my” legs, and “my” body.  Doesn’t the ownership claimed by that simple word automatically mean that whatever is “mine” is absolutely not me?  I can say that about every part of my body – “my”:

• Head
• Chest
• Arms
• Legs
• Eyes
• Ears
• Nose
• Brain…

Wait a minute.  Couldn’t my brain be the same as “me”?  Is my brain “me”?  Should I say “my” brain?  Who knows there is a brain?  Does the brain know itself?

I’ve tried a thought process in which I transplant parts of my body, then ask the question, “Do I exist?” I already know if I were to lose all of my limbs I would still exist, therefore my limbs cannot be me.  If there was a way to preserve and keep alive just my head, I could comfortably still claim that I existed.  Now, what if they were able to remove my brain, and somehow keep that alive?  Would I exist then?  I think so, but I would be completely disassociated from all sensory input whatsoever.  Just a brain floating in a tank, allowed to think and dream all “I” wanted.  “I” would still exist.  What if the life support for the tank was pulled and the brain died?  Would I still exist?  That’s where my logic stops.  I don’t know if I would still exist.

I suppose I’ve located myself through that thought process, and it seems I am in, or associated with, my brain.  But there I go again saying, “my brain”.  Who’s brain?  Who says, “my brain”?  Is it just semantics, or is there something to that possessive pronoun?  The brain is nothing more than a collection of nerve cells and electrical activity.  What is in there that thinks?  What is in there that knows that it thinks?  Am I just my brain?  How can I be when I just said “my brain” again?

I have read that the body is just what it is, and our true nature has nothing to do with the body, but somehow that true nature gets attracted to the energy and thoughts of the body and associates itself with that, and forgets what it really is.  Then one day, it’s realized that there’s nothing there at all.  And here I sit, using my brain to try to understand this.

Who am I?  Where am I?  Who is asking the question, and why is it driving me crazy to know the truth?