My Ego is not the Enemy (or, why I haven't blogged in four months)

Sounds and smells. Those are the two senses that scientists say are directly wired to the brain circumventing some of the physiological processes that the other senses go through. That’s why a song or a smell can take us instantly back to a powerful memory. Listen to an oldies station or an album from high school and prepare for a wave of emotion.

The recent release by U2, No Line on the Horizon, (NLOTH) will be locked in for me as one of those powerful catalysts of the memory. There are a number of songs that will always remind me of where I have been over the last year. There is one lyric in particular that could describe and summarize my entire summer:

I gotta stand up to ego but my ego's not really the enemy
It's like a small child crossing an eight lane highway, On a voyage of discovery

About eight months ago I began seeing a therapist on a weekly basis. I’d previously gone to a counselor on individual occasions to consult about important decisions, but I have never invested so much time learning to know myself. Why did I decide to do this? Was it due to a mid-life crisis (I’m in my mid-40s), poor health (I contracted hepatitis last year), work environment, family history, insomnia, other? I’m sure it was a combination of these – a perfect storm.

Therapy is hard work. It’s hard to stand up when the soul is tired. It’s hard to listen when the spirit has been ignored. But the work was worthwhile, like a good run on the treadmill. What was once head-knowledge has now been lived out, experienced.

During my journey I journaled. I talked to my soul and then listened for responses. And then I listened some more. What I heard was meant for me, not for others, so that will remain private. But I experienced what I’ve always “known” – journaling is a powerful conduit for soul and spirit.

I also read a lot from an unlikely trio of sources: Epictetus, Jung and Jesus. Epictetus taught me about Stoicism, about disconnecting from the materialism of this world and about influencing that which is within my control (and forgetting about the rest). Jung reintroduced me to concepts like ego, shadow, archetype, and symbolism. I learned about the conflict that emerges when the inner and the outer worlds are not congruent, and how dreams (for me) become special channels for the spirit. The title of one of Jung’s seminal works says it all: Modern Man in Search of a Soul. That’s what I am. And then there’s Jesus. What a friend, teacher, mentor, savior (in ways I never anticipated). I hope you know him.

Back to NLOTH. For the first months after its release I was completely stuck on "Moment of Surrender." That was what I needed. And I learned to find it in the most ordinary of places.

I was punching in the numbers at the ATM machine
I could see in the reflection A face staring back at me
At the moment of surrender Of vision over visibility
I did not notice the passers-by And they did not notice me

I was speeding on the subway Through the stations of the cross
Every eye looking every other way Counting down 'til the pentecost

At the moment of surrender Of vision of over visibility
I did not notice the passers-by And they did not notice me

I played with the fire, and it played with me. I was listening and hearing that my body was begging to get back "To the rhythm of my soul / To the rhythm of my unconsciousness / To the rhythm that yearns / To be released from control." I was on a journey to relinquish control, listen to heart and soul, bring unconsciousness and consciousness into sync. Still am.

Then came "Unkown Caller." On my journey I have learned to be silent and still before God, before soul. The Spirit was saying “Escape yourself and gravity.” The soul was begging, “Hear me, cease to speak.” I learned of the peace that passes all understanding when I “don’t move or say a thing.” Surrendering leads to stillness.

The third song from NLOTH in my therapeutic trilogy is “I’ll Go Crazy if I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight.” I could not sing this song at the start of my journey. I knew “the sweetest melody is the one we haven’t heard,” but I couldn’t imagine it. Bono cries, “It's not a hill, it's a mountain / As you start out the climb / Do you believe me, or are you doubting.” Doubt abounded, and all I saw was the mountain and the hard climb ahead. There was a point when I simply couldn’t listen to the last chorus of “Crazy.” There is a darkness so strong that light can’t escape, not even a glimmer, not even a spark.

Now I stand having experienced this truth: “A change of heart comes slow.” It comes through stillness and surrender. Maybe that’s why I’m looking forward to a couple of U2 concerts on my horizon. Many of my friends can't understand the experience some of us have had with this band, and I don't expect them to until they've had similar experiences. But there will be a very special moment on the NLOTH tour, probably an emotional one, and one very important lyric,

It's not a hill, it's a mountain
As we start out the climb
Listen for me, I'll be shouting
Shouting to the darkness, squeeze out sparks of light

You know we'll go crazy
You know we'll go crazy
You know we'll go crazy if we don't go crazy tonight

Looking forward to the craziness.... And ego.... And journey.... And discovery....

Comments

[dave wainscott]

Thanks so much for this honest post. Great stuff.

You know, I have seen the Tshirt, "Bono is my pastor," but we need "Bono is my therapist."
Those who don't get it, don't get how U2 lyrics and how we wrestle through them can midwife us through seasons of life.

Keep up the good Godwork

[Tim]

Thanks Dave. I guess I'd also have to have the t-shirt, "My motorcycle is my therapist!" Thanks for getting it.