Just to be yourself, without any masks at all, that is one of the most difficult things.
Even by yourself in your house, still you hear the society's voice in your head, telling you how you should act, how you should be, what you should think....
Doing housework in your underwear? Don't be ridiculous!
Going to the bathroom with the door open? How disgusting!
Sitting around in your PJs all day? What laziness!
Or even better still: sitting around doing absolutely nothing, just meditating...Going in to discover your true identity, the nothingness that one is...
"No way! Too scary," says the ego secretly. "That would mean seeing all the falsities and lies that I've constructed and twisted so well around myself. That would mean accepting full responsibility for creating all that I am. That would mean seeing the game that I have been playing with myself, that the ego "I" must be recreated in every moment in order to exist. NO, that would mean... the death of "me."
Aloud the ego says, the ego admits to oneself, "What nonsense, when there are so many other distractions out there. All these masks are just roles you play. You are the one in control."
And who is this "you?" Ah yes, ego talking to itself! Ego is always so bonded with power, with control, so fond of saying NO.
Yes, ego is clever, very clever, but not intelligent.
Accept it. Accept the part you have been playing, that it is only a part in this Leela (drama) called life. One becomes so attached to the roles one plays, to the masks one wears...See how they change, how what one calls "self" (ego) is so fragmentary.
Bring some awareness.
Meditation IS the key; one lit candle and darkness is banished.
Just see the ego for what it is...
With meditation one starts to gather courage and starts removing the masks. It hurts. Some of them seem like they are stuck to the skin. It hurts.
Acceptance wanes and resistance comes again, attachment never far away. But slowly, as masks are peeled away, as courage is built, as acceptance gathers strength, freedom of oneself as one is, glimmers like a pure reflective mirror at the end of a dark tunnel. One taste of orgasmic freedom is like a drop in the ocean that sings its siren song to take the journey to the other shore...
...Where the form within the molded clay shows it formless self to be the ocean in a drop of water...