What happens when everything you’ve known to be true falls apart? When every minute detail you’ve chosen to identify yourself with over an entire lifetime dies away? When “who you are” isn’t really who you are anymore?
I’ve been asking myself these questions a lot lately as I continue to embark on the spiritual journey closer to living a life guided by my soul rather than my ego.
What does that word mean anyways, EGO? Three small letters with such power and stigma attached to them. Three small letters that are silently governing how almost all of mankind operates and makes decisions from. Three small letters that are destroying our planet, our sanity, and our happiness.
It is my belief and personal experience that our illusive ego must die. It must fall away. And it must be destroyed before it destroys everything in the path in front of us. It is destroyed merely by being looked upon by eyes that can see a more broader perspective than it. No destructive force is required. Destructive force IS that of the ego and so it must be gently and peacefully looked upon to accomplish its own abolishment.
I see my own ego as the broad title reigning over all the smaller subtitles I’ve used to identify myself with. The descriptions, titles, and accomplishments I’ve used to put myself superior to any other person I share this Earth with and mostly the titles I’ve used to put myself above the real, raw, vulnerable-ness that resides deep inside me, the real me. Ego is the front. The shield. The bluff. The fake-ness that stands tall in front of the trueness that I really am.
The mighty ego masks itself in the obsession of consumerism that engulfs our Western Culture. The must haves of designer handbags, shoes, rings, and watches. It masks itself in the endless pursuit of wealth and fame. The better car and the bigger house completed with all the perfect furnishings. It is the drive towards perfectionism. The perfect life where everything plays out according to exact plan. The ego is hidden in the micromanaging of every detail with the sad, sad illusion that we have any control at all. It is the checking off of the to-do list of accomplishments and prestigious achievements to somehow compare oneself more worthy than the next. It is the body, the flesh, the managing of every calorie ingested and every bit of fat sweated of in a desperate attempt to be loved, to be accepted, or to be told you are beautiful. It is the lack of accepting that you should be ANYWHERE other than where you are standing right here, right now, as you are.
The illusion that this very moment isn’t perfect in all its apparent fucked up-ness.
As I say goodbye to all the petty aspects I’ve chosen to call my identity, I feel a sense of sadness and loss pulse through my body. A tightness in my chest and a clenching in my stomach. Who am I without these masks? What does life mean to me if no meaning is found in the pursuit of that which society has told me will bring me happiness and fulfilment? When I start making my way down the checklist of accomplishments and things to be proud of only to be left with a further sense of empty?
I can’t answer what it fully means yet because I am living through it. I am living out the death of everything I have, until now, attached myself with. What is left behind is a curiosity… a questioning… a desire… a thirst and a hunger for what lays deep in the center of the Universe which I know lays also within the center of my own heart, a small scale version of something so big and expansive. But I have a feeling what it looks like, even though I can’t yet see or touch it. Even though it’s not yet tangible I can feel it growing in the center of my being, like a glowing ball of gold energy swirling round and round, gaining momentum before it combusts into physical manifestation.
And while I wait for my internal world to beautifully orchestrate itself in front of me, I sit in a state of limbo, of sadness and hopefulness BOTH fighting for my attention. As they wrestle each other to the ground, I shed a tear for the person I used to be, for the person that led me to where I am now. With that, I grieve my own death, as I patiently sit and await my rebirth.