In my last Living Context post, I felt I’d seen something clearly — that the push to “become” less reactive or more spiritual was just another egoic move. I called it māyā, softened toward it, even felt done with it.
But this past week, that clarity met daily life — and began to unravel.
Because here’s the uncomfortable possibility:
Was I simply trying to become someone who had seen through becoming?
The More Subtle Identity
This version of ego doesn’t shout. It whispers:
“Look, I’m not reactive anymore.”
“I’ve moved beyond the need to change.”
“This is choiceless awareness now.”
Suddenly, the one trying to become disappears — replaced by the one who’s become “the witness.” Judgment re-emerges. Impatience. Wanting to be awareness, trying to act it, trying to live up to it.
JK vs. Advaita vs. Me
J. Krishnamurti famously warned: the very attempt to change is the root of conflict. His alternative? Choiceless awareness — direct seeing of what is, without effort, without becoming.
Advaita, on the other hand, lays out a path: cultivate the mind, clarify through viveka and vairāgya, qualify through śama, dama, and so forth, then engage in self-inquiry.
But the lived truth is messier. You don’t finish your sādhana and then “move on.” You revisit it — sometimes painfully.
I thought I was doing nididhyāsana.
But what this week revealed was a leaky mananam —
and a quietly shaky mumukṣutva.
So Why Don’t I Drop It?
JK used to say: if your hand touches fire, you pull it back instantly.
So why, if the ego is false, don’t I drop it instinctively?
Maybe because I don’t yet see it as fire.
The psychological self still feels necessary.
It manages relationships, interprets meaning, and gives me a familiar role — the seeker, the one trying to live Vedanta.
Even in its refined form — armed with viveka and vairāgya — this self still wants to remain intact.
Bhakti (From a Distance)
I know many traditions — especially bhakti — would invite full-hearted surrender. But that’s not my wiring, at least not yet. What I can do is stay with this inquiry, even if it’s not devotional in tone.
Not Back to Basics — Back to the Fire
This isn’t regression. Not failure.
It’s a deeper meeting of foundations — without the self-image of someone who’s “already internalised it.”
This is where mananam gets real, where ideas scrape against daily experience, and inconsistencies get loud.
Where Am I Now?
Not in clear seeing. Not deep abidance.
Not dramatic surrender.
Just here, wondering:
“What part of me is still holding on — and why?”
Is it lack of conviction? Comfort? Habit? Fear of disappearing? False ideas of no-self?
I don’t know. Maybe all of the above.
But if I stay with these questions — without performance, without rushing into becoming — perhaps that’s the most honest next step on this path.
Simply Vedanta 