Letters

On “I”

A letter on freedom, self, and wanting everything.

One day, you will be tempted to make everything about yourself.

Your name. Your body. Your work. Your reputation. Your wins. Your wounds. Your story. These things will feel like you. They are not nothing, but they are not the whole truth of what you are.

There are two ways to look at life.

In relative truth, life must be lived. Hunger matters. Money matters. Health matters. Trust matters. Your word matters. Your work matters. The people depending on you matter. Consequences still arrive.

In absolute truth, everything changes, nothing can be possessed, and even the self you defend so fiercely is a series of passing processes you keep mistaking for “I”.

So learn to see from the absolute view, and act in the relative one.

See beyond the world. Live carefully inside it.

The absolute view should free you from clinging. It should not make you careless. If “nothing matters” makes you lazy, cruel, vague, or useless, you have misunderstood it.

If you want everything, remember this: the “I” that wants everything is the thing that turns life into lack.

This is not a command to hate yourself, erase yourself, or become passive. It is an invitation to look closely at the thing you keep calling “I”. The more tightly you defend it, the more easily life can wound it. The more lightly you hold it, the more freely life can move through you.

You will still need a name, a body, a mind, a family, a trade, a reputation, and duties. These belong to the relative world. Treat them carefully. But do not mistake them for the whole truth.

When the “I” loosens, life becomes less cramped. Praise can arrive without becoming food. Blame can arrive without becoming death. Work can be done without needing to become a monument. Love can be given without needing to be owned.

That is one road towards anatta: not the denial of effort, but the gradual disappearance of self from the work.

One day, you may find the artefacts of my journey and form opinions of your own. They will not be the truth. They will be another view, shaped by where you are standing, what you need, what you fear, and what you are ready to see. But they may still keep you company.

I am not fully there. Be honest about that tension. Do not pretend ego is absent just because the language is noble.

Live in the world. Serve what is in front of you. Love without needing possession. Let the self become lighter. If you want everything, stop needing to own it.

Notes

Relative truth means the ordinary world of people, choices, duties, money, health, reputation, work, cause and effect, and consequence.

Absolute truth points to the deeper view: impermanence, non-self, unsatisfactoriness, and the unreliability of anything we try to possess.

This letter uses everyday examples because life has to be lived in relative truth. The point is not to deny the world. It is to move through it without being owned by it.

Samsara is drawn from the Buddhist teaching of the cycle of craving, dissatisfaction, and becoming. Here, it means life lived through material attachment: the world of wanting, owning, status, praise, control, wealth, fear, and the need to remain important.

Anatta is the Buddhist teaching of non-self. In this letter, it points towards building and living without needing life to constantly announce the self.

Mettā means loving-kindness, goodwill, and disciplined care for living beings.