The 'Who am I' question of Advaita

The "Who am I?" inquiry is an old one. It was posed by Zoraster. It is a central question in the Vedas. Jesus  discussed it with Thomas. It is a question asked by Carl Jaspers. Postmodern thinkers have written lengthy diatribes upon it. And of course the "Who Am I" question is used by those who believe themselves heirs to Ramana Maharshi and the rather odd western view of Advaita. Yet it seems to me that the method or asking oneself who one is, is in most (but not all) cases an intensification rather than diminution of ego. It is a means of grasping, rather than of letting go. Seeking the "I" or the source of the "I" usually intensifies the idea of personhood.

This is because self-investigation always finds more "self" to uncover and to expose. There is no end to it. Dressing the exercise up in poetic hyperbole such as "following the question to its source" or "identifying habits' or "plunging ever more deeply into the Self" is just a way of re-framing what is sadly little more than another form of malignant narcissism as if it were something 'spiritual'.

Further, what most are seeking to accomplish by the exercise of asking "who am I" is  an idea. The idea that there is something called enlightenment and that should be prevail and find it, they will at last be happy and at peace. In essence the idea proposes that in exchange for the hard work of chanting or meditating or asking "who am I" one can purchase a little more heaven. This is a type of spiritual capitalism, something which naturally appeals to those immersed in most exchange based societies.

Hence it seems to me (just my opinion) that Ramana Maharshi gave this exercise to some people only by way of introduction. Not meant as something to continue without his direct guidance.

Consider:

One day a young monk on his journey home came to the banks of a wide river.
Staring hopelessly at the rapidly moving water, he hesitated to cross.
Suddenly he spied a stranger on the other side of the river.
The monk shouted across to the stranger: "Can you tell me how to get to the other side of this river"?
The stranger shouted back: "You are already on the other side".

In other words, we seek what we only imagine we have lost. And in our imagining believe we must ask "who am I' of ourselves in order to find the other side of the river. And so neglect to notice what is already here. But - and it is a big but (haha) - it requires attention to notice what is already here. And that in turn requires effort. Real, sustained effort for as long as it takes, years or decades, to even begin to notice what is already here. We do not notice that we are on the other side of the river, even when it is pointed out to us, without considerable preparation. The unripened fruit does not fall from the tree.