Pride kills itself by efforts directed to the sole benefit of others. It cannot survive in an area where thoughts for others are greater than the desire for one’s own survival, but on the other hand, desire ensures pride’s growth.
We nurture our identities through the use of pride. We WANT others to notice our identities and to exclaim in glee ‘How lovely!’. To that end, we becomes devious and crafty in all sorts of ways. Our identities deserve to be noticed, petted and coveted.
Identities make these sort of demands, but separating ourselves from the identity of ourself is sometimes confusing and obtuse. These aspects confuse us as to the separation of identity and its’ owner and to make matters worse, identities have this wonderful side effect of producing emotive experience for our enjoyment. In other words, drugs for those who just cannot get enough.
Our identities give us a ‘high’ and when these identities get noticed and validated by others, we reach new states of existence. Or so it seems. While we are totally immersed within these ‘highs’ our capacity for seeing beyond the identity becomes nil. The identity becomes all that matters.
Breaking free of the emotive experience is not always easy, but once the road is undertaken, we find that ‘reality’ takes on a totally new look. It becomes not the playground for representations of ourselves, but becomes instead, the playground of infinite creative potential. Mysterious and wondrous by its’ very nature.
Allowing Life to unfold allows one to enjoy Life to its’ fullest potential. If all we see is pride in ourselves, then that potential becomes severely diminished. Life is a fantastic experience, why not experience its’ fullness on its’ own terms instead of experiencing it through the fullness of your own identity.
Egotistically speaking, dying is just another word for doing it right.