The Practices

Inquiry  ·  “You Are Not Your Thoughts”

The Floating Man

By imaginatively suspending all sensation, notice the bare awareness of one’s own existence that remains — self-knowing prior to and independent of any object.

Advanced A short guided thought-experiment of 10–20 minutes; can be revisited briefly any time Islamic Philosophy / Sufi-Influenced Contemplation
Avicenna’s Floating Man in brief: Imagine yourself newly created and floating in still air, then withdraw every sense — no sight, sound, smell, taste, or touch, not even the feel of your own limbs. With no contents to hold, ask: is anything still affirming “I am”? Notice the bare, wordless awareness-of-being that remains, needing no object to be present. Then let sensation return, and note it was there underneath all along.

Avicenna’s “Floating Man” (also called the “Flying Man” or the “man suspended in air”) is among the most famous thought-experiments in philosophy. He asks you to imagine a person “created at a stroke, fully developed and perfectly formed, but with his vision shrouded from perceiving all external objects — created floating in the air or in space, not buffeted by any perceptible current of air, his limbs separated and kept out of contact with one another, so that they do not feel each other.” Stripped of every sensation — nothing seen, heard, smelled, touched, no feeling even of one’s own body — the question is: would such a person still affirm that he exists? Avicenna’s answer is yes: he would affirm “his own existence, although not affirming the reality of any of his limbs… or any external thing.” Avicenna deployed this as an argument (that the self-aware soul is immaterial).

But beneath the argument lies a repeatable contemplative move: by imaginatively suspending all sensation, you can notice for yourself the bare awareness of being that does not depend on any object of awareness — what later traditions call knowledge “by presence.” Rendered here as a practice, the point is the noticing, not the proof.

A faithful operationalisation of Avicenna’s set-up, done as a guided imaginative inquiry:

  1. Settle and let the body be still. Sit or lie comfortably. A few slow breaths. You will not be straining for anything — just looking.
  2. Imagine the suspension, sense by sense. Following Avicenna, picture yourself newly created, floating in still air. Now withdraw each sense in turn: vision veiled (no sight), no sound, no smell or taste, and — the hardest — no feeling of touch, your limbs not even sensing each other or the air. Let the felt sense of the body recede in imagination.
  3. Drop the contents. With sensation imaginatively suspended, there are no objects to be aware of — no scene, no sound, no body-map. Notice that the mind reaches for content and finds none to anchor to.
  4. Ask Avicenna’s question. In that contentless condition, ask plainly: Is there still the affirming of “I am”? Is anything registering existing right now? Don’t answer from theory — look.
  5. Notice what remains. What Avicenna points to is that something still affirms its own being — a bare awareness-of-existing that does not require any object, body, or sensation to be present. Rest attention lightly on that: not on a thought “I exist,” but on the wordless fact of awareness being present to itself.
  6. Return and re-ground. Let sensation flow back. Feel the body, the breath, the room. Note that the bare awareness you touched was there the whole time, underneath the contents — Avicenna’s point is that it was never built out of them. (Sourcing note: the suspended-in-air set-up, the stripping of every sense, and the conclusion that one still affirms one’s own existence are Avicenna’s, from the Floating Man passages of the Isharat (and the Shifāʾ); turning his argument into a first-person inquiry is a faithful operational rendering, not a claim that Avicenna prescribed it as a meditation.)

Avicenna (Ibn Sīnā, c.980–1037) introduced the Floating Man to argue that the soul knows itself immediately, without the body or the senses — that self-awareness is primary and immaterial. It appears in his Kitāb al-Shifāʾ and again, in the form used here, in the Isharat.

The argument was taken up and debated by Suhrawardī (who built his “knowledge by presence,” al-ʿilm al-ḥuḍūrī, partly on it) and Mullā Ṣadrā, and it anticipates by six centuries the introspective certainty of Descartes’ cogito.

Treating it as a debate to win. The practice is not “prove the soul is immaterial”; it is notice the bare awareness. Skip the argument and look.

  • Generating a thought instead of noticing. Manufacturing the sentence “I exist” is not it; the point is the wordless registering of being aware, prior to the sentence.
  • Forcing the sensory shut-off. You cannot literally abolish sensation; you imaginatively withdraw from it and look at what is still present underneath. Gentleness, not strain.
  • Grasping at “the witness” as an object. Awareness can’t be turned into a thing you hold; relax the search and let it be the simple background that is already here.
  • Skipping the re-grounding. Always let sensation and body-feeling return at the end.