Note. This is a machine-assisted translation of a Chinese original. Where wording matters, please consult the Chinese original.

Tianwen · II · Who am I?

Who am I?

This is supposedly the most central of the three ultimate questions of humanity. Many people have probably thought about it; for me, it began to trouble me in high school.

Why did I start to think about "Who am I?" Because at that time I particularly wanted to know — who, exactly, would truly love "me as a person"?

In high school I was studying away from home on my own. There was a teacher who was very kind to me and had high expectations. Back then I felt that this teacher truly liked me. But after I lost in a competition, I could feel his attitude shift, and it hurt. Because I realised that the teacher might not in fact have liked "me" — he had only liked the fact that I did well in my studies. He did not like me for who I was as a person.

How I longed for him to truly like "me as a person", and not merely because of my grades. It is the same thought many girls have: I hope to find someone who likes me for who I am, not for my looks, my family background, or any of those external things.

But to find someone who really likes "me as a person", I first have to figure out — what exactly is "me as a person"? Once that is found, the rest is simple: I lay "me" out in front of you, and whether you like what you see or not, as long as what you like or dislike is "me as a person" rather than my external accessories, that is enough.

So who exactly am I? What kind of thing is "me as a person"?

I thought about it carefully and found it troublesome. The reasons why people liked me all seemed to come down to external things: either my good grades, or my mild and obedient temperament. No one seemed to truly like "me as a person". I figured that the day my grades slipped, or I stopped being so obedient, they would probably stop liking me.

Parents seemed to be the one exception. I trusted that no matter how my grades turned out, no matter how obedient I was, they would still love me.

But thinking about it more carefully — what they love is also not "me as a person" in itself. Every parent loves their child this way. They love me because I am their son: they love the role, not the person.

I longed to find a kind of love that was utterly pure — a love directed at me as a person, not at any of my external attributes.

But everyone who liked me liked something on the outside. How could I find someone who really loved "me as a person"?

The method seemed simple: I would just throw away all the things that other people liked. Good grades — gone. Good temper — gone. After I had thrown away all the external things, if there was still someone who liked me, then surely what they liked would be "me as a person" itself.

So I began my miserable experiment. The result, of course, was disappointing. I searched for a long time and never found "me as a person". I still did not know who I was. The question "Who am I?" stayed buried deep in my heart.

Years later, by chance, when I heard the four characters "all phenomena are without self", I suddenly understood — why I had searched so long and never found "me as a person".

Because there was a possibility I had not considered: that he simply does not exist.

When we ask "Who am I?", we take a premise for granted with no shadow of doubt: "I" exist; and only then do we go on to ask who "I" am. But suddenly there is another possibility — the premise itself does not hold. It is possible that "I" do not exist.

If "I" do not exist, then of course I will never find him.

By the same reasoning, if "I" do not exist, then "you" do not exist either; and the sun, moon and stars, the mountains and rivers, the grass and trees of this world all do not exist. Since they do not exist, there is naturally no need for a God to create them.

But if "I" and "you" and all the myriad things in the world do not really exist, then what about the you and the I standing here, the sun and moon and stars and mountains and rivers we see, all of this we can see and hear and feel — what is it?