Wouldn’t it be great if we could fix America’s suffering of chaos and disarray? But how? The venomous president, the violent protests, and the incomprehensible injustices: these are all symptoms of a disease no one seems to able to get a handle on. And how is this country to lead the world when it has fallen so low? The only answers I have involve the only person I can control: myself. And each solution I find starts with one action: the proper care and treatment of that pesky troublemaker named ego.
The ego tells us we are good. It tells us we are bad. It tells us we need more. It says we have too much. While it’s supposed to control the floodgates of our self-centered emotions, it can overtake the dry ground on which stands individual talent. Therein is where ego inflicts its greatest harm.
Now, mastering the art of ego is not my forte’; I fail to meditate, nor do I fully grasp the teachings of the enlightened few who have the ability “be” without ego in control. However, the infection crippling America is no longer hiding elusively under the skin, where ego buries itself. It’s burst into plain site. And thus, our best chance at recovery lies in the effort of each of us to at least try to care for our own egotistical sores.
Obvious is the rampant egotism we read about daily, given the mental state of the president. Favorite words such as beautiful, tremendous, incredible, great, and fantastic are not used to describe tangible objects, but rather promised intangible benefits, assured to those who follow. For everyone else, there is disaster. The ego on display here demands that any “unbelievable” outcome reflects only the “fantasticness” of the self to such degree all the world shall envy it.
Far less obvious and far more prevalent is the egotism that hinders the majority of the people I know. Called humility, it is the opposite of boastfulness. It is the squashing of our own talent with modesty. These people, like I, suppress the best of who they really are, for reasons that are hard to understand. Here the ego demands that we avoid casting an image into the mirror, fearing any reflection, negative and positive, that will surely come back, visible for all to see.
The real me is an artist. The real me appreciates creativity that flows from other people. The real me cares about the real people around me. Yet, I offer too little of this to the world. My ego blocks much of it before it gets out.
Therefore, I submit that the majority of us subconsciously refuse to let our individual talents shine, whether they be artistic, analytical, emotional, mechanical, etc. And quite often, the greater the talent, the greater the suppression.
Why? Is it because we were taught not to brag? Is it because we don’t want to intimidate those less talented? Because we don’t want to be associated with the boastful lot? Or are we just plain afraid of just how good we are?
Americans judge, no doubt. A clear symptom of our ego disease is present in the popularity of television shows such as Big Brother, Top Chef, or America’s Got Talent. Capitalists have tapped into an affinity to judge with entertainment such as this. They further pad profits by reducing expenditures once paid to writing talent for creating the programs, the sitcoms, the documentaries, the prime time fictional dramas these reality television shows have replaced. The result: the public owned airwaves are clogged with stages set to show a supreme winner rise above all the rest. Characters are teased into participation with the possibility of a huge payout, like a lottery, wherein all contributions are funneled to one. We judge; ego wins.
Yet, when it comes to REAL life, who among us cares to compete? How many times have you been given a positive comment that you respond to with an argument? Like the proper hero we declare, “No, it was just part of the job.” How many times have you belittled your own creation after someone compliments on it favorably? “It’s really not that good,” we say and then go on to point out its flaws in order to enlighten the observer to all its ugly imperfections. Forget competing, we don’t even remember how to accept a positive sentiment with grace. This is ego.
Further, how many times have you held back from caring about a stranger when your inner light begs you to help them? Maybe you see an elderly man struggling to load his groceries into his trunk. You know you can help, but before you offer you look around to see if anyone is watching, like weakened prey scanning for a predator. This, too, is ego.
We are each good at some things and bad at others. While pretending otherwise, America has sadly become a culture in which it is better to accentuate faults than spotlight strengths. And so it is our faults that we speak of freely, quickly, before others can point them out. What happens then to the endowments of the selfless, those leadership-worthy people I’d prefer to follow? They are observed in private. Their talents are cloaked in secrecy, so that no pin-holder can burst the tiny bubble of hope that tells them, “Hey, we are actually good at this.”
This is ego. And the more it sees, the more it wants. Thus, the older we grow, the more difficult it becomes to control. For some, it latches onto lavish material things. For others, it beats down compassion, logic, and art. Meanwhile, for the few enlightened ones, it is a thing that is there, something to be both recognized and ignored.
What America needs now is for us all to strive for the freedom of being our true selves. Yes, even the ignorant. Because only when we step freely can we trip on our mistakes and learn a thing or two.
I can’t fix America’s problems nor can I run away from them. All I know is that we are not who we pretend to be. We are not so harsh, so colorless, and so ugly. We are talented in a million different ways. I believe America needs us each to be our best right now. Unleash the wise. Uncover the compassion. And let the art flow.