Welcome to a series of podcasts based upon the teachings of Russell A. Smith, a man who discovered an objective and accelerated way of awakening our innate higher consciousness, the seats of conscience, pure reason, and impartiality. Russell’s work expands upon the Fourth Way teachings of George I. Gurdjieff and deciphers much of what Gurdjieff left behind.

In this episode, we bring you a direct recording of Russell himself teaching the transformative I Am, I Can, I Wish exercise. Through his own words, Russell vividly illustrates the interplay of three vital aspects of our being: knowledge, ability, and emotional power. By exploring the metaphors of the driver, the carriage, and the horse, Russell guides us on how to align these elements into a harmonious whole, offering a pathway to deeper self-awareness and a life of greater presence.

We will cover the exercise for the week, which would be the I Am, I Can, I Wish. Which is a great exercise, kind of in a line of what we've already been talking about, the threefold attention and bringing ourselves to presence. With this concept of the three parts of ourselves represented by the words I Am, I Can, I Wish.

The I Am is the driver of the carriage. The I Can is the carriage itself, and the I Wish is the horse, the power behind it. Knowledge is in the driver, ability is in the carriage, and power is in the horse.

So when a man says these three words, I Am, I Can, I Wish, as he says each one, he's supposed to try and imagine, from my point of view, what each represents as that three-storied vehicle that makes up his ability to move through line. The I Am references his driver, and all that his driver knows. He's got the street names down, he knows which ones are closed in the afternoon, he knows where the work crews are at. He has a pretty good layout of the knowledge of the town, and that allows him to be a viable guy when someone jumps in the carriage and says, "Take me to Port 23 Baker Street."

And then, when he says, I Can, he acknowledges the ability of the carriage, which is his physical body, which means he also has to put a little attention to maintaining it, and, you know, keeping the gunk off it and taking all the mud off the wheels, and, you know, cleaning out the carriage once in a while from the city that people left behind, applying oil and grease to any of the moving parts. He has an obligation as a competent driver to take care of this appendage that's going to allow him to get around through the town and through the street.

And then when he says, I Wish, he acknowledges the power of the emotional center, which is really the driving force of it all. The good third force drives the world. That's why we have the old movies like, at half-time, the coach goes in and tells them to "Win one for the Gipper," and the whole team gets fired up and goes out and wins the game. It's that emotional content that really drives, drives them forward.

So we need a good power; we need a good horse. But to some degree, the horse is a little uncontrollable. So we have to, you know, put good reins on it and sometimes even little things next to its eyes, blinders, so it can't be attracted by things that are directly on its path, directly on its journey.

So a man says I Am; he acknowledges his driver and all that that means. When he says I Can, he acknowledges his carriage and all that it means. And when he says I Wish, he feels the power of the horse and sees that he needs all three to be a viable vehicle for transporting passengers.

Now, of course, what he's missed all of his life is the advantage of a permanent passenger. He's always had random passengers. One "I" jumps in and gives the orders to do one thing. And then, a few minutes later, another "I" gets out, and a different one gets in, maybe with contrary instructions. And we've just changed these passengers around all our life. And then, Gurdjieff gives us a great model: the carriage is a little in disrepair, the horse, you know, is getting a little fat, and the driver is in the bar having a drink. And we're not a very good team.

But he says, I Am, I Can, I Wish, individually, and tries to get a sense of what each of those means. And then he moves on to the realization that we're a team. There have to be connections between these parts.

So he says, I Am Can, which acknowledges the connection between him as the driver and his machine as the carriage, which, in the idea of a horse-drawn carriage, the only connection the driver has to the carriage is pretty much the seat. You know, the carriage bumps around; he gets bumped up and down in the air. So he doesn't have much connection with the carriage, but the one connection he does have with the carriage, which is very important, is he has a brake. He has an ability to reach over and grab this thing and pull it back hard and cause things to go against the wheels and stop the carriage.

To realize that he has the ability to stop the carriage, to stop the momentum that maybe was picked up from life or from circumstance or from something that, even if the horse saw the barn and wanted to jump the fence and head for the barn, he might be able to pull on the brake and stop the carriage and therefore stop the horse. So that ability to grab a brake and control the carriage that way is a tremendous advantage in his life. So although he only has pretty much the seat and the brake, with the use of the brake, he can probably have a lot of control over his carriage. So he recognizes those connections.

So he says, I Am Can, and does that. Then he says, I Am Wish. And he recognizes the connection between the driver and the horse. I Am Wish. There's a connection between the driver and the horse. We're connected by a set of reins. Reins are real thin leather things. They're not some strong dynamic thing around, like a brake is to the carriage. They're very fragile stuff, but they do have some control over the horse. A little flick of them can slap him on his butt and, you know, force him to move. A little pull on the left or the right rein can turn his head a little bit and instruct him to, you know, go left or right. And pulling back on the reins can move his head, which will cause him to stop. So he does have some connection.

Gurdjieff gave us a great insight on what reins represented because he called them the visualization. And with the idea that the horse does not understand the language of the driver—you know, the driver can't say to the horse, "Don't get angry. Don't be mad."—the horse doesn't understand. Don't be angry. Don't be mad. So he has to visualize. He can visualize himself not being angry. He can visualize himself not being mad. He can use imagery to create a model that the horse will understand.

So a driver has a lot more control over his horse if he will imagine himself conscious, as one of our exercises deals with. To see himself in that state of what he would look like, how he would act, how he would respond, how he would deal with the world. And in that way, the horse gets some message of what it's supposed to do. So visualization is a great tool for the driver to control the horse via the reins.

So he says, I Wish, I Am Wish, and he performs those connections. And then he says, I Can Wish, and he realizes the connection between the carriage and the horse. And there's a very strong connection between the carriage and the horse. You see these long shafts that directly move out from the carriage and go beside the horse almost all the way up to the front of his body that is strapped on in harnesses, making it very hard for the horse to turn around with this carriage on his back.

In fact, the horse probably has to make a large circle in order to turn the carriage around because of those strong connections from the shaft connected to the harness of the horse. And so, therefore, the damage or the destruction or the wear and tear on the carriage will be quite dependent upon the demeanor and how the horse functions. If the horse is able to get the imagery and not go fast over this bumpy road, those connections that are connected to the carriage will allow the carriage to suffer less damage if the horse goes crazy. So recognizing the connection between a healthy carriage and a controlled horse is a very important thing.

So he says, I Can Wish, and acknowledges this connection. And then finally, he says, I Am Can Wish, and acknowledges all three, like the threefold attention. The realization that the team depends on all three working together. And if the driver's got his one hand on the brake and his other hand on the harness and the reins, and maybe a whip—not to hurt the horse but to cause it to go forward in his little crappie hole that he can grab real quick and provide additional instructions—and his own maintenance and upkeep and control, and taking care of his carriage and the grooming and feeding and fixing all the things so they're comfortable for his horse, he can have quite a good team for carrying passengers.

And then, of course, if he gets lucky and finds someplace like the dog, they can show him how to entice or bring in a real passenger—a permanent passenger, a guy that's supposed to be in the carriage—and have that moment of April Fool's where somebody new sits in there. Not these random ever-changing "I"s that differ every moment but something permanent—a more permanent passenger—that, when the door opens up and somebody tries to just jump in the carriage and let them bark orders to the driver, they see this permanent passenger in the carriage and go, "Oh, never mind, there's somebody already in there." And that helps keep a good passenger in the carriage that stays permanent. And that's what we see.

And if we have a good driver and a good horse and a good carriage and perform our exercises and do the things that are necessary, we won't suffer with ever-changing passengers. We'll be able to maintain some permanency of the passenger in our carriage that's supposed to be there.

And then I'll always tell students, you know, you can go one beyond. When you do have a good passenger that's, to some degree, permanent in your carriage, and you've done the I Am, the I Can, the I Wish, the I Am Can, the I Am Wish, the I Can Wish, and the I Am Can Wish, you can add that last and final step and realize there's an owner that's outside the carriage—the master—that's bigger than the passenger or the carriage or the horse or the driver, that's responsible for it all. And acknowledge that great obligation leads to the reason and impartiality we see.

So that's the I Am, I Can, I Wish exercise.

Summary

Wrapping up this podcast we reflect on the power of the "I Am, I Can, I Wish" exercise. At its heart, this practice is about creating alignment and presence among three core aspects of ourselves: the knowledge of our intellectual center, the physical ability of our moving center, and the driving energy of our emotional center. It’s not just a thought experiment—it’s a practical tool to bring harmony to the way we think, act, and feel.

What makes this exercise so transformative is its ability to help us integrate these often-disconnected parts of our being. By seeing ourselves as the "driver" (intellect), the "carriage" (body), and the "horse" (emotions), we start to understand how these elements work together—or sometimes against each other. Through this awareness, we can begin to guide our lives with more intention, bridging those gaps and fostering unity.

The exercise also sharpens our presence and mindfulness. It invites us to consciously observe and visualize each part of ourselves, making us more aware of how we move through the world, how we feel, and how we think. With that awareness, it becomes easier to manage our emotions and impulses. Using the "reins" of visualization, for instance, we give our mind the tools to steer our emotions more effectively, fostering balance and self-regulation.

Perhaps most inspiring is the "I Wish" aspect, which connects us to our aims and desires. It’s a reminder to align our emotional energy with meaningful purpose, motivating us to take action that truly matters. And as we do this work, we start to notice those "random passengers"—those fleeting impulses and distractions that derail us—and we learn to cultivate a more stable, "permanent passenger," a sense of purpose that stays with us.

What’s amazing is that this exercise is accessible to everyone. It doesn’t require any special skills—just a willingness to engage sincerely. And for those who do, it offers a pathway not just to self-awareness but to something deeper: an awakening of higher consciousness, a clearer sense of who we are, and a greater connection to the world around us.

In the end, "I Am, I Can, I Wish" is more than an exercise—it’s a way to transform how we live, helping us move forward with greater unity, clarity, and purpose. 

Perform this for just five minutes a day, every day, and experience for yourself the transformative nature of this exercise. 

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Thank you for listening.

If you would like to learn more about Russell’s work on how you can attain to objective consciousness with a proven and reliable method of awakening based upon simple rules and laws that govern this universe, simply visit our website thedogteachings.com and acquire Russell Smith’s book, The Blueprint of Consciousness - An Accelerated Path to Awakening, which is also available as a PDF download.

There, you will also be able to listen to other talks, access transcripts of these podcasts, diagrams, animations, supporting videos, and much more.

But most importantly, you may fulfill your true potential, which is your right, and it no longer takes a lifetime to achieve.

As a reminder, we have two ZOOM classes every Sunday to assist you; one is for purchasers of Mr. Smith’s book, and the other is for those who have additionally obtained the Master Exercises and the Double or Nothing Exercises to awaken the Higher Mental Center. See under Resources/Zoom Classes for more details.

At the thedogteachings.com. 

That’s T H E D O G  T E A C H I N G S  Dot Com.

Goodbye, until next time.