The second essay in the series, Our Highest Possibilities, involves a crucial step we must take if we are to get in touch with that which is truly important: to step outside our everyday selves.
A poem by Jalaluddin Rumi:
For years, copying other people, I tried to know myself.
From within, I couldn’t decide what to do.
Unable to see, I heard my name being called.
Then, I walked outside.
One question this raises: What did he walk outside of?
When I am looking out at the world from within my individual point of view, it is usually the “me” that I was enculturated to identify with, an individual separate from other individuals and from the world. This is my normal identity, the person I seem to be to myself during most of my waking hours. The traditional way to describe this person I think I am is “ego self,” and the best short definition I can give of ego is “everything I think of when I think of myself.”
Most of us identify with this image of who we are a great deal of the time. When we do, the ego is the center of awareness as well as our identity. There are, however, times when we are outside this identity. Ralph Waldo Emerson explored this “outside” throughout his life:
“We lie in the lap of immense intelligence, which makes us receivers of its truth and organs of its activity. When we discern justice, when we discern truth, we do nothing of ourselves, but allow a passage to its beams.”
“The great nature in which we rest is that Unity, that Over-Soul, within which every man’s particular being is contained and made one with all other.”
“Standing on the bare ground, my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space, all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of Universal Being circulate through me.”
Alternatives to Ego Identification
Anyone who focuses on the possibility of stepping outside the ego quickly recognizes that there are a surprising number of moments when the center of identity is not the ego self. When I am asleep, for instance, my ego is not in charge — or even present. There might be a character in the dream that I somewhat identify with, but that dream “me” is always different in significant ways from my waking self. Over my lifetime, tens of thousands of dreams have come and gone, and some have affected my life in significant ways, but none have had the same perspective as my normal ego self.
Thought Experiment — Not being the ego, 1
Ask yourself: Where is my ego when I am asleep?
If you begin to think about it, you will discover there have been many times when you were out of the ego’s perspective. Often this has happened without a conscious intention on your part, such as when an emotion or feeling just took over. A common example in my life is when I get caught up in an emotional current that dominates my point of view for a period of time. I have even come to the point I can name many of these different parts of myself: the angry me, the hurt me, the fearful me, the righteous me, the grandiose me. There are many more. When I am in the grip of one of these feelings or moods, I do not see myself or the world from my ego’s point of view. It is only later that I am able to recognize I was caught in one of my “complexes,” as Carl Jung called them.
Thought Experiment — Not being the ego, 2
Is your ego the center of awareness when you are in a rage, lost in passion, overcome with grief, delirious with fever, or filled with awe and wonder?
Other moments when I find myself organized outside my individualistic self are when I feel part of a larger group, such as family, tribe, community, or nation. This is, in fact, a frequent occurrence for most of us — think of the countless stories through history of those who have sacrificed themselves during wars or crises for the good of others. One’s ego can be involved in such sacrifice, but often there is an identity with the group that goes beyond the small self. It arises spontaneously, is felt deeply, and sometimes leads to non-egoic actions.
Throughout history, most people have been raised to identify with some group — to a greater or lesser degree. Often with more than one group. Yet being enculturated into a communal world does not mean the absence of an ego. All human beings have one, and each ego ranges on a spectrum that includes some individualism and some degree of communal identity. For each of us, the intensity of communal enculturation affects the level of emphasis we will give to personal goals versus communal ones. For instance, to sacrifice oneself for family, tribe, religious group, or nation is common in many communal societies, and making this sacrifice is often chosen without much reflection. This kind of spontaneous giving of oneself happens naturally in those brought up to feel that their identity is embedded in the group. In fact, this is perhaps the most common way of finding oneself outside: spontaneously forgetting the self in an act of service for others without reflection or a conscious decision.
This kind of self-sacrifice, however, is not limited to communal cultures. Individuals with strong egos sometimes sacrifice personal comfort and convenience — and even risk death — to help others. Stories of those who spontaneously risked their lives to help others, even people they did not know, have been numerous in every culture and every age. Why did they do this? The great mythologist Joseph Campbell said it was due to a universal characteristic, “a sense of identity” deep within that gives us a feeling of being connected to all others, a sense that, in some mysterious way, we are connected to all and everything. He believed that at the deepest level we have within us a sense of shared identity with all. If this is true, then a spontaneous act to help another springs from a momentary experience of that deep connection, and in that moment becomes a radical step “outside.”
Individualism
In contrast to a strong communal identity, many in the modern West have been shaped by images of rugged individualism. This has been especially true in the United States since its founding, and reinforced by successive waves of social Darwinism, Frederic Nietzsche’s thought, Freud’s view of the self-enclosed self, cowboy and superhero movies, and much literature from Ayn Rand to Jean Paul Sartre.
Thus, even though I grew up in a small town with a certain degree of communal cohesiveness, a lot of my enculturation emphasized thinking of myself as an individual — a unique, separate consciousness that had to struggle to make a place for itself in the world. This early training reached warp speed when, in college, I entered a culture in thrall to a mixture of modernity and post-modernity. I experienced the rebellion against authority of the 60s and 70s as well as the rising power of the mantras, “Do your own thing” and “Be true to yourself.” Individual authenticity, that was the ticket (although few of us had any idea what that really meant). All these influences reinforced my tendency to think of myself as a solitary being, an isolated consciousness peering over the edge of a great abyss into the void.
Today, much of the world has joined or is moving toward the culture of individualism. For much of history, though, most people had strong communal identities, the “I” being more centered in a group than fierce individuality. This is still the case for a significant number of people around the world living in small communities or cohesive neighborhoods, but they no longer make up the majority in many countries.
As I look back, I can see that growing up in an individualistic culture had significant advantages, but also powerful disadvantages. Both became more clear when I visited cultures in which identity was mostly centered around a group, either the extended family, town, village, or tribe. My enculturation insisted that such cultures were inferior, but people in those places often seemed to have less anxiety, stress, angst, and depression — traits that were common in the world from which I came. (When tribal cultures are overrun by individualistic cultures, the broken culture often exhibits unhealthy traits, for the old ways of creating a cohesive communal life have been swept away by the conquerors. The conquering culture then points to the brokenness of the conquered peoples’ lives as evidence that their old ways were inferior. The opposite conclusion is often more appropriate.)
Ego Escape Routes
To summarize the ego escape routes mentioned so far, everyone steps out of the ego when asleep, as well as when a strong passion or mood takes over consciousness. Also, through history every culture has brought up its children to have some degree of identification with a group, and this has limited the individualistic ego. Many have even sacrificed themselves or their own desires for family, tribe, or nation, because of this enculturation.
Thought Experiment — To serve others, 1
Have you ever, without conscious thought, spontaneously acted for the good of another, or others?
Another level: Some have stepped beyond the small self more consciously. It is not uncommon for an individual to decide, after reflection, to sacrifice for another, or for the family, tribe, or community. This involves a more conscious decision to understand one’s identity as larger than the small self, and sometimes this can even lead to a conscious decision to abandon all consideration for what is good for one’s ego self. (All the main characters in the movie Casablanca make this kind of choice — which is a central reason it is among the most popular movies of all time. They each sacrifice something they very much personally want, and also accept risk, for a cause they believe in, to support someone they love, or out of friendship.) In the same way, many people through history, especially in times of war or crises, have seen the dangers of the choice they were making and chosen to walk that dangerous path anyway.
Thought Experiment — To serve others, 2
Have you ever made a conscious decision to serve another, a group of others, or the community even if it might involve a loss of something you personally wanted – safety, money, security, prestige, status, or acceptance from a group you valued?
Skeptico: Have you had any moments like that?
Wisdom Seeker: Yes.
(If you are unfamiliar with my previous writings, let me introduce you to Skeptico, my inner skeptic, and Wisdom Seeker, my inner wisdom figure. They often debate ideas I am trying to understand more clearly.)
Skeptico: Times when you absolutely did not think about the consequences to yourself?
Wisdom Seeker: Yes, but the questions in the two “Thought Experiments” above have different answers. When I took a spontaneous action without making a conscious choice, there was no concern at the moment for the consequences to myself. Later, however, there was often concern about what might happen to me. On the other hand, when I made a conscious decision to put another person first, or a group, or a cause, I was much less likely to be concerned afterward. I had already made peace with the decision and could more easily accept whatever the results turned out to be.
It is also significant to note that both situations are quite different from times I remained centered in my ego. When my ego remained in control throughout a situation, I was focused on the consequences to myself before, during, and after the action was taken. This prevented me from taking much risk, or only highly calculated risks, where I weighed carefully the possible rewards versus the risk.
Skeptico: I have had urges to help others, but I realized long ago that if I rushed in every time I felt such urges, I would never get anything done for myself.
Wisdom Seeker: You’re exactly right. We cannot act spontaneously to serve others all the time and still keep moving toward our own ego goals. Building a life requires acting from the ego much of the time, and a significant number of spontaneous acts of self-sacrifice wreak havoc on an individual’s life trajectory. That message was conveyed dramatically in the story of Don Quixote long ago. Still, choosing to sometimes respond to selfless urges is probably crucial for a fulfilled life.
The Door of the Mystic
Another important way to get beyond the small self is through a powerful mystical experience. There are countless reports of people feeling merged with nature, connected to all beings, or one with the Divine. In a mystical state, identity is far beyond the individual ego. Of course, these experiences can happen without any preparation or intention — we can find ourselves outside the ego without warning, having done nothing we are consciously aware of to bring it about.
But not always. For millennia, practices have been developed to make such an occurrence more likely, and it is clear that stepping outside can be influenced by conscious intent. There are numerous decisions I can make that will loosen my identification with the small self and make stepping outside more likely. I can’t force this to happen whenever I wish, and sometimes trying to make it happen will have the opposite effect (reinforcing the focus on the small “me” who is “trying”). Still, we can do various things to prepare ourselves, and in so doing our intention becomes one of the determining factors. As the Hindu sage Ramakrishna put it, we cannot make the wind blow, but we can raise our sails to prepare for it.
Exploring the history of the mystical door reveals that getting beyond the ego has been highly valued in most every culture, and numerous methods have been developed to accomplish it, such as prayer, meditation, focusing on service to others, and engaging in the creative process. All these and many other methods have been used to shift an individual’s identity away from the ego — sometimes to the point that the ego completely disappears. In these moments, there is usually an observing “I” present, an awareness that is experiencing, but this “I” is not who we normally think of as the ego self. Rather, it is called by names such as the witness, the observer, the higher self, or the transcendental ego.
All this might sound abstract and unreachable to those centered in the everyday mind, but it is actually near at hand, “closer than breath, than heartbeat.” Right now, in this moment, there are numerous things you can do to make it more likely you will open into this broader perspective. Besides prayer and meditation, listening to certain kinds of music can be a doorway; for others it might be reading great literature or immersion in nature. Many cultures have developed the ritual use of drugs to expand consciousness, and others have used initiation ceremonies, drumming, dance, and methods to invoke a trance state. In my own life, several times I have been jerked out of my normal self-centeredness by a crisis. Other times I have found myself “outside” during intense passion, as well as by choosing to throw myself into an adventure. And it has happened many times while traveling far from my normal world. (Choosing an adventure or to travel far from home is, for me, to raise the sail. But then, I have to wait for the wind to blow.)
Before you rush off in search of a mystical experience, however, be warned that they are not always positive. Further, there are healthy and unhealthy ways to step out of the ego, and even valuable ventures can present problems for one’s ego life. For instance, it is fairly common for someone who has an experience outside the ego to be anxious about what has happened when it is over, especially if it is a new experience, or a powerful one.
To reduce this anxiety, it is important to keep in mind how frequent these experiences have been in every culture, and how highly valued they have frequently been. They are given great value because they are often accompanied by a pervading sense of joy, love, peace, and even ecstasy. No wonder a longing for egolessness runs through the world’s cultures and wisdom traditions. No wonder those who have tasted this nectar wish to experience it again.
Still, stepping outside needs to be approached with care and integrated wisely. For this integration, it is valuable to have guidance from those with previous experience. When this is present, moving into a state of expanded awareness is much more likely to have a beneficial result.
The Path of Love
Another escape route from the ego is love. Not the self-centered feeling of “I cannot live without you,” for that feeling is ego-based. To say, “I cannot live without you” is focused on what the “I” wants. True selfless love is quite different. There, the individual is carried beyond identifying with the separate self into an experience of oneness with the beloved. As artist Brian Andreas put it: “Today all I could remember was the way your body held the ocean of my self and for a moment there was only one of us in all creation.”
For this experience to be real, however, it must meet two stern conditions: (1) It must be based on deep concern for the beloved, as opposed to hope that the beloved will provide something you want, and (2) The feeling must come from the core of your being, pervading the whole self, becoming much more than a momentary impulse and enduring through changing moods, whims, and ego calculations.
It is interesting that the individualistic culture of our time often glorifies selfless love in movies and literature. This at first seems like a paradox because the individualism we idolize is the opposite: Thinking your ego trajectory is the most important thing in the world does not lead to selfless love. Having individualism at the center of one’s life instead leads to feelings of loneliness and isolation. Thus, movies and literature that present images of selfless love serve as a counterpoint, a corrective to our rampant individualism. While we are within their spell, the loneliness of the ego seems to be overcome — while the movie lasts. As long as the images linger, feelings of deep connection replace the alienation and separation we so often feel.
As the magic fades, however, when the last scene is over or the book is closed, most of us quickly find ourselves back in our isolated selves. At that point, few are willing to make the sacrifices needed to experience true, selfless love in the living of our lives. Many long for this feeling, but it is hard to break free of ego motivations. The small self strongly resists, and it is powerful. Additionally, we want it to be easy, and it is not. In a culture in which self-centeredness is heavily encouraged, escaping the hold of the ego is hard.
Thus, for most of us in the modern world, selfless love is longed for but seldom found. Instead, many end up pursuing a quick fix of self-centered romantic love, or a shallow narcissistic joy ride that provides immediate gratification but whose pleasures evaporate quickly. On this path, the music often stops abruptly and all that remains is emptiness and ashes. The most common response then, after a bit of self-pity, is to look for the next escape or quick fix.
The Way of Commitment
Still another path that can take us beyond the ego is to intentionally give ourselves to a cause, an ideal, or to those in need. In all of these possibilities, the organizing center of one’s life becomes, through a conscious choice, that which is good for others, rather than what is good for the small self. Sometimes the ego chooses such a path for self-centered reasons, but the rewards from serving others from this limited motivation do not endure, while those who consciously and sincerely choose with their whole being to give themselves to a cause or to serve others find that it brings a sense of meaning and fulfillment that is lasting.
Skeptico: Have you experienced this?
Wisdom Seeker: Yes, but it is important to again make a distinction, for life does not unfold simply, and few of us are pure in our motives. Rather, we often have many motivations, and each has some degree of influence. This is not bad — it is the nature of being human.
The distinction that needs to be made is this: Sometimes, after doing something I considered noble at the time, I realized later that my ego was more involved than I had thought. Sorting out motives is difficult, and sometimes, in retrospect, I have seen that my actions were actually spurred by an ego story. (For instance, I was trying to be the kind of person my small self thought I should be, and although it might have led to a good action, the ego was still in charge). When this was the case, I was frequently disappointed with the results. Or to be more precise, my ego was disappointed because it did not get the degree of satisfaction it had expected.
On the other hand, there have been a few occasions when, looking back, it feels my actions truly did arise from a true concern for another, times when my self-centered drives were replaced by a deep concern for the well-being of another person. And there have also been a few times when I organized around what seemed best for a community of which I was a part, and a few others when I made a conscious decision to do something for an ideal in which I believed. The confirmation that I was not acting from self-centered motives was that I continued on the path even when I believed it would cost me something my ego self felt was important.
Skeptico: What happened in those times?
Wisdom Seeker: When I truly acted from a concern for another, or for others, or for a cause greater than myself, something deep in me was aware that my small self was being put aside for a higher good and that I had stopped calculating the cost to myself. Those times, something in me beyond my small self felt that everything was as it should be, and I was left with an enduring sense that I was participating in a deep current having to do with what life is ultimately about. Then, as time went on, this feeling became ever stronger, no matter the worldly outcome of the endeavor.
Skeptico: How do you think you were able to get to that place and stay there even through difficulties?
Wisdom Seeker: My clearest thought is that during those times the part of me making the decisions was my Higher Self, and my ego self was either not present or was cooperating with that higher part. The whole of me had consciously embraced a larger picture, and my small self had accepted the decision, even if reluctantly, and was not interfering.
Skeptico: If I wished to move in that direction, how would I do it?
Wisdom Seeker: The crucial steps, if you wish to be less controlled by your ego self: 1) Begin to make a concerted effort to live from care and concern for others as often as you can, 2) Observe your ego self as clearly as you can, get to know it — not condemning or being overly critical, but understanding, accepting and expanding beyond it, 3) Spend time exploring the many levels of yourself that lie beyond the ego, including your Higher Self. (For a full discussion of the different levels within each of us, see my two essays, “Ten Levels of Myself.”)
https://ameaningfullife.org/uncategorized/5-10-levels-of-myself-part-i/
https://ameaningfullife.org/uncategorized/6-ten-levels-of-myself-part-ii/
Larger and Larger Identities
As mentioned, anyone who begins to explore this territory will discover that spontaneous moments of opening to something larger have happened with great frequency throughout human history. Today, people all around you are choosing to put another person, the community, a cause they believe in, or an ideal at the center of their lives, rather than their small selves. Not most people, but a significant number. If you want to move in that direction yourself, look for them, associate with them, choose to become one of them.
At the same time, be aware that for most of us, moments of giving ourselves to something larger will probably not motivate our actions or be our main focus the majority of the time. A few among us have moved into a place of great selflessness, but not many. When most of us act selflessly, it is usually for brief periods, and we soon find ourselves back in the ego perspective. Having an experience of a selfless identity does not, by itself, create a new center of gravity.
These moments do, however, provide a glimpse of the greater possibility. But after such a glimpse, to spend a significant amount of time beyond the ego requires making a conscious decision to do the work necessary to stay in that place for increasing periods of time. That is precisely what the Buddha’s Eight-fold Path, the Benedictine Rule and other Christian structures of practice, Patanjali’s Eight Limbs in Hinduism, and practices in every other tradition are about.
Skeptico: You speak as if you have been there and back more than once.
Wisdom Seeker: Yes, I have found myself outside my ego many times, but then found myself back within its embrace soon thereafter. Remembering how it felt to be outside, however, encouraged my longing to step outside again. The problem is, with the ego back in control, the only way to be outside again is to wait on good fortune to strike, to leave it to chance — or to persuade my ego to organize around trying to reach that egoless state again.
This is a central paradox about which all the wisdom traditions speak. Their message is that, in order to find fulfillment, we must move beyond the small self, move beyond thinking the ego is who we really are. But since the ego has a lot of control over our lives, the only way to “move beyond” frequently is for the ego to embrace the intention of moving beyond itself. As Jacob Needleman put it in Lost Christianity, “The ego must become interested in its own destruction.”
Again, a distinction between two similar but very different states is important: (1) being in an experience of expanded awareness, and (2) being in the ego remembering the expanded state.
One way to recognize the difference between the two is that no one tries to get beyond the ego while in an experience of egolessness. In these moments, one does not long to get rid of the ego, for it is not there. When you are in a place of egolessness, there is nothing to get rid of. While in an egoless place, there is nowhere to go and nothing to do. You are simply absorbed in the experience. Any time you think you need to get rid of the ego, you are in your ego.
After an expanded state is over, however, when you are back within the limitations of the ego, a longing arises to return to that remembered state. There is a memory of feeling free, of directly experiencing Being as it is in itself. This memory is a powerful allure, and the journey beyond the ego begins in earnest when such memories become strong.
The ego, however, must join the journey, must cooperate in overcoming itself, for only an ego can organize a successful journey. At the very least, it must be willing to subordinate itself part of the time to the larger goal. To frequently return to an experience of egolessness, a strong ego is necessary — but one that will require less and less emphasis on its own desires. I think this is what Carl Jung meant when he said that the goal is to make the ego strong, but “as small as possible.” It must be strong, for the journey is filled with difficulties that only an ego can overcome. But the ego must gradually fade as the center of attention, or its continued centrality will subvert the process.
To say this in a slightly different way: The ego must decide that living into expanded awareness is an ideal worth pursuing — that finding a connection to something greater than itself is worthy of its commitment. Only in this way will a person be able to sustain the necessary discipline and practice to move toward an enduring state of expanded awareness. For instance, the Buddha, as he grew up, was given tremendous ego reinforcement. He was told for 29 years that he had a great destiny. As this view became embedded in his psyche, he developed the ego confidence to leave everything he had known behind and set out on his own to accomplish something he believed no person living at that time had accomplished.
Further, it was his ego that made decisions and helped organize his efforts during his six-year search for escape from the ego realm. During all those years of intense and difficult striving, part of what sustained him of was his belief in his own extraordinary possibilities, a belief that had been built into his ego conception of himself his whole life. That is the reason, after he found his answers, his teaching emphasized the importance of an ego effort, saying to his followers that if they were to achieve what he had achieved, they would have to commit themselves to his demanding practices. Nor did he say to his followers they would be free from desire during the journey; rather, he insisted that the way forward was to consciously commit to the one Great Desire — for freedom, for liberation. Desire was necessary; the crucial thing was to commit to the correct desire.
In my own experience, it is clear that such a commitment must have the cooperation of the ego, or the whole project will be constantly undermined by the ego. The small self has to help with the journey until complete freedom is reached. Jesus, Confucius, Mohammed, and almost every other spiritual teacher gave the same message: They all advocated decisions, actions, and practices that the ego had to embrace and organize one’s life around. For the journey to fulfillment to succeed, the ego is an essential ally.
Skeptico: Tell me again why the ego would help in diminishing its own importance?
Wisdom Seeker: According to Henry David Thoreau: “When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence.” He goes on to suggest that in our daily lives we mostly focus on “petty fears and petty pleasures,” which are “but the shadow of the reality.” When, however, we glimpse great and worthy things, we wake to a greater reality that is “exhilarating and sublime.”
Thus, using Thoreau’s imagery, a person who has once experienced the sublime knows that the ego has always been organized around “petty fears and petty pleasures.” With this realization, the ego itself begins to sense that it has been focused on the “shadow of reality.” The small self begins to realize that it can never feel “exhilarated and sublime.” With this understanding, the clouds in the mind begin to clear, there comes a glimpse of a sunlit summit sparkling and shining in the distance. During such moments, the ego realizes that there is more to life than it has thus far understood or experienced, and it feels the call to commit to a goal larger than itself.
An analogy: A self-centered sports star catches a glimpse of the importance a victory would have for the team, as well as for the broader community of supporters. In that moment, the star decides to sacrifice personal glory for team success. In the same way, an ego will sometimes agree to help organize an expedition to climb the mountain of fulfillment even though it recognizes that its own importance will be diminished if the venture succeeds. The ego recognizes that there is something of greater importance than its petty fears and petty pleasures, and chooses to align itself with a higher, ultimate goal. This is how Thoreau envisioned it:
“To him whose elastic and vigorous thought keeps pace with the sun, the day is a perpetual morning. It matters not what the clocks say or the attitudes and labors of men. Morning is when I am awake and there is a dawn in me.
“The millions are awake enough for physical labor; but only one in a million is awake enough for effective intellectual exertion, only one in a hundred million to a poetic or divine life.”
The experience of a poetic or divine life is not an experience the ego can have — ever. This is reserved for the Higher Self, or perhaps a part of us beyond anything the word “self” can capture. Moving into this place means that a larger “I” has become the center of awareness, an identity that is much larger than the individual. The role of the ego in this journey is to recognize that there is a greater purpose to which it can commit its abilities, and that only by doing so will it be able to fulfill its true purpose — to help the whole being become part of or merge with “something larger.” If the ego is convinced this goal is important enough, it will organize an expedition to the mountaintop so that the whole being can rest in a state that is “exhilarating and sublime.”