My Ego Death

Have you heard about the “ego death”? It’s a stage in a spiritual or psychedelic or mythic experience when the self dies and there is a “complete loss of subjective self-identity.” Joseph Campbell talks about it in the hero’s journey; Jung used it in his psychological studies; and Timothy Leary linked it to the first stage of a psychedelic trip. Boundaries fall away, and one surrenders and feels completely at one with all things.

Many people on the road of self-improvement recognize parts of their ego need to die. They may not be seeking the ultimate nullification of themselves Timothy Leary style. But Buddhists seek enlightenment by letting go of attachments; Christians place God’s will above their own; and many others, religious or not, want to kill negatives parts of their personalities.

I often feel that the problem I face in life is a lack of ego, a lack of a true sense of identity. In day to day life, I tend to absorb the egos of others, like a chameleon taking on the color of its surroundings. I struggle to define who I am through the people around me or the creative projects I take on or the places I choose to live or the personality tests I take.

While others struggle to escape themselves, I struggle to find myself. I feel like a drop of ink in water that is bleeding into its surroundings. I don’t know if this is a noble way of life, if I should continue this mode of being, this state that many people aspire to. Or should I darken my edges to try to stand out from that around me?

I often choose the first because of instinct, or maybe slothfulness, but when I’m aiming to improve myself, I choose the second. I think I have more to offer when I’m distinct.

More importantly, I think this way of being isn’t something to aspire to — it’s not true ego death or self-sacrifice. It’s not a true connection to all things by forgetting myself. It’s simply lazy and complacent, and it means I can be pushed aside by a strong wind if I’m not on a strong foundation. In my worst moments, I am still here, but being pushed around, possibly to somewhere I don’t even want to go, but I’m too scared to speak up.

I have an identity and a sense of self, but it takes me a long time to feel like I can be that around people. It’s not a conscious effort to not act naturally — I simply get around others and shrink in my skin. I become more of a mirror for others, echoing what they say and picking up mannerisms.

The core of myself is something I am continuously having to uncover so others, and myself, can see it. Throughout the years, I’ve shed layers made up of obligations, other people’s beliefs, responsibilities I didn’t ask for, others’ projections of who I am, and new and old fears. I have more to shed. Most likely, I will take on more layers without even realizing it, and they will have to be cast off, as well.

Underneath it all is a woman who is strong and speaks her mind. She’s all about love and warmth. She craves connection with those around her and she isn’t afraid to seek it out. She listens to people and helps them feel seen, then gives good advice when they need it. She feels happiest outside, with grass tickling at her ankles or the sun beating on her skin or the water lapping around her. But she also loves being at home and filling it with good food, all kinds of music, and love. She pursues all these things without fear of conflict or hard work or failure.

She is me. I become this woman at my best moments. Sometimes it happens because of the people I’m with, who give me space and make me feel seen. Other times, it’s all me, fighting against the flow that wants me to surrender what I know I shouldn’t. Or it can happen all of a sudden, surprising me and those around me. It is almost sure to happen during good sex or after taking psychedelics, and it very rarely happens in completely new environments.

She feels safe to show up when I’m listening to her and in dialogue with her. She is always present and pieces of her are always shining through. I have to be mindful of the things that keep her hidden and steadily chip away at the things that cover her up.

Ego, for me, is the idea that avoiding conflict will keep me safe, loved, and happy. It’s the temptation of martyrdom, the denial of negative emotions, and the tendency to daydream and tune out. My ego death means letting go of these misconceptions that keep my true essence smothered. My ego death will let her be free and fly where she wants.

This post was originally published on my tinyletter on February 7th, 2019.