The word has two letters.
One consonant, one vowel.
It is such a simple utterance, "me".
Yet, I challenge you to define it!
"The objective case of I"
I know, I know--
But we both know that's not what I mean.
That just begs the question:
What is "I"?
What is meant by this simple symbol?
I am complicated.
That much is obvious.
Some say I am an organic machine.
With cells instead of transistors
Organs instead of gears.
Governed by my programming.
And nothing more.
They say "There is no ghost in the machine"
They mean that I am spiritless, and entirely material.
Some say I am 5 senses.
That within my being
Is the recipe for reality
And that these senses create everything I think to be true.
This may seem strange to me but I do this
every time I dream.
In a dream "Perception" and "Reality" are identical in meaning.
Perhaps we live in our own dream.
They say I am in this sense a "soul"
And nothing more.
Some say a great being.
A center of consciousness of some kind.
Perceived space and time.
Quarks, The universe, love....
And we are the living dream of that great soul.
Whose will encompasses everything.
And who moves a galaxy,
In the same exact way you or I would arch our backs,
or wiggle a finger.
That it's will directly controls it.
Some say we are part of that infinite will, that that being controls us.
And for them I is nothing more than a part of the great "I"
That perceives the universe.
Some say that this great being perceives beings that perceive.
And that these beings manipulate
the reality that the great being is perceiving.
They call this "Free will"
Some say nothing at all, and dig ditches till they die.
What am I?
What is real?
Why am I?
Then again, I've put a great deal of thought
Into this question.
I have only hunches and hopes.
However I answer the question
I am only partly right,
There's always more truth.
"I am a person"
"I am a man"
"I work in a school"
"I wake up late sometimes"
I can make statements for all eternity
And it will never describe the fullness,
And the mind-boggling connectedness
that composes the fabric of what I am.
I will never,
no matter how eloquent, logical or intuitive I become;
no matter how many books I read on the subject;
no matter how much time I spend thinking and discussing;
be able to define this very complicated two letter word
with one consonant and one vowel: