What is the Self? Vedanta and the Power of Self-Knowledge

The Essence of Vedanta, Part 4

The subject matter of Vedanta is Self-knowledge — knowledge of YOU.

This is not, however, the ‘you’ that you’ve most likely spent the best part of a lifetime identifying as — the person you think you are based on the configuration of your body, mind, personality, your various roles, your self-image or personal history.

You may recall in the previous article on self-inquiry we took some time to examine this self-concept. In a step by step progress of negation, we demonstrated how you cannot be your body, your mind, your intellect, or ego.

What do your body, mind, intellect and ego all have in common? They’re all objects of your perception. Whether gross, like the body, or subtle, like the mind, they’re available for objectification. You see them, which means you cannot be them. The knower is always distinct from the known.

In Vedanta, we find the truth by removing the false. We come to the Self by removing the false assumptions we have made with regard to the self; specifically, the notions, “I am the body”, “I am the mind,” “I am my thoughts and story”.

When all these are negated as objects in awareness, objects that are impermanent and subject to change and modification, what we are left with is awareness itself.

This is the awareness in which your body, mind, thoughts and ego arise and subside; an awareness that is ever-present and unchanging — the light by which all things are known.

The Self is Ordinary, Ever-Present Awareness

As we’ll see, the Upanishads, the source texts of Vedanta, talk of the Self in a poetic, grandiose and exalted way. This can make it seem that the Self is something cosmic, lofty and transcendent; something far removed from the everyday little person we’re all so intimately familiar with.

In actual fact, the Self is your ordinary, everyday awareness. It’s the awareness that has been looking out of your eyes your entire life and in which every sight, sound, object, thought, emotion, desire and fear has been experienced.

“The self that you are, the self that you are going to realise, is totally ordinary,” James Swartz writes. “It is the awareness that is observing your mind take in these words, nothing more. It is not inaccessible at all. It is hidden in plain sight. It is always present and greatly unappreciated for no other reason than lack of understanding.”

The Self is pure awareness. It is the awareness in which the world of objects, including the gross and subtle bodies, exist as objects of perception.

In everyday conversation, the word ‘awareness’ is often used in reference to being aware of something. You might say, “I’m aware of the tree,” or “I’m aware of what happened at work this morning.” This implies that awareness is inconstant; that it comes and goes; that it can potentially be absent. Such awareness might seem to be a scarce commodity, otherwise, campaigners wouldn’t need to ‘raise awareness’ of various things!

Awareness, however, is independent of content. It is the eternal context in which the content appears. Regardless of what you are or aren’t aware of, awareness is constant. It’s always there. There’s no way to either gain or lose awareness.

As a side note, in this context, awareness and consciousness are synonymous. I generally tend to use the word awareness, because, for many, ‘consciousness’ tends to be equated with the content of one’s psyche, such as thoughts, memories, beliefs, etc.

(Additionally, you might notice the capitalisation of the word ‘Self’. This is simply to distinguish the Self as pure awareness from the ‘self’ that most people take themselves to be by identifying with the body-mind-sense complex (ie., the ego). In actual fact, there’s only self and it is not separate from what you are.)

The Light Bulb Metaphor

Although the Self is ordinary, ever-present awareness, contrary to popular assumption, this awareness is not a part, product or property of the body.

How can sentience arise from the insentient?

The body-mind-sense complex itself is inert, insentient matter. It depends upon a second principle in order to function.

What brings the body and mind to life is the Self. Awareness blesses this inert apparatus with sentience in much the same way as the sun blesses the moon with its reflected light. The gross and subtle bodies function, therefore, with the reflected consciousness of the Self.

“The Self is the light reflected by all. It shines, and everything shines after it.”
— Katha Upanishad

Swami Paramarthananda uses the analogy of a light bulb to explain this.

The bulb and filament represent the jiva (individual)’s gross and subtle body. By themselves, the bulb and filament are inert and incapable of producing light.

Another factor is required — the invisible principle by which the bulb becomes a source of light. This is the electricity principle.

Like electricity, there is an independent factor pervading the otherwise inert body-mind complex and granting it life. Just as electricity continues even if the bulb is broken, so is this animating principle unaffected by the condition of or loss of the body. The body may be gone, but the Self cannot go anywhere. It is, as we shall learn, without limit and without beginning or end.

Although there may be millions of light bulbs, electricity is one. Similarly, although there are billions of jivas, the Self pervading, illumining and granting them life is also one.

“The Self is one, though it appears to be many.
— Chandogya Upanishad

The Nature of the Self

Vedanta contends that awareness is not dependent upon the body but, rather, the body is dependent upon awareness.

This awareness then, which is the Self, is both immanent and transcendent. It is both personal in that it is intimately known to us as the essence of who we are, yet impersonal in that it is universal. There is, in fact, no difference between the individual self and the universal Self. Only the point of reference differs.

This Self can’t be described in terms of attributes, because it has no attributes.

As the Brahma Sutras state:

“Just as light which has no form appears to be endowed with different forms because of the object which it illumines, the Self, which has no attributes appears as if endowed with attributes.”

As we have established, the nature (svarupa) of the Self is awareness, but it can never be objectified or conceptualized. That’s why it can’t be described positively, but only in terms of what it is not — ie., birthless, deathless, timeless, limitless, etc.

About the only positive statement that can be made about the Self is that it is self-evident and self-revealing. It’s like the sun. You don’t need another source of light in order to reveal the sun. The sun is revealed by its own light, and so, too, is awareness.

The following analysis of the Self is taken from a commentary I am writing on the Bhagavad Gita.

1. The Self is Limitless

“The Self is that which is limitless, imperishable and unchanging. It is that which gives all beings existence and resides within them as their innermost essence.”
— Bhagavad Gita

Limitless is a strict definition. For something to qualify as limitless, it must be limitless at ALL times. It can’t be limitless some of the time and then limited at other times.

In addition, an object can never be without limits. In order to exist as an object, limitation is necessary (ie., an object must have boundaries). 

Therefore, the Self can’t be an object. It can’t be an object because it is itself the eternal subject — that by which all objects are known.

Being limitless, it’s impossible to find the beginning or the end of it. There’s no place it is not, no thing it is not and no time it is not.

You can actually verify this in your own experience. Can you find a beginning or an end to your awareness? Does it have a boundary, or does it contain everything? Is it a young awareness, or an old awareness? Is it a male awareness or a female awareness?

All you can say about awareness is that it is awareness, and that it has no boundary, no form, no objectification of any kind.

“This Self is never born, thus it can never die. When the body dies, the Self remains.”
Bhagavad Gita

Because the Self is limitless, it is also deathless. Death can only affect a limited entity subject to modification and change.

If the Self is limitless, then it must be the very basis and totality of existence.

Furthermore, it’s impossible for us to be anything other than the Self — because, again, that would necessitate limits (ie., something the Self is not).

2. The Self is Beyond Time

“Ever-present and changeless, it is without beginning and end.”
— Bhagavad Gita

Time only applies to the world of objects. In order to be affected by time, the Self would have to be both an object and subject to limitation. 

In the Gita, Krishna negates this. He tells Arjuna, “There was never a time that I did not exist, nor you, nor any of these kings. Nor will there ever come a time when we cease to exist.”

Clearly, he is not talking about their bodies, because bodies have a finite, time-bound existence. Therefore, the Self must be other than the body.

The Self, which is of the nature of consciousness, is not a part, product, or property of the body. It is a principle independent of the body which pervades and enlivens the body. It is not limited by the body’s boundaries or dimensions. Furthermore, it is not ‘born’ when the body appears, nor does it ‘die’ when the body is lost.

We all have this idea that we were born at a certain time in a certain place and that prior to that we did not exist. While it’s true that the body was born at a certain time and place and we have the birth certificate to prove it, the notion that you did not exist prior to this body is unprovable.

It’s unprovable because in order to say there was a time you were non-existent you would have to be there to know it. Non-existence, therefore, will always remain a concept and nothing more.

3. The Self is Non-dual

“Untouchable by anything in this world, the Self is all-pervading, immovable and eternal.”
— Bhagavad Gita

There is only one Self. Awareness is a partless whole. It has no division. While the world of form appears to the senses as a duality of ‘this’ and ‘that’, all objects are united as appearances in awareness.

Although without form, the Self pervades all forms. Like space, it contains all things. Just as space is one, in spite of all the objects appearing in it, so is the Self one. 

Swami Dayandana says, “The Self is not many; there is only one Self. Because the forms, upadhis, are many, there are many people, whereas the Self is one whole consciousness, not bound by time.”

While the world’s billions of bodies and minds all differ, each apparently unique, the Self animating your body and mind is no different from the Self animating my body and mind.

Swami Dayananda used the word upadhi, which is an important concept to understand.

Upadhi means ‘limiting adjunct’; an object which apparently lends its attributes to something else, making it appear to be other than it is. For instance, if clear water is kept in a red bottle, the water will appear to be red. The bottle is an upadhi, lending its quality of ‘redness’ to the colourless water.

The concept of upadhi explains why the Self, which Vedanta says is limitless and unbound, appears to be limited and bound.

Owing to the upadhi of the body-mind-sense complex, the Self seemingly takes on the properties of the body and mind, which are finite, time-bound and subject to birth, death, suffering and decay. But these attributes belong to the body and mind, not the Self.

While it’s true that the body and mind are constantly changing and subject to pain and sorrow, the Self is unaffected by pain and sorrow.

That’s because the Self is of a different order of reality to the body-mind-sense complex, just as a mirror is of a different order to reality to the objects reflected in it. You can change the objects in the room all you like and this will change the reflection in the mirror, but the mirror itself will not change.

3. The Self is Actionless

“Know Me (the Self) to be beyond doing, ever changeless and free. Actions do not affect Me. I have no personal desire to act, nor do I long for any particular results. The one who knows the Self as actionless is no longer bound by karma.”
— Bhagavad Gita

Because the Self is limitless, non-dual, and beyond time, it is actionless.

Awareness has no doership. To perform action requires motion — and motion requires both limitation and time. That’s why the Self, being limitless and beyond time, cannot perform any action.

The sun shines its light upon the world, allowing life to exist and flourish. But while the sun, the light, is the factor by which life happens, it cannot be said to be ‘doing’ anything.

Because the Self is akarta, actionless, and you are the Self, this means that doership doesn’t belong to you either. There’s another factor responsible for action (Ishvara), as we’ll see when we come to explore the nature of action and doership.

4. The Self Cannot Be Experienced as an Object 

“Unmanifest, it cannot be reached by the senses, and it is free from all modification.”
— Bhagavad Gita

The Self can’t be experienced as an object any more than the eye can see itself or a camera can take a picture of itself.

However, the existence of both the eye and the camera can be inferred by virtue of the images, the objects, they reveal. The camera can’t take a picture of itself, but the fact the pictures exist is proof that the camera exists.

The existence of objects presupposes a subject.

Although the Self, being subtler than the body, mind and intellect, can’t be experienced as an object, it clearly exists, for it is that by which all objects are known.

5. The Self is Self-evident and Self-revealing

“The Self is that which is all-knowing, all-pervading, timeless, the cause and ordainer of all things, beyond form, radiant as the sun, beyond knowing and unknowing.”
— Bhagavad Gita

Another metaphor for understanding the Self is to think of a cinema screen. 

The Self is the light which reveals the movie on the screen.

As you’re watching the movie, you get completely absorbed by the flickering images as they dance upon the screen. You identify with the characters and get carried away by the plot, which, for the duration of the movie, becomes utterly real to you. Your pulse quickens as the drama unfolds. At moments of tragedy, your eyes well with tears, moments of humour make you laugh and moments of horror make you squirm or scream.

All you are experiencing the whole time, however, is light projected upon a screen.

The moment the light goes out, the picture is gone and the imaginary world of the movie along with it.

The light was essential to the movie. You probably weren’t even aware of it because you were so immersed in the projection. But the light was ever-present. Even so, the light—that which allowed the movie to exist—was uninvolved and unchanged by the images on the screen. 

Similarly, the Self is that which allows the entire creation to unfold, yet remains actionless and unaffected by the dance.

By its very nature, Awareness is self-evident and self-revealing. Much like the cinema light, it is that by which all things are known, and that upon which all things depend for their existence.

Existence and Borrowed Existence

In the second chapter of the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna:

“The unreal does not exist and the real never ceases to be.”

Understanding the distinction between the real (satya) and the unreal (mithya) is the key to liberation.

Every object can be seen to have two components to it: its essence and its form.

The essence of an object is its real nature; that which is intrinsic, permanent and independently existent. The essence relies on nothing else for its existence. This is Vedanta’s definition of ‘real’. In Sanskrit, it is referred to as sat, or satya.

By contrast, the form of an object, its incidental nature, doesn’t exist independently. It borrows its existence from satya and is time-bound and subject to change and loss.

Unlike satya, all forms are perishable and impermanent. The term for this is mithya, meaning ‘unreal’. 

In short, satya is the independent cause and mithya is the dependent effect.

Shankara uses the analogy of a pot and clay. While it might at first seem reasonable to conclude that ‘the pot exists’, in actuality, the pot has no independent existence of its own. It borrows its existence from the clay.  ‘Pot’ is just a name and form given to the clay. As such, it is time-bound. There was a time when the pot didn’t exist and if it breaks, there will be a time when it ceases to exist. The clay will remain but the pot will be gone.

The pot, therefore, is mithya and the clay is satya. Mithya, being a configuration of name and form only, always relies upon satya for its existence.

The ability to differentiate between satya and mithya is crucial to liberating the mind. This is what Krishna means when he says, “The unreal does not exist and the real never ceases to be.” 

In the context of this discussion, the Self alone is satya — real —  the entire world of phenomenal experience, including the gross and subtle bodies, is mithya — only apparently real. 

Confusing the Real and Unreal

Confusing satya and mithya is the root of all our sorrows.

This confusion is one of mutual superimposition.

In any act of perception, there are two subtle factors involved.

The first is object-knowledge — cognition of the object we perceive.

The second is knowledge of what Shankara calls ‘is-ness’; ie, the principle of existence.

We see the pot (object-knowledge) and we say the pot exists (existence-knowledge). Object knowledge relates to mithya, and the existence or is-ness thought relates to satya.

Our error is in mixing up the two.

By a process of mutual superimposition, we superimpose is-ness on the object, believing that the object itself possesses an independent existence; that it is satya, real.

That’s why we might say, “the body is”. We think the body has its own independent existence rather than a borrowed existence.

At the same time, we superimpose the qualities of mithya upon satya. That’s why we take the body and mind’s attributes to belong to the Self.

Like the clear water which, due to its proximity to the red glass bottle, appears to be red, the Self appears to possess the properties of the body and mind. That’s why we say, “I am happy,” “I am sad,” “I am fat,” “I am thin.” 

This is an error of perception, caused by ignorance.

As the Bhagavad Gita says, the Self is free of all attributes, and without limit or objectification. If the Self is limitless and without attribute, how could it — how could I — possibly be happy, sad, fat, or thin? 

As long as you identify with the body or mind, you are subject to its miseries. But the moment you shift your locus of identity from mithya to satya, from the body and mind to awareness, you are free of all limitation.

The Ultimate Truth in Three Words

The whole of Vedanta can be encapsulated in three words:

Tat Tvam Asi — That Thou Art.

‘That’ refers to Brahman, which is another name for the Self; the reality underlying all that exists. Brahman is satya; the intrinsic, all-pervading, unchanging existence from which all phenomenal objects derive their borrowed existence. 

Everything that exists is Brahman. Brahman plus name and form is what we perceive as the phenomenal world, in the same way that clay plus name and form is what we perceive as the pot.

‘Thou’ refers to the jiva, the individual; the body-mind-sense complex that takes itself to be a person with its own inherent existence.

The final part of the equation, ‘art’, links the two.

Therefore, it means, ‘you are Brahman.’

If this knowledge was a self-evident fact there would be no need for Vedanta. Human beings, knowing their non-difference from this changeless, ever-present Self, would not be subject to samsara. 

Samsara is born of ignorance of this fact.

The sage Nisargadatta Maharaj once said

“To take appearance for reality is a grievous sin and the cause of all calamities. You are the all-pervading, eternal and infinite awareness—consciousness. All else is local and temporary. Don’t forget what you are.”

The inability to discriminate satya from mithya creates a world of suffering for the jiva. The whole purpose of Vedanta is to resolve this confusion. 

By declaring “That thou art”, the “thou”, the jiva, is essentially negated. It revealed to be mithya, which means appearance alone.

You are “That” — the Self — the underlying reality that is satya.

Shankara further summarized the essence of Vedantic teaching in a single sentence:

Brahman alone is satya (real), the world is mithya (unreal), and the jiva is non-different from Brahman.

We have established that the world is mithya. All perceivable objects are time-bound, limited and have no intrinsic existence of their own. They depend upon another factor for their existence. 

Think of a gold ring. Though we call it a ‘ring’, the ring has no independent existence of its own. What we have is gold plus a name and form.  By melting it down, the ring — the name and form — is destroyed, but the gold remains. Was it ever really a ‘ring’ at all?

In the same way, the entire mithya world borrows temporary existence from satya, which is the Self. That’s why Shankara ends the sentence by affirming that the jiva is actually non-separate from the Self.

Jivahood or personhood is a notion that is superimposed upon the Self. Swami Dayananda calls it “an error of self-identity, which only the teaching can resolve”.

The Liberating Power of Self-Knowledge

The Self is pure awareness; the changeless screen upon which the entire phenomenal world is projected like a desert mirage. All-pervading, this awareness is partless and indivisible.

As the Bhagavad Gita says, “The Self is never born, thus it can never die.” While bodies die, cast aside like worn-out old clothes, the Self simply adopts new bodies. “Ever-present and changeless, it is without beginning and end.”

If the Self is limitless and untouched by anything in this world — and I am the Self — then my sense of lack, inadequacy and want is illegitimate. It is based on ignorance of my nature. Taking myself to be a body, subject to the ravages of time, injury, sickness, and death, I am beset by limitation. But Krishna makes it clear: “You grieve over that which does not warrant grief.”

The dawning of Self-knowledge; the realization that you are by nature free, self-effulgent awareness and the source of your own happiness, is the light that dispels the dark suffering of ignorance.

There’s Only One Factor In Existence

The key understanding in Vedanta is that, in spite of the appearance of duality, there’s actually only one factor in existence, and that is Brahman, or the Self — that which is eternal, whole, divisionless, and beyond time and form.

The nature of the Self is sat chit ananda: existence, consciousness, and bliss.

In referring to the Self as ‘consciousness’, we use the term a little differently from its general modern day usage. We are talking of pure, unconditioned consciousness; consciousness prior to consciousness of ‘this’ or ‘that’.

This consciousness is synonymous with awareness; the light by which all objects are perceived and experienced; a light forever present and always untouched by those objects of perception and experience.

Again, this is not some kind of exalted or ‘special’ awareness that you can only acquire by practising advanced yoga and deep meditation for years on end.

This awareness is already present as the very essence of who you are; the ever-present screen upon which the gross objects of the physical world and the subtle objects of your inner mental world appear before you.

It’s that perfectly ordinary, everyday awareness that is present throughout your entire existence — the light by which all things are known — but which you are rarely, if ever, conscious of.

Another potential confusion can arise with the use of the word ‘bliss’. This is not an experiential bliss, in terms of going around with a big smile on your face. It’s the bliss inherent in being that which alone is; that which is limitless in every way. In fact, the word for limitless is ananta, which would perhaps be a better translation than ananda.

If this Self is limitless, then reality has to be non-dual. There can’t be anything other than the Self, for this would create a duality necessitating limitation on the part of the Self.

Finally, it’s incorrect to say that the Self exists. The Self is existence; the eternal substratum of all that is manifest and unmanifest. Anything that exists can only be said to exist because it borrows its existence from the Self, just as a wave borrows its existence from the ocean or the pot borrows its existence from clay.

The Self, the World and the Person

It’s from this limitless and non-dual Self that a limited and finite world of duality appears.

This happens courtesy of maya, a power inherent in the Self which allows the formless One to apparently become an entire universe of multiplicity. 

Because the Self is the only factor in existence, this universe of form cannot be different from the Self. It is appearing in the Self and is composed of the Self, in the same way that a dreamworld appears in the consciousness of the dreamer and is composed of that same consciousness.

Thus, Nirguna Brahman, the Self without form, appears as Saguna Brahman, the Self with form. 

Another word for Saguna Brahman is Ishvara. In Vedanta, Ishvara, or God, is the name given to the Self associated with maya.

Ishvara is seen as both the intelligence that shapes the phenomenal world and the very substance out of which it is created. Ishvara is not separate from the Self. It is the Self associated with maya.

The formless Self can only appear as form by virtue of what we call an upadhi.

An upadhi, you may recall, is a limiting adjunct; something that apparently transfers its qualities to something else.

The classic example Vedanta gives is of a clear crystal held in proximity to a red rose. If you aren’t aware of the rose behind the crystal, you might assume that you have a red crystal in your hand. In actual fact, the rose is acting as an upadhi, transferring its quality of redness to the transparent crystal.

In the same way, maya acts as an upadhi, making the formless, limitless Self appear to be a universe of form and differentiation. The Self associated with the maya upadhi appears as Ishvara; the substance of the creation as well as the intelligence and laws that govern this creation.

The Self associated with the upadhi of an individual gross and subtle body appears a jiva. Thus, pure awareness, which has no form, gender, or attribute of any kind, apparently becomes a person with a particular body and mind; one among billions.

Again, this is simply the work of an upadhi. The Self remains formless, limitless and non-dual, but appears to take on form and limitation.

Immersed in this illusion of maya, the human ego takes itself to be an actual, independently existent entity, when it is, in fact, only an appearance in awareness, afflicted by a mind conditioned by ignorance.

The jiva sees itself as separate from others, from the world, and from Ishvara. This is because the jiva takes itself to be a body, mind, intellect and ego, failing to realize that all these are a superimposition on the Self. All differences belong to the world of form and appearance; to the maya upadhi.

Whether it is the Self associated with the total creation (Ishvara) or the Self identified with a particular body and mind (jiva), everything is actually just the Self, much as every river and ocean is only water.

All that creates an apparent difference is one’s point of reference. From the perspective of a man’s wife, he is a husband. From the perspective of his father, he is a son. From the perspective of his sister, he is a brother. But it is the same man in all cases; only the point of reference differs.

In the same way, there is only one Self appearing as different forms, while at essence remaining formless and undifferentiated.

The next article in this series will explore the three-step process by which Vedanta is taught, how this knowledge of the Self leads to liberation, and why certain ‘qualifications’ must first be in place in order for the teaching to work.

The articles in this Essence of Vedanta series are excerpts from my commentary on the Bhagavad Gita, which systematically unfolds pretty much the entire teaching of Advaita Vedanta. Be sure to get your copy and enjoy the entire series and much more in its entirety. “Bhagavad Gita – The Divine Song” by Rory B Mackay is available on the Unbrokenself shop here, and also on Amazon and all other good booksellers.


Other articles in this series

What is Advaita Vedanta?

The Problem of Suffering

Limitation, The Quest for Liberation and the Four Human Pursuits

Samsara and How to Escape the Wheel of Suffering

Who Are You? How to Practice Vedantic Self-Inquiry

What is the Self? Vedanta and the Power of Self-Knowledge

The Truth About Enlightenment

Vedanta, Spiritual Practice and the Necessity of a Qualified Mind

Karma Yoga: Vedanta’s Secret Weapon For Purifying the Mind

Vedanta’s Definition of God

Practising Self-Knowledge: The 3 Stages of Vedanta

What is a Jiva?

Action, Free Will and the Three Orders of Reality

About Rory 130 Articles
Rory Mackay is a writer and artist who was born and lives in Scotland. Having practised meditation and studied Eastern philosophy since he was a teenager, his life is devoted to sharing the knowledge, wisdom and tools that transformed his life. In addition to teaching meditation and traditional Advaita Vedanta, he has written two metaphysical fantasy/sci-fi novels ('Eladria' and 'The Key of Alanar') and releases electronic ambient music under the name Ajata. When not at work, he can be found in nature, walking his rescue dog, and studying and translating Vedantic texts.