The Me Habit
Anyone who has tried to quit an addiction knows the strange math of it.
Stopping takes no time at all. Simply never have another one. That's it. And yet … almost nobody quits that way.
Not because it's hard to understand. Because it's so ingrained. So automatic. So woven into the day that the hand moves before we've decided anything.
The me works the same way.
We could step out of it in an instant. No practice, no years of effort. Just never pick it up again.
But that's rarely how it goes. More often we get a glimpse. A moment with no me in it. No stress, no struggle, no story. Utterly quiet.
And then, almost without noticing, we reach. A worry. A grievance. A boredom. Some small piece of drama to light up and inhale. And the me is back, comfortable and familiar.
No shame in that. It's what a craving does.
The glimpse still happened. And each time we notice the hand moving, the grip loosens a little.
No need to rush any of it. The me remains, but its purpose shifts. As we read in A Course in Miracles:
Fear not that you will be abruptly lifted up and hurled into reality. Time is kind, and if you use it on behalf of reality, it will keep gentle pace with you in your transition.