— In the field of transpersonal psychology, we often speak about transcending ego: shedding the persona to become more of who we are, arriving at essence as we walk in this physical world, and living from a place of authenticity. It is a concept that most of us don’t fully understand and this journey is rarely an easy process. Still, it is something that is aspired to by many of us on a spiritual path.
I remember one of my colleagues, who I will call John. He was a transpersonal scholar, a researcher, and a sweet, gentle man who embodied a spiritual path that blended heart with intellect, scholarship, and learning. John announced his retirement two years early so that all of us could be ready for it. Unfortunately, he became ill with an aggressive form of cancer immediately upon leaving his position.
During his illness, John emailed his colleagues frequently with updates on his health. The researcher in him provided graphic details, both scientific and personal. We experienced a man who was metaphorically shedding his skin, a man whose body was compromised—his hair, his ability to speak, but not his voice or Soul.
This horrible illness led to his death within two years. At the time I thought about how John, a prominent researcher in the field of spiritual-based psychology, was being forced to transcend the ego, to arrive at his essence through his illness. There was irony in the notion that a transpersonal researcher, who teaches about transcending ego, was being given the ultimate test of transcendence.
Elizabeth Lesser in her book Broken Open shares a conversation with Ram Dass, a well-known spiritual teacher, that gives insight into this process following his stroke.
Lesser said: “I think that the stroke made you more human. More of a real human being and more an eternal Soul—both at the same time.”
He responded, “Grace. Stroke is heavy grace. …before—happy grace…love grace…good things kept happening to me. Then, stroke…lose things…also grace…fierce grace.” [Elizabeth asked,] “What did you lose? What did fierce grace take away?” “Ego.…Ego breaks open—then you see who you really are”
Ram Dass explained this in his own book. His attachment to ego shifted because the stroke was unbearable to his ego and the ego began to die and he began to see life through the lens of Soul.
I believe that Hal became more and more essence—Soul—as his Alzheimer’s progressed. I could see it in his vulnerability, especially in the last year of his life. I could see it in his photos during his celebration of life. Like Ram Dass, he was becoming essence and was not at all attached to things related to ego—except that his journey was much slower.
I know that I was in a process of letting go of protocol and expectation as a result of our journey through Alzheimer’s. I wondered if Hal were as well. I knew that he had to trust—me, Spirit, life. For the cognitively intact person, all of this is material for spiritual growth. Even though Hal was unable to speak at a meta-level of consciousness about what he experienced as the disease evolved, I have often wondered how much he understood at some other level and how it changed him. Do we stop growing once our mind becomes impaired, at least according to societal norms? Do we stop growing on a spiritual level? Is there an awareness that is hidden from more rational people?
I know that I have grown as a result of living with a man with Alzheimer’s. It has provided me with the opportunity to watch my beloved slowly lose his abilities—to shed his skin—slowly, over a decade. I was a witness to his authentic movement toward Soul, toward essence. I had the opportunity to watch his body and mind slowly decay and to watch him move into essence. He began dropping outward appearances, and all I could do was be present and mindful to this process. It was a learning experience for my Soul as well. I learned to accept him and my own humanness more fully. It has allowed me to surrender to what is and to love more unconditionally—to serve him in unselfish ways. I learned to give love and to recognize love through simple smiles. It taught me to simply live in the moment and accept life as it is.
