Presence, or the bare sense of “I Am,” sits at the very heart of Maharaj’s teaching. Behind every fleeting thought, emotion or identity label lies this silent, indivisible sense of existence. Not tied to name, nationality or profession, it’s the timeless “I Am” that simply is—unborn, unchanging and self-luminous.

In I Am That, the distinction between the personal “I”—the bundle of memories, beliefs and desires—and the absolute “I Am” gets underscored again and again. The personal self operates like a social media profile, endlessly curating an image for approval. By contrast, the true Self is beyond approval or disapproval, untouched by the applause or criticism of the outside world. Stripping away every mental label—body, mind and ego—reveals this core awareness, shining with its own light.

These teachings feel surprisingly timely in an age of TikTok soundbites and AI-generated personas. While algorithms try to pin down what “you” are into neat packages, Maharaj invites dropping every digital disguise. Direct inquiry—“Who is it that experiences?”—becomes the royal road to recognizing that this “I Am” is a field of boundless consciousness, not a tiny island of thought.

Comparisons arise with modern neuroscience pointing to awareness as more than neural firings—suggesting mind and consciousness are not fully explained by brain activity. In the same breath, Maharaj would gently remind that any description is still an object in awareness, and awareness itself defies all attempts at capture.

The real work, then, lies in turning attention inward, peeling back identifications like layers of an onion, until only the pure sense of being remains. That unshakable “I Am” proves itself in every moment, freeing anyone who notices it from the restless search for identity—and revealing the self that’s been present all along.