How distinction gives rise to the phantoms of ego—and the illusion of self is born. Read time approx. 6 minutes.
We’ve already laid the groundwork. Unfiltered Vision introduced the nature of pure perception—non-dual and transparent. In our exploration of distinction, we saw how the unbiased separation of interwoven aspects of a single movement begins to morph into the illusion of duality, conflict, and division. Then, in our dive into the illusion of ego, we discovered that our sense of self isn’t a fixed thing, but more like a shimmer—a distortion arising from certain conditions.
But if the ego is illusion, why does it feel so concrete, so complete, so real?
Today we marry all of these concepts together to form an even deeper understanding of this mirage we call self.
Let’s recall. The Tao Te Ching reads:
“The Tao gave birth to the One.
The One gave birth to Two.
Two gave birth to Three.
And Three gave birth to the ten thousand things.”
The Two in this model is distinction—difference as difference—nothing more. So what is the nature of the Three? For the purposes of today’s lesson, we’ll keep it simple: the Three is the illusion of separation. Along with it arises conflict. Yet something else appears that we haven’t focused on closely—misinterpretation. The illusion of ego is a byproduct of all of this.
What happens when distinction gets misread?
Ego begins to form—not all at once, but as a ripple of misinterpretations. Illusory oppositions emerge. They aren’t real—but they’re felt. There are endless oppositions and misreadings. Each is a kind of fault line: an invisible tension within the structure of perception. Invariably, they fracture into full-blown identity.
Today we focus on five which hold outsized influence:
Five Phantoms of Ego
1. Self vs. World
If the birth of the Three is also the birth of the illusion of separation, then the false sense of self vs. world is the personification of this. Forget, for a moment, that there is a separate you, me, or it. Then imagine coming upon a caterpillar eating a leaf. If reality is a unified entity, you might interpret this scene as one aspect of the world evolving and sustaining itself upon another.
But division changes the dynamic. You now see a plant, at the mercy of a caterpillar.
The distinction at the heart of this is organism and environment—a boundaryless exchange between one aspect of the world and another. But separation is misread as division and conflict. A key rung in the illusion of self is set into place.
2. Now vs. Should
The illusion of time is a phantom we’re already familiar with. Some suggest that time itself is an illusion—but that’s a can of worms for another day. Still, the idea that time, itself, is a problem is undeniably an illusion.
Why do so many teachings emphasize the now? Because the now is the fulcrum—the pivot point of lived experience. Past, future, and present only make sense from here. Simply stated, when we misread the nature of the present moment, it completely disappears. The only element of time we can actually experience dissolves into the illusion of a fault line between past and future.
When time is mislabeled a problem, a narrative forms: This moment is wrong. A better one should be happening instead. That thought—should—is a label. A tension. A mental simulation. It is the line drawn in the sand between past and present. When time is left unlabeled, the separation—past, future, present—evaporates. That’s why time is best perceived, not named.
3. Self vs. Self
This phantom lies at the heart of many spiritual practices. Let’s focus on one core element: the fault line between “who I am” and “who I’m supposed to be.” Many teachings urge us to find our “true self.” But the moment we name something the “true self,” it becomes a new illusion.
This gives rise to its own narrative: I’m not there yet. I need to become more real.
We see, again, the consequence of separation. A gap is imagined between who you are and who you’re “supposed” to be. But there’s no other self waiting in the wings. Everything is whole—even in its confusion. The search for a better you creates the very gap it longs to close. That gap is the phantom.
4. Presence vs. Void
This one has many layers. On one level, the tension between presence and the void, between something and nothing, is the most basic pieces in the puzzle of the ego. It defines itself by its attachments. It collects stories, achievements, fears, desires—then guards them as evidence of identity. Believing in these things, holding them dear, is also defense mechanism for the ego. To lose them would be to lose itself. And so it clings.
But presence and void aren’t in conflict. The ego just can’t grasp that absence is not loss.
On another level, this phantom is literally a life in death scenario. The ego fears death. It knows it is a byproduct of “living.” And it’s not wrong. Thus, it is constantly protecting itself, both physically and conceptually.
The bottomline, however, is that nothing is not actually no-thing. Therefore, absence is not loss. Furthermore, just as the caterpillar must embrace stillness to transform, we must challenge the ego’s addiction to noise and movement. In stillness, something deeper stirs.
5. Permanence vs. Impermanence
This is the phantom of threat—the phantom to end all phantoms. We intuit that everything is changing—and yet we want to hold on. We want our stories to last, our moments to stay, our selves to remain. But life is change. Ego resists that truth.
This is the fault line of fear. It is the fear of loss of the familiar, as well as the fear of the unknown.
The ego is a product of life. Yet the nature of life is change. And so the tension of this phantom is both inescapable—and illusory.
A Clear Conflict
So if ego is illusion, why does it hold such a strong grip? Why does it feel so real?
The conflict between these phantom oppositions grips us. Each misreading creates a new line of tension. The moment we see through one illusion, another rushes in to take its place.
But that’s why we call them phantoms. And fault lines. The ego builds itself on unstable ground. That’s also why it’s so fragile.
Ironically, the very illusions the ego uses to justify itself obscure the truths that set us free. Stillness. Impermanence. Wholeness without division.
Ultimately, the lesson is this: the fault lines that lie at the heart of these distinctions are illusion. As is the biggest, scariest fault line of them all—the one between being and not being. Between life and death.
Correct understanding reveals the difference between distinction and division. There is no actual division—only misreading. None of this is the ego’s fault. It was never the enemy. Ego is simply a brave attempt to make sense of an overwhelming world. Something just got lost in translation.
We are in the grip of another illusion—the perception of a fractured reality. And the ego is left to piece it all back together.
So if ego is built on misinterpretation… can it be unbuilt the same way? It seems there is more to explore….
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