I Am Ready to Know

 

---

I Am Ready to Know

For as long as I can remember, I have been telling myself this very thing: to know my true self is the most crucial and fundamental issue in my life.

Long before I discovered J. Krishnamurti, Alan Watts, Sri Ramana Maharshi, Nisargadatta Maharaj, Mooji, or Ram Dass—before I even set foot in the United States—I had already stumbled upon this realization. It came without guidance from teachers or books, just a deep inner urge. A gnawing sense that there is something beyond the physical and the mental. A deeper truth demanding to be uncovered.

Then came the years in America—twenty-one of them—years I now often refer to as my time as a “happy-go-lucky idiot.” I drifted through life, indulging in distractions, sinking into moral and spiritual lows. Only later did I come across these great teachers. Their words helped me understand what I had always been seeking. These were my gurus—silent companions guiding me back toward myself.

And here I am now, at 72, still seeking. Still peeling back the layers. Still waiting for the final unveiling. The sands in the hourglass are thinning. And still, the truth lies just beyond the veil. Have I wasted my life chasing illusions? Have I fooled myself into believing in something my mind has constructed?

But no—this is not about what happens after death. The real question is: Who am I while I am still here? What is this experience of life? This unfolding of thoughts, emotions, dreams, and memories? Who is this “I” that clings to them all?

"I am ready to know!" I declare it now more urgently than ever. I am ready to shatter this illusion, to awaken to the Real—the Truth—what lies beyond body and mind. I begin to understand what the Buddha saw when he said that life is suffering and that the “self” who suffers is, in fact, an illusion. But how to dissolve this illusion? How to drop the notion of “I,” “me,” and “mine”?

Some days I feel weary of the whole search. It seems futile—this endless asking. Perhaps the best I can do now is simply live, quietly and truthfully, until it’s time to go. No more mountains to climb, no rivers left to cross. The body weakens, the mind tires. Pain comes more often now. Then leaves. Then returns. The story of aging continues.

And yet, suicide is not an option. Not from fear, but from gratitude. I still have food to eat, a roof overhead, and those who love me. To walk away now would betray all that I’ve been given. So I live on. Not from duty, but reverence.

But still I ask: How do I rebound? How do I lift myself again, find that spark, that purpose, that creative life I once knew?

If nothing else, I must prepare for my final journey. Not with fear, but with awareness. I want to leave as I came—open, curious, unafraid. I have walked through fire, lived in shadows, and in light. I have been both the fool and the sage. And I accept all of it.

There is only One Witness to all this: my Creator—Allah Subhana Hu Wata’ala—Al-Haq, the Truth. From Him I came, and to Him I shall return.

Whether I name this journey self-realization, awakening, surrender, or prayer, it has always been about moving closer to Him. To Truth. To the mystery that breathes me.

So I will keep asking. Keep listening. Keep watching the clouds pass over the moon.

Until the Fat Lady sings the blues.

Because the asking itself… is sacred.