Where Ego, I Go!

Where Ego, I Go


We take ourselves with us. Shame, worthiness, bravado, pretentiousness, and me. In the moment I am everything. It is choice that might distinguish me; I am consciousness and unconsciousness at once. The balance between the positive and the negative (in terms of my own apprehensions that is) determines my disposition, my actions, my moods, my thoughts, my peace of mind. Even here, I give but a piece of it. We are indeed everything, and we disown any one part of ourselves at our folly. After all, what part of being whole is not?

It is in the daily dictum of life that we face a series of challenges, habitual or not. Our very domesticity requires a myriad decisions, our interactions with others necessitates reactions, and we each struggle with the constant choices between that which we feel we ought to do, ought to be, and that which our instinct is provoking us to do, or to be. And which of our sometimes disparate selves, Ego or All of Me, predominates? After all, we implicitly can conjure a problem of good ego and bad ego, a good me and a bad me. Good as in motivating me to be better, bad as in wanting me to show others that I am better than them; balanced as in producing in me a fulfilling of my potentiality, despite where another may be in doing and being. Breath for breath, what fools we mortals be!

Anxiety is the giveaway. That moment of being gripped by such concern that the me of all my involvement in life maintains its unsettling momentum since I am the one around whom all events revolve. Ego grips me. Ego guides me. I am responsible, accountable, attached to the outcome, dependent, involved, and crucial. It is all about me. After all, what part of everything is not? Ergo, says Ego, am I thereby not a part of everything?

Non-attachment for me is not lack of involvement, feeling dispassion, or appearing non-caring. Non-attachment for me is not detachment. It is acceptance. Non-attachment is the paradoxical sense of being totally in the moment. It is me being involved in the situation while utterly responsible for my reaction since the only thing for which I can be responsible is my reaction, even to my own instigations, plans, orders, projects, and passions. Ego within my peaceful moments of non-attachment is the living realization that my being affects others, and that such affect ideally contributes toward the health of the whole (as much as I am inclined within the context of my daily awareness.) Yet selfishness, as I reflect with honesty, dominates. Isn't my life, after all, really about me?

Me. It's such a small word. Me. It's such a limited subject. And yet all I have is the perceptions of my viewpoints, the apprehensions of my emotions, the instincts of my learnings, and the immediacy of my physicality. Me. In fact, I often do not relate to you as another me; I see me first and you second, or even last, for inasmuch as I relate to people around me I instinctually am more of an accord with the one than with the other.

Naturally I am self-involved, self-inclined, and self-absorbed. Well, if not totally then quite a lot. It is my process that I work out the kinks of being me, ergo, to loose my Ego. Loose that is, not lose, for to lose my ego would be to have negated an essential part of me. The same for thee? Or is this treatise indeed all about me?

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