I met with a friend a few weeks ago. They were invested in my well-being and it felt glorious that they wanted to take time out of their life to support me.

We chose a lovely spot, ordered amazing food and sipped away at coffees and teas seemingly without a care in the world. I had no agenda except to be loved and everything felt right . . . for a moment.

In this friend's attempt to love and support me with their best intentions, their own life, it seemed, had been recently thrown into chaos. Still reeling from the shock of it all, they shared their story in broken shards of emotion while intentionally trying to focus on me.

And then, as if lightning struck my heart, I recognized what was happening. The searing pain made me wince and for a moment, I was back to one of my lowest places, reminded that I had survived something like this before.

I believe we all must experience ego deaths in order to grow. I have had many and will continue to as long as I am leaning in to learning more, knowing more and wanting to be better.

As I sat across from the table witnessing my friend's distress, it felt familiar. It made me recall my own attempts to focus on others while my world was falling apart. Perhaps to feel the part of noble martyr and at least to deflect the attention of others. It was a small place I had to squeeze myself into to survive but I did and they will too.



The usery I felt from my friend that day was well accepted as I too needed to use others to grasp at the slippery walls of my conscientiousness in those times. My friends and family were the necessities of my travels to know myself more. It meant that they did not always receive my best but the unspoken contract between us meant it was reciprocal. 

We all need people to help and hold us when we cannot. The only way to survive an ego death is to not do it alone. Solitude kills the human while connection makes it thrive.