Ego in I Am That shows up as the grand architect of separation—an elaborate self-portrait painted with memories, desires and fears. Nisargadatta Maharaj treats it like a costume actor: dazzling at first glance, but entirely made of borrowed feathers. In dialogue after dialogue, ego is the constant chatter that insists, “I am limited, I need more, I must defend this little “me.”

Calling it a mirage isn’t overstating things. The “I” clings to stories about the past and projections into the future, blind to the ever-present “I Am” that underpins all experience. Maharaj repeatedly points the spotlight on awareness itself, showing how every anxious thought or prickly emotion loses its grip once attention rests as pure being. It’s like watching ripples on a pond vanish when the mind stops throwing stones.

Modern mindfulness cultures—streaming into yoga studios, meditation apps and Instagram reels—reflect this same rediscovery. Awareness practices seen on Headspace or Calm echo Maharaj’s insistence on observing egoic patterns without feeding them. Peel back layer after layer of identification—family role, career label, social media persona—and what remains is the untouched Self he calls home.

Rather than slapping ego away as a villain, these teachings invite witnessing its antics with gentle curiosity. Eventually, the ego’s bragging voice loses all its punch. With every “Who am I?” inquiry, the façade loosens until simply being—no roles, no stories—feels as natural as breathing. In that spacious silence, ego dissolves, revealing the timeless spark that never sought identity in the first place.