Your ego will tell you lots of enticing things.
It will tell you that you need to have goals.
That once you hit that money milestone or get to that perfect weight or find the perfect husband – that then you will have made it.
Then you will be happy.
Then you will have what you want.
Most people spend their entire lives chasing this.
I used to get really sucked into it. Like, not even a long time ago. Just last year.
The wanting to win.
The butt workouts and the monthly income goals.
I thought I was aware of my ego. But really it had just sneakily shifted forms.
Created better excuses. Crafted more convincing stories.
Something I have been playing a lot with lately is noticing where I am externally oriented instead of internally oriented.
Where I am looking to get a certain reaction from others, to achieve a certain goal, or to get something I think I need.
And what I realized a few months ago is that – even though my internal knowing has led the major parts of my life – pretty much everything else I was doing was still externally oriented.
It was like – surprise!! And then everything came crashing down.
I’ve been working with the pieces of me that were made wrong as a child.
Which was pretty much everything that was not linked to an external success.
My knowings, my feelings, my essence – those weren’t really allowed.
But the things I did for approval were.
So I excelled. At sports and school and anything I did. And I learned to make myself wrong instead.
The things I did were good. The reactions I learned to have were good. But my deepest, truest feelings?
The things we think we want are not what we actually desire.
I hit my income “goal” in July and it was the biggest letdown ever.
You know why?
Because even though I wanted it to be impressive to others… in the deepest part of my body I still felt like something was missing.
I was like, oh, that’s not what I wanted at all.
I realized: I do. not. Want. this at the expense of ignoring the truest, most wild part of me.
I started working with a new mentor in August and it’s felt like I’ve gone through a thousand ego deaths.
I know there are still more to come.
Funnily enough I made way more money after that than I ever did before. And it didn’t matter.
I feel clear with money. Because money is no longer what I was projecting onto it.
This happened with every area of my life.
I lost literally almost every single one of my friends.
I realized I was just playing out my childhood pattern with everyone. Of wanting to be impressive.
But I was missing being deeply seen by other people who could actually meet me.
I stopped going to the gym. Partially because of covid, yes – but also because I started wondering – what am I making this mean about me?
Why did I feel so attached to the need to be strong? What would it mean if I no longer had visible muscles?
I could trick myself with “my body feels better this way.” But what I am currently more curious about is – who am I without it?
“Who am I without this” has been a major question that has run my life. I find it to be one of the most valuable ones.
Who am I without my brother?
Who am I if I don’t live in Pennsylvania?
Who am I if I don’t teach yoga?
Who am I without my belief that men are terrible?
Just a few past pieces from my life.
Jordan and I have been going through these ego deaths together, recently.
Something that happens in relationship whenever you reach a big transitional moment – particularly in a conscious relationship – is that all your ego stuff surfaces to prevent it from happening.
We have been preparing to buy a house together.
Jordan’s ego story is that he should just make millions and see sex workers and never have to be vulnerable with a woman ever.
Mine is that maybe I will travel the world and never have a home base and be single always and I’m not made to commit to things.
They show up in feeling pulled back or disgusted or irritated.
They are not true.
Just ego chatter. At the root of them is sadness and fear.
I realized when reading a book the other day that in the absence of all of these pieces, all these things falling away
That what I have been left with somehow is this sense of enough.
The money I have is enough, my body is enough, my beingness is enough.
It’s quiet, this feeling.
It feels like in some ways it is just waking up.
I used to think the word “enough” was a little bit annoying. Like, why focus on having enough?
Why not focus on having everything you could possibly want?
But what’s funny is that I do have everything I could possibly want.
Because everything I have is actually enough.
There is endless possibility from this place.
I can feel it.
Sometimes it feels as if the whole earth is saying “oh thank you. Thank you for listening to us.”
All the plants and trees and soil.
That pulse in my body.
That is the same as the Knowing in you.
In the truth of things.
It doesn’t come from the noise out there.
It comes from in here.
This state of being.