Writing is something that I enjoy doing, but, like many things that bring joy, I often need to dig deep to find the motivation to write when I don’t feel like it. This morning was one of those mornings when I couldn’t quite think of what to write about. So I turned to look at my bookshelf for some inspiration - like I often do when this is the case. I’m still planning on writing the final post in the series of posts reflecting on the book Can the Mind be Quiet? by Krishnamurti, but in flicking through the pages that I’d turned the corners of - something I do with all books if there’s something valuable on the page - I realised that I’d need to re-read the last section on Meditation before writing about it. This is just how it is sometimes. Ideas take time to sink in and to be synthesised and translated into writing. However, sat next to Krishnamurti’s book, I noticed the The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer, and decided that I’d dig back into it to share some of the things I learned from it.

When I read this book a couple of months ago, I remember it having a strong impact on me. There is a lot of depth and truth contained in its pages that I believe is incredibly valuable. My inclination to pick this book up again and write about it is perhaps also guided by my current state. I’ve started to feel as if my soul is becoming tethered and captive to my melodrama and mind-projections - losing my ability to focus, the joy in the little things, and the appreciation of the preciousness of every moment. I hope that re-reading some passages from this book will help kick some of these impurities out of me, and at the same time, perhaps my writing, inspired by Singer’s, will also benefit whoever is reading this post.

In the interest of keeping things as digestible as possible, I’ll be writing a few posts about this book. The first coincides with the first chapter of the book, titled Awakening Consciousness. This is an important matter, so this post reflects on this chapter. Once we understand how to awaken our consciousness, we can start making progress along the path to untethering ourselves.

Our inner voice

Backtracking a little bit, the first time I heard about this book was while watching a YouTube video on a great channel called Strength Side. It was a morning mobility and meditation routine - one that I really enjoyed for its simplicity and effectiveness. At the beginning of the video, the guy reads a passage from a book - it happened to be this one. He finishes with the following: “True personal growth is about transcending the part of you that is not okay and needs protection. This is done by constantly remembering that you are the one inside that notices the voice talking. That is the way out. The one inside who is aware that you are always talking to yourself about yourself is always silent. It is a doorway to the depths of your being. To be aware that you are watching the voice talk is to stand on the threshold of a fantastic inner journey. If used properly, the same mental voice that has been a source of worry, distraction, and general neurosis can become the launching ground for true spiritual awakening. Come to know the one who watches the voice, and you will come to know one of the great mysteries of creation.”

I remember when I first heard this passage. It resonated with me. Over time, I’ve realised more and more that much of the difficulties and turmoil that we experience are a result of internal conflict. Of the mind getting caught up in it’s own little world, losing perspective of things, and not being aware that it is the how and not the what that determines one’s level of peace.

Transcendence is an interesting thing. It can be viewed as taking what is good in you and making it better or, more broadly, as an experience that goes beyond normal limits. In this case, the limit is our own psyche, which creates a constant battle with the inner voice, constraining and constructing one’s beliefs to protect oneself from facing the truth. To go beyond our limits, therefore, requires that we dissociate our inner voice from reality. They are two separate things. This seems to undermine the philosophical statement, “I think, therefore I am”, by René Descartes. However, I think that this statement is, in fact, false. For we aren’t our thoughts. It may seem like this if we are always caught in our unconscious thought patterns and their superficiality. However, in reality, we can choose to be an observer, residing in the depths of our consciousness. Notice how neither Singer nor I are saying that we should silence this inner voice. This is an almost impossible task in the Western world, at least without devotion and discipline towards a meditation practice, after which one may experience true inner silence. Instead, it’s about realising that you are not your voice - choosing to watch it without judgement, from a place of equanimity.

If you’re quite confused now, don’t worry. I was when I first listened to this passage, and I still very much only understand this matter at an intellectual level, not experiential. But, if you’re anything like me, the possibility of removing some of the baggage of my incessant internal chatter seems rather appealing. And if you also have an interest in spirituality, like I do, then the possibility of this being a tool to “true spiritual awakening” is exciting. So, there I was, just before doing some mobility exercises, gaining a slight hint of the fact that maybe I am the problem all along, for I realise, not for the first time, that it is far less about the external than the internal. And, if this is in fact the case, who wouldn’t want to start taking steps on a “fantastic inner journey” that will allow them to understand one of the “great mysteries of creation”? I certainly would.

So, roll on a few months, maybe even a couple of years, I decided to pick up this book. It had also been listed as a suggestion on a website including good books about spirituality, so I thought I’d give it a read. Before the passage quoted above, Singer points us towards the voice inside our head - that is, the inner voice. The one that may begin commenting on someone who’s being loud on the train as follows: “Why do they need to be so loud? How dare they think that they have the right to talk so loudly on the train? And what they’re talking about is not even important either. How selfish can some people be?” I’m sure that you’re all familiar with this voice. It’s the voice that acts from our unconscious mind. One that, unless tamed, can overwhelm us and lead us to lose control - in this case, it may be that you tell the people to “shut up”, or, perhaps even worse, prolonged conflict may occur inside your mind. Such situations are cases where our internal voice acts to try to conform the outside world to the conditioning of our psyche. Trying to create a semblance of control, which is in fact simply an illusion. This allows us to distort reality to fit our views, beliefs, and opinions. It’s this same inner voice that Singer encourages us to become observers of. However, he notes that this will make us “feel more open and exposed”, as I guess, in essence, we’ve now removed the previous filtering and distortion that our unconscious mind was performing. However, I believe that, as we’ll see later on, this is a necessary step in freeing oneself from the shackles of one’s mind. For it opens up an infinite expansiveness that is otherwise unaccessible, and frees up a tremendous amount of energy to actually experience life, as it is.

Most of what our internal voice says is completely meaningless. This is the truth. What’s also true is that most of our lives will unfold according to forces far outside of our control. Therefore, if one realises that our inner voice merely creates an illusion, a semblance of control and comfort, then we are able to live more fully, with the knowledge that life is simply a collection of experiences, there for us to experience. This is not to say to live life with complete passivity, however, it builds a strong case for going with the flow, at least at a high level, as our thoughts have far less of an impact on the outside world than we think. Therefore, why not choose to view things in a good light? It would certainly free us from much pain and despair. I can’t even begin to think about how often I get caught up in my own internal dialogue about small, insignificant matters. I imagine that I’m not the only one, either. Realising the existence of the inner voice is the first piece of the puzzle.

The unwelcome flatmate

Now that I’ve touched on the concept of this inner voice, what exactly is it, and how has it arrived where it has, incessantly commenting on all that is happening externally? To understand this, we must become familiar with the concept of the psyche. The psyche is often called the Soul or the mind. However, I believe that there’s a clear distinction and possible separation between them, so long as one isn’t simply caught up in one’s mind. Why do I say this? Because I believe that the soul lies and stems from the spiritual heart. Not the heart in the physical sense, but the heart that guides us through life - the one which experiences and knows the truth. It’s the centre of our spiritual selves, if you like. But its infinite potential is often highly untapped, for we are caught up in our minds. More precisely, we’re captivated in the prison of our psyche, in which we are unaware that we’re imprisoned.

The psyche is the root of the “neurotic burst of conflicting dialogue” that we constantly experience. A simple example is me this morning. Instead of sitting to eat my breakfast and only eat my breakfast - with full presence of the food that is on my spoon, the flavours and the textures when chewing - my internal voice was thinking about other things. About whether I have the right tent for a camping trip that I’m going on, or what I’ll write a blog post about. But this chatter is completely pointless and a huge waste of energy. More seriously, it meant that I did not appreciate my food, dulling an experience that has the potential to bring so much internal joy.

So, where do these thoughts originate from? Past experiences and thoughts that reside in our psyche. What’s the psyche? It’s this ‘box’ if you like, that we’ve constructed over the years to fit our views and beliefs. Consequently, it itself is simply a collection of thoughts and experiences that create the floor, roof, and walls of this prison that is our psyche. The uncomfortable truth is that by allowing the internal voice residing in our psyche to predominate our lives, we will always project our fears and insecurities onto others, or something else - ignoring the fact that the source of trouble is in fact this unwelcome flatmate that is our psyche. This is what causes much of the suffering in our lives, but it needn’t be there.

So, how does one tell this unwelcome flatmate that we’d like them to kindly leave? Well, Singer states that if we want to kick it out, we really have to want to do so. No half-hearted attempts here. And for us to arrive at the point where it is even slightly possible to kick it out, we need to have spent quite some time with it. Observing its workings, its operation, and the evolution of our own mental melodrama. Only then will we have a basis for using practices to help us free ourselves from the captivity of our minds. Then we can begin freeing ourselves from ourselves, noticing that distance is required between ourselves and our psyche. Just like Sri Chimnoy says, once we’ve reached the point where we wish to fully commit to the inner work of freedom, we must do so without turning back. The choice to do so must come from a place of purity and clarity. So we must be careful not to make this choice if we’re still caught up in a battle with our psyche. But once we make the choice, it will certainly be worth it. For it will allow us to reclaim our lives. The only life that we have.

Who am I?

Singer touches on one fascinating yet important point that must be understood before we can begin to progress along the spiritual path. It’s the concept of the Self. Now, like me, you may think that the question of who you are is an easy one to answer. You may say something along the lines of: “I’m John, and I’m 37 years old.” And if I reply and say that this is not who you are, you may start giving more detail: “OK, I’m John, I’m 37 years old, and I’m from Bath. I have 3 children, a wife, and I work as an electrician. I am a surfer too, and I’m 5ft 5 and weigh 70 kg. When I was younger, I played the violin and was a footballer…” You get the gist. Surely if I explain all of my experiences, that’s a pretty perfect representation of who I am, right? False. I’ve explained why we are not our thoughts, as they are merely constructions in your mind, and they can even be absent during deep meditation, during which we still exist. We are also not our experiences, actions, or profession. In fact, we’re not anything in the outside world. We cannot be.

So, who am I then? If I am not my thoughts, my experiences, or emotions, who am I? You are the one who resides in the seat of consciousness - a place of pure awareness. Without consciousness, we cannot see clearly, regardless of whether there’s a big elephant standing in front of us in the room or whether we simply see an expansive, empty field. We can be immersed in a situation full of stimuli, objects, and experiences, and still be absent, unaware. This is the case if we do not sit in the depths of our consciousness. Conversely, we can be immersed in a situation absent of any external stimuli and objects with complete awareness of this, being able to see events, emotions, and thoughts pass before us. That is who we really are. The centre of our consciousness. The Self is the one who takes that seat. Once we realise this and take this seat, we become aware and observant of the outside world, which we experience through our senses, but realise that we are not anything external.

Singer explains that we’ve always been the “conscious receiver of what was”. Our whole life - the experiences, emotions, thoughts, events etc. - are simply things that the consciousness is aware of. Something that helped me make sense of this was to think about the initial answer that John gave to the question above. If John is an electrician, living in Bath, with three kids and so on, then who was he before he had this job and lived in this place with his three children? He was still here. He still existed. OK, but as a teenager, he may have been in school, with a girlfriend called Clara, and a dog called Jim. So that’s who he was then, right? The more one thinks about this, the more one begins to realise that these are simply things in the outside world. They are not us. The true us has always been the same - we’re the Self, which sits in the centre of our consciousness. This is not to say that our outward Self has not changed, just that we’ve always been and always will be the inner Self.

The important thing to take away here is that we are not the outside world or our outside projection to the world. We are the Self, which sits in our deep consciousness.

Focused awareness

Having introduced the concept of awareness, one might notice some similarity between being aware and observing things and a certain type of dream. The type of dream I’m referring to is a lucid dream. This is the example that Singer gives to help explain what it means to be seated in the awareness of Self. During a lucid dream, you might think, “Whoa, I’m dreaming that I am running. I’m going to run over there.” Contrast this to a regular dream, where we are so immersed that we are unaware that you are aware. It’s no different in our daily lives. There exists a continuum scale of awareness - ranging from entirely unaware, where all of our actions, thoughts, emotions etc. are controlled and originate from a place of unconsciousness, to entirely aware, where we remain inwardly aware that we are the one experiencing the “events and the corresponding thoughts and emotions.” Then, if you like, when a thought arises, we simply observe it, instead of getting lost and caught up in it. If you’re anything like most people, though, this is easier said than done. But there are things that we can do to help develop a deeper awareness. It all starts with focus. More specifically, focused awareness.

We’ve all heard the word focus, and have all experienced moments when we are in deep focus. Think about a time when you were in an exam, having to focus on the question at hand. However, even in situations like this, focus can come and go, and we might catch ourselves thinking about the person mowing the lawn outside the exam hall if we hear the sound of a lawnmower. This is a prime example of the ability of consciousness to concentrate on different things. In this case, our awareness is selective, deciding one moment to focus on the question on the exam paper and the next moment to focus on the lawnmower and everything else we associate with this - like a person in hi viz, the smell and sight of grass. Singer states, however, that if our consciousness is not centered, it *“invariably gets attracted toward one or more of those objects and focuses on them.” In the extreme, if it concentrates enough, we lose our sense of awareness and become object-conscious.

A real-world analogy that he gives to help explain this loss of awareness is a TV. Now, I’m not anti-TV, but I don’t really like them. One of the reasons for this is that watching TV is a way in which we can lose all focused awareness effortlessly. When we’re watching a show on TV, we almost lose our sense of other things going on around us, and the awareness of Self is lost in what’s on the TV. Similarly, if our consciousness is not centred, we easily become lost in our inner show - the one that consists of emotions and thoughts that reside in our psyche. We lose awareness of the Self, failing to create the necessary separation between it and the outside world. Interestingly, I believe that this may be the reason why passively watching TV gives a false semblance of control. For the psyche, if one is uncentered, watching TV is comfortable as it creates a familiar state of unfocused awareness. It’s often far easier to remain in one place on the continuum scale of awareness than to perform the hard work to start sliding towards a state of focused awareness. This is the place where we reside when we get lost and caught up in emotions, senses, and experiences. It’s familiar and comfortable for the unillumined mind, just like the living room where the TV sits. But, in actuality, we’re always quietly sitting deep in the seat of Self. It’s just that the our preoccupation with our melodrama makes us forget that we are still in there.

So, since we often get caught up in our own emotions, thoughts, and feelings, how do we re-centre when this happens? Singer suggests just starting by saying “hello” inside. Repeatedly. Over and over. Then, to notice, without thinking about being aware of it, that thought. This awareness of thought is your “seat of centered consciousness.” However, our consciousness is not merely occupied by thoughts and emotions. We’re also exposed to a continuous synchronisation of objects through our five senses. The combination of these sensory perceptions and our feelings about them can, unsurprisingly, very quickly dominate our consciousness, making us unaware of the Self. We lose knowledge of the separateness of us and the object, moving from witness consciousness to unconsciousness. In Singer’s words, this “is what it means to be lost.” Now, instead of seeing oneself as oneself, we view ourselves as the “sum of our learned experiences” as our consciousness has become extremely one-pointed.

Now, notice how this state is one where our awareness is no longer independent of objects, both inner and outer. As touched on earlier, consciousness can be thought of as a state of awareness. Importantly, all consciousness is the same, absent from qualities. However, when our consciousness is not centred, we become focused on the objects of the consciousness, thereby losing awareness that we are aware. Importantly, consciousness can become aware of awareness. This is deep, true meditation, during which our focus has turned back to the Self. During such meditation, we contemplate the source of consciousness, creating separation between the object and Self. This is the first step to becoming awakened. Going back to the analogy of watching TV, shifting from immersion in the object to contemplation of the nature of the Self is no different to shifting from immersion in the TV to awareness that you are the one sitting watching the TV. Everything has remained the same, just that we’re no longer projecting our “sense of self onto that particular object of consciousness.”

By meditating, we cease to allow problems in the world trouble us. We realise that the external, and the internal for that matter, are constantly changing, and that we are the one who observes from the Self. From the Soul. During my Vipassana, this became clear to me. The ever-fleeting, impermanent nature of the universe, referred to in Sanskrit as anicca. We move from the finite, where we’re entirely preoccupied in our own TV show, to the infinite, where we are able to pull back and see everything.

Put simply, when pondering the question, “Who am I?”, we notice that we are the answer. You are the answer to this question. This is a question that we should ask persistently and consistently if we wish to start the journey to awakening oneself.

I hope you enjoyed reading this first post reflecting on the book, *The Untethered Soul” by Michael Singer. It’s certainly not light stuff, but I hope that in sharing my reflections, I can start to make others think about some of these matters too. There will be at least one more post - likely more - discussing the rest of the book, where I’ll touch on the energy, freedom, self-transcendence, and living.