The Ego and the Black Hole

Before birth, the shaping begins.
A spark of soul descends into matter — from pure energy into form, from light into flesh.
It does not fall into a neutral space, but into the waters of the mother.
And water has memory. It carries emotion, vibration, story.
Already, the soul is touched by resonance, by the lives around it, by love and by fear.
By the time we take our first breath, the shaping has already begun.

From Soul to Survival

When we are born, we arrive helpless — our instincts still unformed, our awareness open and impressionable, like unwritten code waiting to be shaped.

We cannot turn in our bed, we cannot feed ourselves, we have no access to the language of our parents. We must learn everything from zero.

Out of the womb, our first reference points are our caregivers. They give us a name, a role, a place in the story. They tell us who we are, what we can’t do, what we should feel. And we quickly learn how to earn their approval, because their approval means survival: food, protection, love — or what seems like love.

The problem is: our parents are already ego-identified. Which means that even their deepest love comes with conditions. Not because they don’t love us — but because they, too, once had to bend into the shape that was demanded of them. And so we grow into the same mold. We become the piece that fits the empty space in the family system, To belong, we adapt. To be safe, we perform.

This is how ego is born: not as an enemy, but as an adaptation. It is the identification with our body and its story. At first, it is our friend. It keeps us alive. It ensures we fit in. But the cost is high: we begin to live from the outside in. We forget what it feels like to move from the inside out — from truth, from essence, from our own form.

The result is a constant sense of lack. A black hole deep inside, always hungry, never filled. We mistake this emptiness for ourselves. We chase after love, but what we call “love” is often only need: a hunger for attention, affirmation, safety. True love — the kind that flows freely, that gives instead of grasps — is beyond the ego’s reach.

So we try to fill the hole. With partners, success, food, cars, status. And when that isn’t enough, we construct new identities. Today, we even build digital selves — flawless reels, curated profiles, a shining mask for the world. At its most desperate, the ego hides behind words — debating gender, clinging to spelling — as if the perfect label could fill the emptiness inside.

But there is a gift in all this forgetting: it gives us the chance to return. To see through the Octopus’s Grip, to recognize the code we once wrote. To realize that what once protected us is now the very thing holding us back from our true potential.

The moment we see this, something shifts. The program we once set in place loosens its hold. The black hole is revealed not as truth, but as an echo — a residue of separation. And we remember: what we’ve been searching for outside has been with us all along.

If we truly want to reveal who we are, we must dismantle our identities one by one. It asks for everything: courage, honesty, and help. On this path, being merely “nice” can even be dangerous. We need people willing to call out our blind spots — lovingly, even if it hurts.#

From Identity to Essence

When we begin to see what the ego truly is, and even glimpse that it can be laid down layer by layer, that is the beginning of the end of suffering. The process itself offers no shortcuts — it asks for patience and devotion. Spiritual practice and guidance, meditation, shadow work — all of these are vital if we truly wish to reach the end of the path within this lifetime

This is something we do, and it may also serve you as a practice:

When you encounter something that feels interesting but you’re not sure whether it is true for you, try this: for a moment, pretend it was yours and try it on the way you would try on a piece of clothing. Feel how it sits on your skin, how it colors your body, how it moves your breath. And then choose: keep it for a while, or lay it aside.

Because this is how we learn to release. What begins with words on the surface can, over time, reach the deeper layers. Until even the old garments of ego can finally be taken off, one by one.

And when all the layers fall silent, only one truth remains:
I am not the body. I am not even the mind.