My time on Mt. Madonna has brought me face to face with my ego. These past few days, I’ve made it my goal to dissociate myself from this personality, see myself as separate.
But the task is not to eradicate the ego, but rather, to learn and observe it, so that everything done is for a greater good, and not simply to reinforce preconceptions.
I’ve lived my life alongside this individual self - who craves love and affection, who sings at the top of his lungs, and who fiercely guards the heart.
My ego is highly protective, ready at the gates to bark at anyone trying to sneak in. He raises walls and sends arrows spinning in the air.
He wakes me in the morning, often with a song. Jumping and chanting, he burns through thoughts like smoke, billowing out the window.
At breakfast, he smashes a piñata as I make myself coffee. I watch him greedily devouring candied memories and plans. He leaves the wrappers on the floor.
My ego loves his reflection and if he doesn’t look his best, blames it on dirty mirrors.
When we go to the beach, he stays by the shore, jumping into waves, but afraid of getting swept away into the sea. No amount of convincing can get him to dive deeper to see the fish. But he is curious when I bring him shells and seaweed.
At night he sleeps, nestled by my chest, softly snoring. He often hogs the blankets.