Ego Death

by Stephen Levine

The day I awoke with no center of gravity, my heart knew it had blown its mind. There was an open cauldera where once my haircut neatly grew.

I seemed a cartoon character of myself dreamed up to keep the mind from being bored.

When in 1975 I went through the dark night of our collective grief while studying with Sujata, it was only the first of that sort of . . .

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