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Here is a smoother paraphrase that preserves the nondual/Vedantic meaning and devotional tone of the original:
Nisargadatta Maharaj’s statement points to essentially the same truth that Ramana Maharshi expressed through neti-neti—“not this, not this.”
The mind can only understand things through a subject-object framework. It can observe, compare, name, and describe objects, experiences, thoughts, and feelings. But the Self—the nondual Reality—can never become an object of the mind’s observation. The mind therefore cannot tell us what we ultimately are; it can only help us see what we are not.
This is why both Nisargadatta and Ramana directed seekers to remove identification with everything that is not the Self.
Ramana Maharshi encouraged the question, “Who am I?” By investigating deeply, we begin to see that we cannot ultimately be the body, thoughts, emotions, moods, desires, memories, or personality, because all of these are constantly changing. Yet something is aware of all these changes. That unchanging Awareness is what the seeker is being directed toward.
Nisargadatta approached the same truth from the opposite direction. Rather than continually asking what we are not, he emphasized remaining with the most fundamental fact of experience: “I Am.” His teaching was to hold firmly to the sense of being and not become absorbed in all the changing phenomena that arise within consciousness.
Thus, when Nisargadatta says that, at the level of the mind, we can be described only in negative terms, he is pointing out the inadequacy of every mental definition of the Self. Whatever the mind can describe is something appearing within awareness—and therefore cannot be the ultimate “I.”
The essential practice, then, is not to believe every thought that arises or to identify ourselves with every emotion, desire, memory, or story the mind produces. Instead, we learn to recognize them as passing appearances and return again and again to the fundamental awareness of “I Am.”
The challenge is whether we can remain faithful to that recognition without continually being pulled back into identification with the changing contents of the mind.
Nisargadatta's own life is often presented as an extraordinary example of this kind of one-pointed determination. After receiving his guru's instruction, he devoted himself intensely to the recognition of his true nature, refusing to allow ordinary thoughts, desires, fears, and circumstances to become his ultimate identity.
The goal was not merely to replace one belief with another, but to allow the false sense of a separate, limited self to dissolve through persistent inquiry and recognition.
Ultimately, “I Am That” is not meant to become another concept for the mind to cling to. It is a pointer toward the discovery that our true nature cannot be confined by any description.
You are That—and That cannot ultimately be reduced to a thought, a name, a body, a personality, or anything else that appears and disappears. 💜🙏
If you want, I can also make this more powerful and spiritually poetic, while keeping the meaning faithful to Ramana and Nisargadatta.
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Yes. The passage you shared is pointing toward a genuine commonality between Ramana Maharshi and Nisargadatta Maharaj, but it also blends together a few teachings that are worth separating.
What Nisargadatta means by “negative terms”
When Nisargadatta says that, on the level of the mind, you can be described only negatively, he is essentially pointing out:
Whatever the mind can objectify cannot be the ultimate Self.
If you can say:
“I am the body” — the body is something you can observe.
“I am my thoughts” — thoughts appear and disappear.
“I am my emotions” — emotions change.
“I am my personality” — personality develops and changes.
“I am the witness” — even the idea “I am the witness” is still an idea appearing in awareness.
So the mind keeps trying to turn the Self into something it can know as an object. Nisargadatta's point is that the Self is not an object within awareness.
This is close to the logic of neti neti — “not this, not this.”
But there is an important correction
I would not interpret Nisargadatta as saying that every thought and feeling is simply “untrue.”
A thought such as “I need to eat” can be perfectly useful at the ordinary level. What is being questioned is the thought:
“This changing body-mind is what I ultimately am.”
Likewise, rejecting every thought compulsively can itself become another form of mental activity.
The deeper movement is not:
“I must fight and destroy every thought.”
It is more like:
“A thought has appeared. I see it. I do not mistake it for what I am.”
That distinction is important.
Ramana and Nisargadatta approach the same mountain differently
Ramana's characteristic question is:
“Who am I?”
Instead of answering intellectually, one traces the sense of “I” back toward its source.
Nisargadatta often uses the simpler experiential conviction:
“I Am.”
Before you say I am a man, I am a woman, I am happy, I am unhappy, I am this body, I am this personality, there is simply the undeniable sense:
I AM.
Nisargadatta then asks you to remain with that fundamental sense of being rather than adding concepts to it.
And eventually even “I am” itself is transcended.
That last point is crucial. In Nisargadatta's teaching, “I am Brahman” is not necessarily the final conceptual conclusion. Brahman cannot ultimately be captured by the sentence “I am Brahman.” The sentence is a pointer.
The beautiful paradox
The mind asks:
“What am I?”
And every answer it produces is another object.
So eventually the investigation reaches a point where there is nothing more to describe.
Not:
“I have finally discovered a special object called the Self.”
But rather:
There is awareness, but no separate object called “me” that can be found within it.
That is why Nisargadatta can use seemingly contradictory expressions such as “I am That” and, at the same time, say that the true Self cannot be described.
The first statement is a pointer.
The second prevents you from turning the pointer into another concept.
One subtle point about “rejecting the world”
I would also be cautious about interpreting realization as literally abandoning one's family, responsibilities, or ordinary life.
Nisargadatta himself lived as a householder before and after his realization. The essential renunciation in this teaching is identification, not necessarily physical abandonment.
You can continue to:
work,
love your family,
eat,
talk,
experience pleasure and pain,
while investigating whether you are only the changing person who performs those activities.
In that sense, “giving up the world” means giving up the mistaken belief that the world and its changing contents constitute your ultimate identity.
And there is a very Ramana-like simplicity to the whole thing:
Whatever appears can be observed.
Whatever can be observed is not the ultimate observer.
So instead of endlessly searching among appearances, turn toward the one who is aware.
The moment you try to make that awareness into something you can see, however, you've turned it into another object—and the inquiry starts again.
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