And we clear the ego from the room, for it creeps in quietly on occasion
The manager is angry; she hasn’t got her way, that’s the real issue
The mother takes offence at a school gate remark, thinks about it for days, offence growing
The writer rages that his book doesn’t sell, blames all sorts
The carer in a battle with the elderly client; she’ll discreetly make him pay for his stubbornness
The politician is trapped in a slogan – it’s who he is, he must make it work, he’ll take others down
The bishop fumes at his place in the procession; he should be nearer the back
The conversation doesn’t go the way I wish; seeking control, I force it back down my chosen path
The ego – as insecure wind-whipped sand – defines itself against something or someone
It’s all it knows; it exists by dividing
‘Divide and sulk, divide and fume, divide and self-promote, divide and blame, divide and resent…but do divide.’
So on the walk to freedom, we allow things as they are, we allow what is, ourselves and others; allow the two to become one
We leave the battlefield of needy self-promotion and the vanity of offence
Instead, we breathe in the big and wonderful air of our existence
And with self-kindness (because we’ve been here before, and will be again) clear the ego from the room, for it creeps in quietly on occasion and doesn’t help
We ease it out and close the door
Such free space remains, such laughter, such hope
