The only thing you will ever need in life to be happy is?

Awareness of the self.

That could be the end of the article, but let me explain—because the mind will immediately object:

• “What about love?”

• “What about money?”

• “What about purpose, health, success, pleasure, peace?”

All of those matter. But none of them can stabilize you if you don’t know who the “you” is that’s trying to acquire them.

True happiness stems not from perfect external circumstances but from a well-aligned inner self. Understanding your true identity is key.. It’s the result of being correctly oriented inside yourself.

And that orientation begins with one question most people avoid because it’s too quiet, too honest, and too inconvenient:

Who am I?

The Question That Decides the Quality of Your Life

Without self-inquiry, life may offer excitement and comfort, but these experiences remain unpredictable and fragile. True stability comes from knowing oneself.

Because without self-awareness, you live as if you are:

• your moods,

• your thoughts,

• your reputation,

• your cravings,

• your past,

• your bank balance,

• your body’s condition,

• or your current relationship status.

Living without self-awareness is akin to navigating a ship by the waves rather than a compass, leading to an unstable journey.

You can’t expect lasting joy when your identity is outsourced to circumstances.

Where This Began for Me

I grew up in a poor neighborhood in the western suburbs of Sydney, Australia. In the 70s, we had four TV channels, a few radio stations, some toys—and our imaginations.

We made our own fun.

What we didn’t have was guidance. Not on the big questions. Not on meaning, consciousness, purpose, or the interior life. We had very few role models for anything beyond survival and social performance.

But we did have something rare today:

time… and very few distractions.

And in the background of that simplicity, the deeper questions eventually rise—because they always do.

Astronomy Planted the Seed

When I turned 15, I got into astronomy.

Something about staring into the vastness changes you. You can’t look at a sky like that and keep pretending life is only about school, status, and fitting in.

You start wondering:

• What am I, really?

• What is this world?

• Why am I conscious?

• What is awareness made of?

• And who is the one doing the observing?

The seed was planted then.

But I didn’t get any kind of direct answer until I was 18—through an experience that turned the question from philosophy into something visceral.

The Experience That Made the Question Real

At 18, I had an out-of-body experience while experimenting with astral projection.

I had learned a technique: using breath and attention to keep the mind awake while the body fell asleep. I monitored my heartbeat and focused it into different parts of my body—finger, wrist, shoulder, toes, ankle—moving attention like a slow spotlight.

What it did was simple but powerful:

• the body relaxed toward sleep,

• while awareness stayed alert.

At a certain point, the physical system began drifting into sleep mode… but consciousness didn’t go with it.

Then it happened.

A high ringing sound—like my awareness was tuning to another frequency. And suddenly I was witnessing my astral (dream) body separating from my physical body, which was lying on the bed beneath me.

It felt like I was leaving the planet.

Terrified and elated at the same time, I had two thoughts that were more like primal flashes:

• “Will I come back?”

• “Can I come back?”

And then I heard something else—something that made the moment undeniable:

A voice said: “Look at him, he thinks he is good.”

I wasn’t alone.

Panic surged through me, and instantly I snapped back into my body.

Why That Changed Everything

That experience—and others that followed—didn’t give me a neat explanation of reality.

But it did something more important:

It shattered the assumption that I am only this body.

It introduced a distinction I could no longer ignore:

• The body is an instrument.

• The mind is a tool.

• And awareness is the one using them.

You can call it consciousness. You can call it the soul. You can call it the witness.

But once you’ve tasted—even briefly—the feeling that you exist beyond the “meat suit,” you can’t go back to living like your identity is merely flesh, history, and social labeling.

That moment pushed me into a lifelong pursuit.

From Monkhood to a Lifetime of Research

Soon after, I spent the next 15 years as a celibate monk, and then the last 30 years continuing this investigation in different forms—study, discipline, service, spiritual practice, contemplation, and direct experimentation with inner states.

The goal wasn’t to accumulate beliefs.

It was to answer the question in the only way that matters:

by becoming it.

Because “Who am I?” isn’t solved like a math problem. It’s solved like a mirror clearing.

The Problem With Living Only for the Body

Most people are incredibly busy maintaining the body and feeding the personality.

They’re not wrong to care for the body—this vehicle matters.

But the tragedy is living your entire life as if the vehicle is the driver.

Failing to explore your deeper identity leads to a lifetime of seeking happiness in fleeting objects and achievements, which can never truly satisfy.

You’ll keep trying to extract permanence from temporary things.

And even when you succeed, you’ll feel the shadow behind it:

“Is this it?”

This is why so many “successful” people still feel restless, anxious, or strangely empty. Not because they failed at life, but because they succeeded at the wrong target.

Why This Matters So Much

Human life is a rare kind of opportunity—not because we’re the smartest animal, but because we have the capacity to self-reflect.

A dog can be joyful, yes.

But a human can ask:

• What is joy?

• Who is experiencing it?

• What remains when everything changes?

• What is the “I” behind every moment?

This capacity is a gift.

Neglecting this capacity for self-reflection means missing the fundamental purpose of human existence.

A Simple Practice to Begin (No Beliefs Required)

If this resonates even a little, start gently. Don’t force it. Don’t make it dramatic.

The next time you’re in front of a mirror, pause.

Look into your own eyes—not at your hair, your age, your flaws, your story.

Look behind the story.

And consider this:

There is something looking out through those eyes.

Your body has changed since you were five years old. Your mind has changed. Your roles have changed.

But the feeling of being you—the silent presence behind it all—has a strange continuity.

That presence is what you are looking for.

Not as an idea.

As a direct recognition.

The Quiet Conclusion

So yes—the only thing you will ever need in life to be happy is awareness of self.

Because when you know who you are:

• life doesn’t have to be perfect for you to be steady,

• loss doesn’t erase you,

• praise doesn’t inflate you,

• fear doesn’t run the show,

• and success becomes something you can enjoy without being owned by it.

Everything else in life becomes richer and cleaner when the “I” is rooted in something deeper than circumstance.

And the doorway is always the same:

Who am I—really?

To learn more, check out my books