I enjoy writing but often a large part of the process reminds me on days I don’t have much to contribute, especially when in philosophical contexts. I am often overcome by a sense of thought that what’s been written, has already been written. Where is my sense of addition. Writers often consider themselves to have a new view-point contrary to popular opinions, and sure lot many do, but this kind of an air can push people to think in ways they are best served without.

I have always imagined myself as a writer who speaks on philosophical ideas. But it doesn’t often come easy. It is years of built up knowledge waiting to be vented and sometimes the draft doesn’t look half as good. I see orignal writers having the ability to put out their raw thoughts and readers would chime to their words, start to end. I must admit early on, I lacked that confidence initially. I feel in a generation othat lives on 30-second-attentions, an article would seem a life spent not so well.

“Spirituality advances immoral funerals one at a time.”

But, the desire to churn words remain. I am occupied with the thought of the kind I would write, how would I write, how would the ideas come about, how would I keep it interesting, does a formal degree promise enhanced readership? Is it pure skillbased? Does my skin irritate to the temperature of mindsets? Still, I try. To many of my readers, I like to believe my writing gives them hope, and makes them come back every time they are at the glass-half-empty. I find no difficulty in offering in that. A life-time subscription of sorts. The difficulty usually is with the narrative. 

I recently stumbled upon a lecture by Naval Ravikant which spoke about the book Godel Escher Bach (popularly knows as GEB) and if any of you has known me personally, my obsession with the self is an intimate one. For a long time it has remained my single-most occupation to understand the depth’s and vicissitude in the construction of the “self”.

We are aware when a child is born, the concept of self is born with it. It has the needs and wails. It has the curiosity and survival. It is innate. The origins fascinate me. In a hypothetical world, the child if born with none would be as bland. Writing and exploring more on it has been one of my life’s work. To educate others on the self, while trying to keep a strict check over mine.

The “self” intrigues me for all the ways in which human propagation and thought propagation remain. The range of activities can be from anywhere in setting up an industry, wealth creation to it being at the centre of all wrong reasons – unlimited and exploratory sexual disease without a moral compass, arrogance, promiscuity, borderline psychological behaviour and the death of a moral premise.

My first exploration into the “self” began from the depth of writings of ʾImam Al-Ghazzali. Both rich in spiritual content and psychological facets. His writings left a tremendous impact on me. Over the course of a few days, it changed my perspective on life and struck deep. Often in areas I felt wounded knowing a superior thought existed that evened out mine.

ʾImam Al-Ghazzali is by no means one of those writers you can sift through the works of in a single sitting. He is an acquired taste. A blanche of existent tastes. Exquisite and eloquent. He is the embodiment of his pinnacles of work. The very detailed structure and construction any young soul freshly minted out of college or a couple of years into interaction with money is best served. The belief of the self and the over extension of it is a disease and must be referred to it exactly as is. Naval Ravikant writes, “Science advances one funeral at a time.”, I would like to paraphrase it, “Spirituality advances immoral funerals one at a time.”

If the conquest remains the self, the battle is going to be an everlasting one, expectantly a successful one at the end. 

When you look at spirituality you look at the ideas of the past and imagine putting them to move life further. While this has remained the approach, it makes sense to fit working models or theories into daily practice but the yield is dependent on the isolated metrics it is put into practice with. Say, you read a piece by ʾImam Al-Ghazzali  and decide to go through life with his principles, it would largely fit if the circumstances were similar, for all thought is a by-product of current experiences and future hopes.

On the note of the “self”, I find Godel Escher Bach as a unique book encompassing the loop structure or the infinite existence of man’s mind. There are loops we are all in. Ones that come from daily existences, interaction, hopes, goals. They may serve as our way to move forward in life but they keep us in an infinite structural form. May have a beginning but there is no real end. Such is often the pursuit of man in most spheres of life. The self is the expression of this loop. If the self goes, the loop has little relevance. 

Sufi saint’s often wrote about the demise of the self. The complete annihilation of it. Ayn Al-Qudat Hamdhani even goes on to speak of the annihilation of the annihilation. The absolute death of the self. For them, the self remained the single most reason for physical attributes of human existence. Without it, the element of man escapes and it is only the presence of the divine that remains. Ego positions itself at the centre of all “self”. Ego is darkness. Ego relates to narcissism and most complex ism’s in philosophy. If the self isn’t there, most things settle. To me this is a very strong idea towards discovery of the true nature. 

I would often find myself arguing what the purpose of life would be without a self. The thought of selflessness would overshadow my mind, one that makes one realise the lesser importance of oneself. Over importance of the self is another kind of disease, the kind which decays the moral compass and shifts the narrative into a singular focus of hedonism.

To remain still without the self is where the divine presence can be truly and infinitely be felt.