I met one of my favorite authors at his book signing. I asked if he was happy with the book. He said he would have completed it much sooner had he been less important to himself. He offered a wry smile. It felt like he was telling me something about myself.
I have always been important to myself. I carry self significance around like a weight. It precedes me everywhere. I remember seeing Sam Kinison on stage. The crowd erupted in anticipation before he even walked out. I wanted that power, the kind that announces itself and demands its place. The kind that seems overbearing to others, yet feels like a minimum level of self-protection to me.
Once, I was hired to tell jokes at a party. The host, our benefactor, nodded and smiled but never laughed. At the end of the night, when he paid me, I asked him why he never laughed at my jokes. He said, “Because I feel like you’re forcing me to.” It hit me. My need to coerce people for my validation was pretty narcissistic. We all have ego. We place ourselves at the center. Some of us close ourselves off completely to feedback, creating an impenetrable wall. We protect ourselves from a safe distance, all the while suffering crushing doubt and loneliness inside the performative fortress.
This is a description of my style of ego. Your mileage may vary. But we all try and control our lives from an insulated booth removed from everything else. We all have our style and we are all generally trapped there. It is said that ego is like a general that becomes more powerful than the king. In an ironic reversal, the king now serves the general. Ego is a like defensive blister on the self that becomes inflamed anger or is threatened. The self is semi-permeable, allowing communication. Ego, however, tries to control everything to protect the self. Some people bruise their environment, like I did. Others pull inward, making everyone come to them. Some are late, making others wait. Some are generous, marking their good deeds. These are styles of imprisonment. The tools we use to defend ourselves become our prison guards.
We diminish our hearts. We cut ourselves off from sustenance. We compete with everything, seeking protection and power. We become like a government under martial law, curtailing information, stopping openness, becoming vicious little creatures who see what they believe. Each of us has a style, but all are controlling and because of that ego is limiting. The surest way to control life is to reduce life to a manageable size.
Ego is ignorant of itself. It protects our self-awareness by demanding control. This sets up massive expectations without us even knowing what or why. Sometimes, I can’t get out of bed. Many have felt that. My version was embarrassment for not living up to the outsized expectations my ego set. I was too important to myself to be myself. I had to be larger or smaller than life.
The antidote to this neurosis is awareness. With meditation practice we grow our awareness and begin to see the defensive patterns that limit us. We live in extremes to avoid seeing ourselves. Like a black hole, we can’t see the ego directly, but we see its effects. Hurt people hurt people. We inflate when hurt, trying to become bigger. Or deflate when threatened, trying to be invisible
But ego isn’t the problem; cherishing the self is. Protecting, building, and cherishing the self creates pain. Meditation helps us see clearly, without judgment. We see how we hurt others and ourselves, how we limit ourselves. We develop mindfulness—awareness of body, life force, life itself, and emotions. We start to unpack the ego net that has ensnared us, making us it’s puppet.


So, let’s break down the components of this elephant. The elephant stands on the notion of a “self“. At some point in human evolution we became conscious. That localized sense of perceiving began to organize itself into an entity that is aware of itself. This allowed us a vantage from which to navigate an otherwise unmanageable sea of possibility. Yet, that navigation comes at the cost of limiting those possibilities. This notion of self is a necessary limitation in order for consciousness to have a reference point. Ego is a further limitation of those possibilities. Ego happens as self-awareness becomes a self-consciousness that assumes itself to be self-existing. This assumption of “me” can become a self-referential closed loop that reduces awareness to specifically localized points of view. The ego works as a set of patterned functions that reduce what we see of the world. We conflate reality down to serviceable quanta which, in turn, are seen as a means to serve our perceived compensatory needs. These perceived needs are generated to compensate for feelings of lack or vulnerability. In other words, we see what we are conditioned to see and generate feelings that prompt reactions. We generally do this all without much investigation.
The antidote is to stop. Allow a gap. Breathe out. Drop into ourselves and feel ourselves in our body. That is much closer to reality than circular, ego world building. Just drop it. Come home, and be here. This act of self love will allow the elephant to rest. When the elephant rests we can look around and see the world as it is.
I once wrote an unlove song that went “people suck, and you’re one of them.” Yet life with the irritations of other humans may be worthwhile simply because we have no choice. It is an existential situation that we can either choose to see or turn away from. Sartre’s play was an existential glimpse of a human condition that left us with no alternative, hence the idea of hell. The Buddhists say the cycle of suffering, referred to as l samsara, is endless. And, yet the Buddha predicted that suffering can nonetheless cease if we understand its cause. Our experience of that endless sea of suffering is enacted by the clinging attachment to the straws of life we feel will save us from drowning. Instead of flowing though life with an open sense of discovery, we grasp to the things we love and struggle to get away from things we hate. And in the turbulence of yes and no, wanting and not wanting, we become blind to the rest of our life.
It is essential for the butterfly to struggle through its cocoon in order to develop the strength to fly. Likewise, it is essential for those on a wisdom journey, to work with the discomfort of waking up. The Tibetans refer to “lakthong” or clear seeing. Lakthong is seeing beyond our reference points and likened to “waking up. When faced with the discomfort of seeing more clearly, a common tactic is to find fault and assign blame. We can deflect the pain of our burgeoning awareness onto a projection of another object. However, this freezes us in place. Once we pinpoint a problem, then it becomes a scapegoat. We are no longer looking, because we are seeing what we believe. Smart people are very susceptible to irritation and blame. People of high intellect can often become impatient with those moving on slower cycles. It’s natural to value our world from the vantage of our own values. Sometimes this conflates into a rigid false binary. Some people are good and some are evil. Assigning a value of evil may be more about pushing away something you find uncomfortable than an absolute value scale.
At this writing we are heading toward a pivotal, some say existential, national election. The two primary presidential candidates have come under fire. One fending attacks against their age and mental acuity. The other, quite literally, in a narrowly missed assassination attempt. Both of these situations have caused us to stop and reconsider solid paradigmatic points of view.
Binaries are fictions we create to better understand chaos. There is a good, and there is a bad. We have right and we have wrong. We feel comfort in fending off chaos with these solid beliefs. All of us have something we feel is real. But clinging to those beliefs create suffering as readily as clinging to material things or other people. This is called materialism of view. We believe our ideas are real. Well, good luck with that. I’ve actually come to see that binaries are by their nature never real. They are crude designations, the first step in the mental triage in trying to address the unsettling unknowing of chaos. The remedy? Hahaha. Relax. We are struggling through a natural process of rebirth. There is no reason to struggle. Our disquiet is urging us to discomfort. Our discomfort tells the part of ourselves charged with being in control that we are under siege. And so we prove our mettle by digging in. We turn false binaries in rhetoric and rhetoric into violence. At this point, the chaos in our mind becomes chaos in our life.

As this brain grew, it gained the processing ability to go beyond the defensive reaction of its dark beginnings and, learning to see a bigger picture, strategize its way past danger and toward sustenance. This remarkable ascension is still happening and that’s a wonderful thing. Yet, that growth happened so quickly, our minds are developing new skills while our brain is still holding to old processes. This creates a dissonance between a view of what may be possible and what we fear could happen.
I sadly never got out of my head long enough to let my heart into the equation but maybe it happened at some point. It wasn’t until years later when meditation gave me the courage to allow vulnerability. But, whether it was groping on a high school dance floor, fumbling in the back seat, or sitting on the meditation cushion, the moment of frailty when we “fall” is an important step in our spiritual journey.
What if instead of paying endless lip service to love, we just deeply kiss the world? What if our politics and our nations were organized around faith in the power of love? I guess the process is to conceive it and then believe it and then let that go and simply be it. Thich Nhat Hanh said, “BE love.” Believe it and be it.
So, how can we make this large picture practical for us? We can begin by loooking at ourselves, as we are. How can compassion make my life a better place? What can I do today to make my life easier and more productive so that I may better serve? This is not selfish, it’s practical. However, trying to make my life better than someone else’s, or a better place for only me and mine, is selfish because it’s narrow minded and myopic. Compassion is developing the tools to care for ourselves so that we can care for other beings. But, we are one of those beings. In fact, until we learn to effectively care for ourselves we will be unable to care for others.
Yet, if we accept that we are a work-in-progress then we can learn to gain confidence in ourselves. Self-aggrandizement, like the arrogance it engenders, covers leads to a lack of belief in ourselves. We know inside that we are not the ideal, and so believe we are less than the ideal. But that truth is if we can accept ourselves and vow to discover what we become, we are committing to a path of supporting ourselves. As we develop self-awareness, we naturally gain regard for ourselves. And though this regard for ourselves we begin to see others more clearly. Freed of the veils of defensive self interest we begin to see that we are not as estranged from our world as we had imagined.
Contacting love in our life is possible if we are free of the turmoil that often occupies our mind. Sometimes this happens accidentally, as when something startles us and stops our mind. Sometimes it happens when our mind naturally notices a flower or bird that opens our mind.
Compassion is natural to all life. But so is danger. Much of life does what it can to sustain itself and focuses its cellular attention on living, growing and providing, serene in its unknowing. Most life is a natural and necessary part of the dance of the planet. But, the greatest danger to the balance of life comes from the only part of the planet that sees itself. The one who’s acidic stomach is gurgling as it watches the rabbit hop merrily into the wooded shadows. The greatest danger lies within. This is as true of ourselves and our societies. This is the greatest danger because it is the one unseen. We are so attuned to the danger around us, we lie in vulnerable ignorance of the aggression we cause ourselves and others. It is the work of compassion practice to help us reprogram the mind to balance the openness of loving moments with the truth of the dangers in life. We do this by de-emphasizing the importance of ourselves to ourselves that is clouding the picture. THis is not to say that we are not important. We are just not as important enough to suck the air out of life. Humans are a little like drunken blowhards going on about their workout routine at a party. SIr Harold Pinter wrote a play called “The Party” in which a group of haute society people revelled in their intrigues and drama while occasionally, we have seemingly inconsequential references to turmoil in the streets. By play’s end it is clear the turmoil is a violent revolution that will end everything they know.
Over
direction is too loose. Sometimes we rail against the authority of form, and this stops the flow, but it may be necessary to reboot the process or add freshness to a routine. But once we reboot, finding the groove and waking up in the rhythm of life. Navigating between the extremes of too tight and too loose we find the balance point for optimal creativity in life. A dancer needs discipline, but the point of the discipline is to let go into the piece. No one wants to see anyone work. We want to see them dance. We want the fruit of their labor. So, form need never be seen. The hand of the director should never be seen. The dance should feel as natural as the river.