Which “I” Do We Mean?

Which “I” Do We Mean?

When we call ourselves “I,” which “I” do we really mean?

There’s the first “I”—our ego, the conscious self we move through the world with, reasoning and deciding, shaping a narrative of who we are.

But if we step into a yoga class or sit down to meditate, a second “I” appears. This one doesn’t stretch or breathe; it observes. It watches us enter downward dog; it notices the chatter between our ears. This is the witness—quiet, patient, and somehow a little above or behind the first “I.”

Then comes a third “I,” the one that witnesses the witness. A fourth arrives in dreams, where it wanders through our sleeping landscapes, standing in for us while we rest. And then, most mysteriously, there is a fifth “I.”

This fifth “I” is the one that writes our books, paints our canvases, launches our ventures. It doesn’t belong to the first four. It moves independently, yet it is undeniably us. This is the “I” that interests me most.

Do I get lonely, sitting alone in a room day after day? Not at all. Because I am never alone. I am in the company of this other “me”—the one who is both myself and not myself, my lifelong companion. I have spent years seeking it, trying to prove myself worthy of it, and learning how to labor alongside it. It is muse, partner, and mirror all at once.

And when it shows up, when it takes its place beside me, the work becomes something greater than I could have ever made alone.