Ego is to our human condition as gravity is to the physical world.

Notice how it never announces itself. Gravity is not a thing we see; it is the curvature we mistake for the shape of the world, the reason apples fall and orbits hold and light bends around what isn't there. Ego works the same way in the inner cosmos, an invisible mass that warps every perception toward a center it insists is real. We do not feel the pull as pull. We feel it as the way things obviously are, the natural slope of attention back toward me, mine, my story. And yet the moment we glimpse the warping for what it is, the geometry loosens, and the universe stops orbiting a point that was never quite there. What might float free if we stopped mistaking the bend for the floor?