You think there’s one “you” reading this.
There isn’t.
Right now, one “I” is reading these words with curiosity. In five minutes, a different “I” will be annoyed by how slowly this article develops its point. This evening, another “I” will question whether any of this matters. Tomorrow morning, yet another “I” will have completely forgotten this article existed.
Each will believe it is “you.” Each will say “I want,” “I think,” “I decided.” Each will assume continuity with previous “I”s and make promises for future “I”s that won’t keep them.
This isn’t metaphor. This isn’t literary device. This is observational fact that most people never notice because they’ve never looked.
Gurdjieff called this polypsychism—many psyches, not one. The teaching that devastates most spiritual seekers because it means there’s no “you” to awaken. Just a rotating cast of mechanical responses, each briefly convinced it’s the permanent self.
The Illusion of Unity
You believe you’re a unified person. One consciousness. One will. One set of consistent values and intentions.
Test this.
Yesterday you decided to wake early and meditate. This morning you hit snooze without remembering that decision. Different “I” made the decision, different “I” broke it, neither consulted the other.
You value honesty. But in conversation, a different “I”—protecting ego, avoiding discomfort—lies smoothly without your “honest I” even noticing.
You commit to changing a habit. Days pass. You realize you haven’t thought about it once. The “I” that made the commitment disappeared, and the “I”s that followed had completely different concerns.
This isn’t weakness or lack of discipline. This is the structure of ordinary consciousness—a multiplicity of small “I”s, each appearing briefly, saying “I,” and disappearing, replaced by the next.
Gurdjieff described it precisely: “Man has no individual ‘I.’ But there are, instead, hundreds and thousands of separate small ‘I’s, very often entirely unknown to one another, never coming into contact, or, on the contrary, hostile to each other, mutually exclusive and incompatible.”
This is why:
- You contradict yourself constantly without noticing
- Yesterday’s certainties are today’s forgotten thoughts
- You make decisions you don’t keep
- You don’t understand your own behavior in retrospect
- “I don’t know what came over me”
What came over you was a different “I” taking control. You—the one reflecting on it now—weren’t there when it happened. You’re a different “I” trying to make sense of actions taken by “I”s you never met.
What Observes the Multiplicity
If there are many “I”s, what’s noticing this?
Right now, reading this, there’s awareness of thoughts arising. Awareness that certain reactions appear—skepticism, recognition, resistance. But that awareness isn’t another “I” in the rotation. It’s witnessing consciousness, what traditions call sākṣī (Vedanta) or presence or self-remembering (Fourth Way).
This is why self-observation practice matters. Not to improve the “I”s but to establish something that remains while “I”s rotate. Something that watches “I want coffee” arise, “I’m annoyed” appear, “I should be productive” take control, all without identifying with any of them.
Most people never develop this. They are completely identified with whichever “I” holds the stage at that moment. That “I” is the whole world. Its desires are absolute truth. Its reactions are justified. Its decisions are “mine.”
Then it vanishes, replaced by the next “I,” which believes exactly the same thing about itself.
No continuity. No unity. No real “I” that persists. Just mechanical rotation of small “I”s, each saying “I” while it’s present, none aware of the others.
This is anatman in Buddhism—no permanent self. Not as metaphysics but as observed fact. Look carefully at your own consciousness and you find no continuous “you,” just arising and passing phenomena, including the sense of “I” itself.
Vedanta makes the same distinction differently: the jīva (empirical self) is this multiplicity—ever-changing, composite, not really unified. The Ātman (true Self) is what witnesses the jīva’s changes without being touched by them. But ordinary consciousness never separates these, so it identifies the eternal witness with the changing multiplicity and creates the illusion of a unified person.
The Mechanical Democracy
Gurdjieff used a metaphor: the human organism is like a house with many servants but no master. Each servant thinks he’s in charge when he’s in the front room. Each gives orders. Each makes plans. None of them coordinate. None of them know what the others did or promised.
One servant decides the house will be cleaned. Goes away. Next servant has no knowledge of this decision and makes completely different plans. Third servant wonders why nothing ever gets done.
This is internal life for most people. Many small “I”s, each active briefly, each thinking it’s the master, none actually in control.
Watch this in yourself:
Morning “I”: Decides to eat healthy, exercise, work on important project.
Lunch “I”: Eats whatever’s convenient, forgotten the morning’s decision.
Afternoon “I”: Opens social media “just for a minute,” three hours disappear.
Evening “I”: Watches TV, vaguely guilty about lost day.
Night “I”: Makes resolutions for tomorrow, certain it will be different.
Next Morning “I”: Has no memory of these resolutions, starts cycle again.
Each believes it is “you.” Each makes promises. Each forgets immediately. None of them communicate. This is why willpower fails, habits don’t stick, intentions evaporate. You’re not trying to control one will—you’re trying to make hundreds of different “I”s cooperate, when most of them don’t know the others exist.
The Emotional “I”s
The multiplicity is most visible in emotional life.
One moment: “I love this person, I’ll always support them.”
Next moment (after minor offense): “I can’t believe they would do that, maybe this relationship isn’t right.”
Next moment (after apology): “Of course I forgive them, I was overreacting.”
Each emotional “I” is absolutely convinced while present. Each believes its emotional reaction is truth about reality rather than momentary state. And most people never notice the rotation, so they believe they have “feelings” rather than recognizing they have temporarily-activated emotional “I”s that arise and pass.
This is why you don’t trust your emotional reactions in the moment. Not because emotions are “bad” but because each emotional “I” believes it’s seeing reality when it’s only seeing its own mechanical response.
The angry “I” is certain the offense was intolerable. The guilty “I” is certain you’re terrible. The anxious “I” is certain disaster is coming. Each believes absolutely while present. Each disappears completely when replaced by the next.
The “I”s of Self-Image
Particularly persistent are the “I”s that maintain self-image.
“I’m spiritual” “I” appears when spiritual topics arise. Speaks knowledgeably, acts contemplative, identifies with wisdom teachings. Then a critical comment triggers defensive “I,” which responds with pure ego-reaction—no trace of “spirituality” remaining. Then spiritual “I” returns, explains the reaction philosophically, preserves the self-image.
“I’m honest” “I” maintains honesty in easy situations. Lies smoothly when honesty would be uncomfortable. Returns afterward to explain why that particular lie doesn’t count. Self-image preserved, contradiction never noticed.
“I’m disciplined” “I” makes plans and schedules. Distracted “I” ignores them completely. Self-critical “I” beats yourself up for lack of discipline. None of them notice they’re different “I”s blaming each other.
The multiplicity allows you to maintain contradictory self-images simultaneously because different “I”s hold different images and never meet. You can believe you’re generous while frequently acting selfishly, believe you’re aware while constantly mechanical, believe you’re changing while repeating identical patterns—because different “I”s maintain these beliefs and they never compare notes.
Why This Matters for Transformation
Here’s why understanding polypsychism changes everything:
1. There’s no “you” to improve. Self-improvement assumes a unified person who can decide to change and then change. But there’s no such person. There are hundreds of “I”s, most of whom aren’t aware that “you” decided to change and wouldn’t care if they were.
This is why self-improvement produces so little actual change. One “I” reads the book, gets inspired, makes resolution. Next day, completely different “I”s are active, none of whom care about that resolution. No change occurs because the “I”s that would need to change never heard about it.
2. Decisions don’t bind future “I”s. You decide to meditate daily. Tomorrow, different “I” encounters meditation time, has no connection to yesterday’s decision, does something else. The deciding “I” and the acting “I” are different “I”s with no continuity.
This is why willpower seems to fail. It’s not that your will is weak. It’s that there’s no continuous will. Just momentary impulses from different “I”s, none of whom are bound by the others’ decisions.
3. You can’t “remember” to do things. Because the “you” who needs to remember doesn’t exist continuously. One “I” sets reminder. Different “I” encounters the moment, has different concerns, the reminder doesn’t reach it.
This is why all systems of “remembering”—set intentions, leave notes, create triggers—work poorly. They assume continuity of consciousness. But there’s no continuity. Just different “I”s rotating through, most of whom never encounter the reminder.
4. The work is building something that persists. Not improving the “I”s. Building awareness that remains present while “I”s rotate. Witness consciousness. Self-remembering. Something that can see “anxious I” appear, “critical I” take over, “distracted I” pull attention away—without identifying with any of them.
This is a completely different work than trying to “improve yourself.” This is building something that most people don’t have—continuity of consciousness that persists across the rotation of “I”s.
Self-Observation Reveals the Multiplicity
The practice: Throughout one day, every time you notice the word “I” in your thoughts or speech, observe which “I” is speaking.
“I should exercise” – dutiful “I” “I’m too tired” – resistance “I”
“I’ll start Monday” – procrastinating “I” “I always fail” – self-critical “I” “This time will be different” – optimistic “I”
Watch them rotate. Notice they don’t consult each other. Notice each believes it’s “you.” Notice none of them maintain continuity with the others.
After one day of this observation, you cannot maintain the illusion of unity. You see directly: there are many “I”s, no master, just mechanical rotation.
This is devastating and liberating.
Devastating because the unified person you thought you were doesn’t exist. Every decision you thought “you” made was just a temporary “I” speaking, with no power to bind future “I”s.
Liberating because once you see this, you can stop trying to improve the “I”s and start building what actually persists—witnessing consciousness that remains while “I”s rotate.
The Development of Real “I”
Gurdjieff taught that the aim of work is developing what he called Real “I” or Master—unified consciousness that can actually direct the organism, that persists across time, that isn’t just another rotating “I” but something of different order entirely.
This isn’t natural development. Left to itself, consciousness remains multiple and mechanical. Real “I” must be built through sustained work:
Self-remembering: Maintaining presence that witnesses the rotation of “I”s without identifying with any of them. Not trying to control which “I”s appear but remaining aware that “I”s are appearing.
Non-identification: When angry “I” appears, not being angry “I” but being awareness that notices anger-pattern activating. When desire arises, not being the desire but witnessing desire-pattern taking hold. This creates space between awareness and mechanical “I”s.
Conscious suffering: When friction arises, not being the suffering “I” (which expresses, complains, seeks sympathy) but maintaining presence through difficulty without mechanical reaction. This forges continuity across situations where mechanical “I”s would fragment.
Working on aim: Establishing something that persists across all “I”s—a direction or intention that remains regardless of which “I” is currently active. This creates thread of continuity where none existed.
After years of this work, something begins to crystallize. Not an “improved I” but Real “I”—consciousness that persists, that can direct rather than being carried by whichever mechanical “I” is currently active, that maintains continuity across time.
Most people never develop this. They remain a shifting multiplicity their entire lives, never noticing they’re not one person.
The Traditional Understanding
This isn’t unique to Gurdjieff. Traditional teachings recognized the multiplicity clearly:
Buddhism: Anatman (no-self) isn’t philosophical position but observed fact. Look carefully: where is the continuous self? You find only arising and passing phenomena—thoughts, sensations, emotions, mental formations. Each moment of “I am” is new arising, not continuation of previous one. The illusion of continuity is memory and narrative overlaid on discontinuous arisings.
Vedanta: The jīva is composite, changing, multiple. What seems like unified person is really collection of guṇas (qualities), vāsanās (tendencies), saṃskāras (impressions) rotating according to conditions. Only the Ātman (witness) is truly continuous, but most people never distinguish the witness from the witnessed.
Plotinus: The soul is not simple but composite, with many parts that often conflict. What seems like unified will is really competing impulses, each claiming to be “I” when dominant. Real unity must be achieved through philosophy (contemplation) that raises consciousness above the multiplicity to the nous.
Sufi teaching: The nafs (ego-self) is not one thing but many selves, most of them mechanical and destructive. The work is dying to these multiple false selves to reach the true Self that was always present but obscured by the multiplicity.
All recognized: ordinary consciousness is not unified. What seems like one person is many mechanical responses, each briefly active, none truly continuous.
What This Changes
Once you see the multiplicity directly—not as concept but as observed fact in your own consciousness—everything changes:
You stop trusting thoughts. That urgent thought isn’t “you” thinking—it’s a temporary “I” speaking. It will pass, replaced by different “I” with completely different thoughts. Why treat it as truth?
You stop trusting emotions. That strong feeling isn’t perception of reality—it’s an emotional “I” temporarily active. It will vanish, replaced by different emotional “I.” Why take it as information about the world rather than temporary activation of pattern?
You stop making promises. The “I” making the promise won’t be there to keep it. Different “I” will encounter that situation, with different concerns, no memory of the promise. Why lie to yourself and others?
You stop believing your story. The narrative of “who I am” is maintained by many “I”s, each contributing different parts, none of them consistent. The story is fiction maintained by multiplicity, not truth about unified person.
You start building continuity. Through practice. Daily. Building witness consciousness that remains present while “I”s rotate. This is the actual work, not improving the “I”s.
The Practice
Here’s what you do with this understanding:
1. Observe the rotation. Throughout the day, notice when different “I”s are active. Not judging them, just seeing them. “Anxious I” appeared. “Critical I” is speaking. “Distracted I” pulled attention away. Just observe.
2. Don’t identify with any of them. When angry “I” appears, don’t be it. Be the awareness noticing anger-pattern activating. When desire arises, don’t be the desire. Be awareness watching desire arise. This creates space.
3. Notice transitions. The moment when one “I” disappears and another takes over. That gap—however brief—is where witnessing consciousness can be established. Not caught in either “I” but present in the transition.
4. Stop making promises you won’t keep. Recognize that the “I” promising won’t be there later. If you must make commitment, establish external structure that doesn’t depend on internal continuity—calendar reminders, accountability to others, physical systems that work regardless of which “I” is active.
5. Build daily practice. Something you do every day, same time, same way, regardless of which “I”s are active. Not because you want to or it feels right but because establishing this continuity across all “I”s begins to forge something that persists.
After months of this, you begin to notice: there’s something that remains present across different “I”s. Not another “I” but awareness itself. This is what develops. This is what can eventually direct the multiplicity rather than being carried by it.
The Uncomfortable Recognition
Most spiritual seekers won’t do this work because it requires giving up the central illusion: that there’s a “you” who will awaken.
There isn’t.
There are many mechanical “I”s and the possibility of building something real through sustained work. But the “you” who wants awakening—that’s just another temporary “I,” which will vanish soon, replaced by “I”s that don’t care about awakening at all.
This is why reading about awakening changes nothing. One “I” reads, gets inspired, “decides” to practice. Next day, different “I”s active, none of whom care. No practice occurs.
This is why weekend retreats produce temporary experiences. Retreat conditions activate certain “I”s. Home conditions activate completely different “I”s. No continuity between them. Experience vanishes.
This is why years of spiritual practice can produce sophisticated knowledge with zero transformation. Many “I”s learning spiritual concepts, none of them actually practicing, no Real “I” being built.
The work requires recognizing this completely. Not as theory but as observed fact. Then beginning the unglamorous daily practice of building continuity where none exists naturally.
Most won’t do it. It’s easier to believe you’re a unified person who just needs the right technique or teaching. Easier to collect experiences and call it growth. Easier to remain multiple and mechanical while believing you’re progressing.
But for those who see the multiplicity directly and recognize what this means—there’s actual work available. Not improving the “I”s. Building something real.
TL;DR: You’re not one person. You’re hundreds of small “I”s rotating mechanically, each briefly saying “I” before vanishing. This is observable fact, not theory. This is why decisions don’t stick, habits fail, contradictions go unnoticed—different “I”s made the decision and encountered the situation, with no continuity between them. The work isn’t improving the “I”s but building witness consciousness that remains present while “I”s rotate. This requires daily practice over years. Most people remain multiple and mechanical their entire lives, never noticing they’re not unified.