Whenever I’m daydreaming and think up a witty quote, I write it down. If I hear someone speak words of wisdom, I’ll type it in my phone.
A few years ago I was browsing the Internet at my desk at a production studio in the middle of Manhattan when I came across this:
The ego is not who you really are. The ego is your self-image; it is your social mask; it is the role you are playing. Your social mask thrives on approval. It wants control, and it is sustained by power, because it lives in fear. –Deepak Chopra
I’m not going to deny it; New York fed my ego. It caressed me, coddled me, and made me tenacious. I was officially a member of the rat race.
Until I got sick, well, sick and tired. I felt like I was unraveling, as if I was descending a circular staircase with such speed that my feet weren’t touching the stairs, that when I looked up I knew there was nothing solid to grab onto.
Because there wasn’t, my ego had sure fooled me. It told me if I did more, gave more, tried more, I would become that best version of myself. Boy, did I fall for the tricks – I worked harder, smarter, faster, longer. Until, I got sick.
Bedridden with strep throat, I had time on my hands to think, something I really hadn’t made time for as of late. On the second day of my illness, as the sun was starting to peak through my blinds, I realized all along I had been chasing my ego, playing tag with an opponent who surely could outrun me.
Now that my mind knows the difference between the voice of the ego and what I like to call the “sacred self,” I have become much better at suppressing my ego, starving my ego to feed my soul.
That doesn’t mean the ego doesn’t approach me with a “tag you’re it,” but it does mean that I no longer join in the game.