Meditation is often seen as a path to calm or insight. But for me, it’s something more personal – it’s a practice of becoming intimate with myself. When I sit down to meditate, I meet myself. I don’t meet some perfect version of me. Not some broken, shadowy version either. Just me – as I am in that moment.
Some days, I meet a restless mind that jumps from one thing to the next. Other days, I meet exhaustion, tension, doubt. And sometimes, I meet something quieter – stillness, ease.
Whatever shows up, it’s all me.
Meditation, to me, is a practice of becoming intimate with myself.
By intimacy, I mean feeling at home in my own skin – radiating warmth to whatever part of me is showing up, even if it’s anxious, angry, tired, or unsure.
It’s a bit like sitting in front of a mirror, but instead of just noticing what I see, I stay with it. I choose not to look away.
Of course, that brings up a big question: If I’m meeting myself, who’s the one doing the meeting?
This is where it’s helpful to conceive two aspects of us in meditation: the Ego-Self and the Observer-Self.
The Ego-Self is the part of us that’s full of stories and habits – how we define ourselves, how we make sense of the world, what we think we need to control or protect. It’s the part that says, I need to fix this, or I don’t like how this feels, or I need to prove something.
So when you’re sitting and making mental to-do lists, replaying a conversation, or imagining a better version of yourself, that’s the Ego-Self doing its thing. It’s not wrong – it’s just familiar.
The ego helps us function in the world. But when we are overcome with what I call Ego-Myopia – so caught up in self that we can’t see beyond it – we lose touch with the bigger picture. That’s when we forget there’s more to us than these old patterns.
That’s where the Observer-Self comes in.
Sometimes, in meditation, you’ll notice: My mind is racing right now, or There’s a tightness in my chest, or Wow, I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed.
The moment you see what’s happening instead of being lost in it, something shifts.
That part of us that notices? That’s the Observer-Self. It doesn’t judge or fix – it just sees.
I like to think of it like this: the Ego-Self is caught inside the storm, and the Observer-Self is the part that can stand outside and say, Oh, it’s storming. Shifting from being inside the swirl to being beside it is the blossoming of self-awareness.
During the pandemic I had a powerful experience of this very distinction. I was feeling intense anxiety, almost on the edge of a panic attack, to the point that I would wake up at 3am with damp sweat on my forehead. I felt an immensely compelling urge to escape – to move, distract, fix. But instead, on one such 3am witching hour, I left my bed and sat on the cushion. And I stayed with myself.
For just under two hours, I kept company with that anxiousness. I didn’t try to change it or talk myself out of it. I just stayed. Observer-Self activated, I met myself in that moment and stayed close.
And something shifted – not the anxiety itself, but my relationship to it. Staying put meant I wasn’t running anymore; I wasn’t hating or resenting the anxiety. After all, where can I run to, really? As I sat and met myself, I was there, with myself, and I felt the gap between me and anxiousness close. As the distance narrowed, the texture of my emotions changed, too. Where disgust and distain reigned, now trust and warmth arose, and my nervous system soothed.
That’s intimacy. That’s the heart of this practice.
The awareness of the Observer-Self is powerful – but it’s not enough on its own. It’s like turning on a light in a room. You see what’s there, but you haven’t moved anything yet.
If I notice I’m being self-critical, and then immediately criticize myself for being critical, I’m just looping. The shift happens when I notice – and then stay. Gently. Without turning away. Accepting. Welcoming. Shunning the tendency to separate myself from myself. Becoming intimate. Integrating.
This is why I don’t subscribe to dissolving, killing, or getting rid of the ego. The ego isn’t a problem – it’s just not the whole of who we are. The problem is when we forget that we’re more than our ego story and we sink into our conditioned Ego-Myopia, and lose the space around it.
Meditation honors and cultivates that space. And in that space, the edges of the ego soften. Old habits loosen. And slowly, we find more room inside ourselves to meet all of us. We welcome us home to the intimacy of acceptance and belonging.
Over time, meditation has become less about doing it “right” and more about meeting myself fully, honestly, and with kindness.
So, keep showing up. Keep meeting yourself. Not to fix or perfect anything, but to be intimate with yourself – to become someone you know, someone you trust, and someone you love.