Beyond Ego

The identification of oneself as an individual is ego—ego being the Latin word for “I.” Thinking in terms of me and I is ego.

When we set out on a journey to find our authentic selves, we're met with many challenges. But it's not the challenges that usually stop us—it's the fears. Fear of losing money, fear of losing the image we've built for ourselves. Fear of being seen differently than how we’ve been presenting. Fear of being perceived as foolish. Fear of losing friends, or even loved ones.

All of these fears stem from the ego, because we tend to identify so deeply with these external things. We confuse them with our true selves. We associate who we are with what we do—usually our jobs—or with the version of ourselves we've created for validation. We cling so tightly to that image that we forget it’s not who we really are.
Many people spend their whole lives trying to protect and maintain those personas. And the further they go, the harder it becomes to look at themselves as anything else. But I believe there’s a higher purpose for each of us. A deeper path. And the universe, in its own way, tries to nudge us toward it—through moments of discomfort, and sometimes pain.
Joseph Campbell talks about this in The Hero with a Thousand Faces—the idea of the “Call to Adventure.” And the longer we ignore that call, the louder it gets, the more discomfort it brings.
In real life, it might look like a stock market trader losing money because of the market’s unpredictability. For them, the call might be to stop chasing shortcuts and instead build a deeper understanding before investing again.
I’ve had my own “calls” in different forms. At times, I ignored them. And as expected, they came back stronger, more uncomfortable. If you're lucky, the pain of inaction eventually becomes greater than the pain of action. And that action, especially in uncertain territory, is what our ego fears the most. I think I’m arriving at that point. I feel fortunate to be living a life of abundance—with people and resources around me. But I’m also increasingly aware that the action has to be mine. These small nudges are trying to teach me something, and I know the lessons won’t always come easily. But I hope, looking back, I’ll be just as grateful for the discomfort as I am for the comfort. Because if nothing else, it’s teaching me to push past my ego—and face the fears I’ve been avoiding.