On things I dare not admit

I’m too full of myself, I think.

How does on escape the self?

How does one practice renunciation? How does one practice self-denial? How does one practice self-detachment? How does one practice the de-creation (without the destruction) of one’s ego?

If I could be friends with myself I probably wouldn’t be friends with myself.

I’m afraid that the person I’m trying so hard to avoid is the very person I am slowly becoming.

Last night was an owl moment – pun and literally intended – and I hated it. Ah, you  should have seen me! I was close to going ballistic. No, it wasn’t enough that you saw the subtle twitch in my eyes or the restrained irked expression on my face – you had to look on the inside. What was on the inside was this assumption that I was with people who didn’t have anything better to do so they could afford to stay up and do nothing, unlike me, who had loads of other things I had better do.

But then there was something that he said — casually, not to me, but just in passing, that threw a mirror right in front of my insides, enabling me to see everything that was going on rather than being the one experiencing or even causing it all. And I was appalled to see what I saw.

What he said was this – that we were with friends – no, younger siblings who needed support, who needed a community, who needed a family because they literally only had each other.

Just nothing is more appalling than someone concerned with just herself.

And again it happened today – just quite a different variation thereof.

So there’s this constant preoccupation with myself – my own needs, my own inconveniences, my way of doing things, my standards… Far too entitled, far too self-centered. I also see this in my sudden changes in mood just because I wasn’t the center of attention, or a good word wasn’t put in for me, or I wasn’t given the credit (I felt) I was due, or I wasn’t the one preferred to be with, or the conversation didn’t happen the way I wanted it to, or I was sneered at or yelled at or glared at — all of which are an assault to my ego, ergo, an assault to the totality of my being.

All of these are thorns to my heart and baggage to my soul – they pain me and weigh me down and keep me from those things I’ve always considered elusive for me – joy, gratitude, peace, presence, the enjoyment of the petals and an experience of a perpetual lightness – all the stuff I want but never seem to be capable of having.

The incapability is not because of any outward circumstance but the tyrannical self I just cannot seem to escape.

I’m still at a loss with how to escape myself.

I hope I figure it out soon. It’s getting tiring to be in this shell.


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