The Prison of ‘Me, My & I’

I was inspired to write this after seeing a post that read: “The hardest prison to leave is the one I built to feel safe.”

 

The prison of “me, my, and I” — the identity of self. Ego. This idea of who we are can both build us up and break us down.

 

Our mind’s identification with the ego has such a grip on us that we rarely realise it’s happening. “But it’s who I am,” we say as it tightly shapes our decisions, actions, days, even years. Yet, when we become aware of this dynamic, we start to see that the ego isn’t the entirety of us.

 

Step One: Awareness

Becoming aware is the first step: noticing the endless stream of thoughts, the ego, which is essentially a library of your life’s events and experiences. And then, realising there is also you — the stillness, the observer of those thoughts.

 

I’ve had my own “prison.” Prison might seem like a heavy word, but it fits. Sometimes it was a warm and colourful prison, a space that kept me safe when I needed it. But it also stopped me from reaching beyond fear — fear of rejection or the worry that I might become “too much.”

 

The Ego as a Cassette Tape - hopefully you’re old enough to know what that is! Google is there!

 

For me, the ego is like a cassette tape. It’s been recording my life on a loop, endlessly replaying memories, habits, and beliefs. When situations arise, it calls back to similar moments and replays those stories, defining my reactions without me even realising.

 

This tape builds a narrative: “It happened to me, so I must be that.” But that’s not true.

 

Some might argue, “But the ego isn’t a bad thing.” And I agree — I’m not saying it is. However, if you don’t recognise it for what it is, it can guide you far more than you realise.

 

For years, my own ego held me back. It stopped me from fully embracing my ambitions, from allowing myself to shine. Why? Because I didn’t want to seem big-headed or arrogant.

 

To admit, “Yes, I’m good at this,” felt forbidden. I’d immediately worry that saying so meant I was putting myself above others — which couldn’t be further from the truth.

 

Compliments about my abilities often made me uncomfortable. I’d accept them only halfway, never enough to fully own them. Loving and appreciating my capability felt like a negative, like something I wasn’t allowed to do.

 

Breaking the Cycle

Things started to shift after a 10-day silent retreat. The shell of my ego — the ideas I had clung to for so long — began to crack. I started to see myself not as my thoughts or experiences, but as something deeper.

 

I realised many of the events I identified with didn’t happen “to me” in the way I believed. Some weren’t even mine to own. Slowly, I began to eject that proverbial cassette tape, stepping aside and seeing things more clearly.

 

I now understand there are three key parts:

 

The Ego: the cassette tape of memories and habits, the idea of “me.”

 

The Body: the form we inhabit, with its sensations and emotions.

 

The Observer: the true self, both everything and nothing at once.

 

This separation has been liberating, but it’s an ongoing process. For years, the ego had guided, protected, and sabotaged me all at once. Through meditation and mindfulness, I’ve learnt to focus my mind, clearing away the “dirt” that once obscured the truth.

 

The Emotional Release

Clearing that dirt is emotional. There are tears — so many tears. But they’re tears of joy, a kind of release. It feels as though heavy iron chains have broken, freeing my heart and allowing me to see the world for what it truly is.

 

It’s hard to describe. It can only be felt. But it’s life-changing.

 

Each time I’ve experienced this release, it’s been like mourning all the time I spent not seeing life clearly. And yet, after the mourning comes something beautiful: Life 2.0.

 

I know it sounds cliché, but truly, it feels like living without filters, without the false narratives I’d carried for 25+ years.

 

A Shared Experience

What fascinates me is that this experience isn’t unique to me. I’ve met others who have felt the same awakening, read books, and listened to stories of similar ego deaths. It’s not about me — it’s about the possibility that this state of mind is accessible to everyone.

Even if your ego says, “But my pain is deeper than yours,” but that’s exactly what the ego wants you to believe.

 

It’s time to eject the tape and exist in the now.

 

This work isn’t easy. It takes time, patience, and most importantly, direct experience. But I promise you — the freedom, peace, and clarity waiting on the other side are worth it.