The Ego

I’m hungry, It said. Feed me.

Like a Devil-Baby, It nags at the back of the mind. I didn’t know what to do – and yet, I identified with It.

I too, was hungry.

Who am I? It asked me.

It felt like a trick question. You are not your thoughts, I answered.

It didn’t like that. Rearing its ugly, horned head, It screamed:

I am what you make me!

This was hard to deny, so I paused. Then I said:

I would like to make you go away.

I would like for you to relinquish control. For you to step away from the steering wheel.

I would like for you to cease the obsession about the past and the projection into the future.

I would like for you to understand that the world is fleeting, and the attempt to seek yourself and long-lasting fulfillment in this fleeting world will only lead to suffering.

And I would like for you to just be – in the now, in the present.

That’s a paradox, It answered. We’re at a Mexican standoff. I am your “I”. I am you. You cannot have me and be free of me. You cannot have it all.

But you are not me, I said.

I am the watcher. You are the mind.

I am the watcher. You are the voice.

I am the watcher. You are the phantom self.

I am the watcher. You are the imposter.

I am the truth. The timeless, perfect, formless awareness. You are the incessant, the unaware, the illusionary dimension.

In the darkness It subsided, and I was momentarily free.