Trying To Delete Yourself Is A Great Way To Take Up More Room

There is a particular type who has decided the ego must go. Very sincere about it. Reads about it, sits with it, mentions it at dinner. And somehow, after all that work, there is more of them in the room than when they started, not less. The project of getting rid of yourself is staffed entirely by yourself, and the staff love a big project.

Watch the sentence: I want to dissolve this. Who is the I? Same one. It has simply changed departments — from acquiring things to acquiring humility, which turns out to be an even better collectible because nobody can see it and you can imply you have loads.

Then come the ranks. Beginners and advanced. Those who have got somewhere and those still fumbling about. It is the office hierarchy again, moved indoors, with softer lighting and worse coffee. Any arrangement where somebody is further along is the ordinary world with incense on top.

None of this means the wanting is shameful. It just means the wanting is worth looking at rather than upgrading. Watch how it moves: the small comparison, the quiet scorekeeping, the way you check whether you are doing well at not caring about doing well.

What is left is unglamorous. No level, no badge, nobody at the front. Just enough attention to notice the machinery running, which is a lot less impressive than dissolving the self and considerably more likely to happen on a Tuesday.