Imagine your brain is like a really cool superhero costume.
It has a mask that helps you know who you are. Maybe you’re “Jess the Teacher,” or “Mike the Mountain Biker,” or “Sam Who’s Dressed in Perfectly-Matching Outfits.” That mask is your ego—-the story you tell yourself (and the world) about who you are.
Now, imagine what happens if you take off the mask.
Did you disappear? Nope! You’re still there… But now, instead of seeing just just your little story, you start to see everything else more clearly. The stars, the trees, your breath, your weirdly loud neighbor, even your own feelings start to become more present and noticeable. That’s kind of what ego death is. It’s not actual death. It’s more like a software reboot for your sense of self.
Okay But… What Is Ego?
In psychology, the ego is basically your “me filter.” It helps you organize your life:
“I like peanut butter, not jelly.”
“I’m bad at math but good at karaoke.”
“I’m a teacher.”
“I’m the goofy one.”
“Don’t cry during this meeting, you’re a professional.”
Sigmund Freud (the guy who invented the couch-therapy cliché) said we have three parts: the id (wants), the superego (rules), and the ego (the referee). The ego helps you survive in society by keeping things stable and making choices based on identity.
BUT…the ego gets really attached to its job. It thinks it is you. That’s like your phone’s GPS thinking it’s a person just because it knows where to go.
Ego Death: When the Filter Cracks
Ego death is a moment, sometimes brief, sometimes long, when that “me filter” goes offline. It often happens during:
Meditation or breathwork
Psychedelic experiences (more on that in a sec…)
Moments of extreme beauty, fear, or awe (ie: near-death experiences, the birth of a child, etc.)
Existential crises or spiritual awakenings
In those moments, people often say things like:
“I felt one with everything.”
“Time didn’t exist.”
“I forgot who I was, but it wasn’t scary—it was peaceful.”
As woo-woo as it sounds, brain scans (hooray for science!) show that during ego death, especially on psychedelics like psilocybin or LSD, the default mode network (DMN) in the brain quiets down. The DMN is basically your brain’s narrator. It connects memories, plans, and the “me story.”
When the DMN chills out, other parts of the brain talk to each other more freely. It’s like the middle manager stepping out of a meeting so the rest of the team can get creative, share ideas, and be their true selves.
But Isn’t That… Terrifying?
Sometimes, yes. Especially if the ego thinks it’s actually dying. It’ll throw a tantrum: “WHAT’S HAPPENING? WHO AM I? AM I A CLOUD??”
But with the right support (therapists, integration guides, or experienced practitioners), it often turns into one of the most meaningful experiences of a person’s life.
In fact, Johns Hopkins researchers found that many people ranked their ego death experiences, especially on psychedelics, as one of their top five most important life events, right up there with getting married or having kids. As someone has has personally experienced all of these life events (ego death included), I would say that sentiment definitely resonates.
So Why Would Anyone Want Ego Death?
Because the ego, while useful, can get a little… clingy. It loves labels, status, fear, and control. It tells you:
“Don’t try that. You’ll look dumb.”
“You’re not good enough.”
“Just keep grinding, then you’ll be worthy.”
Ego death isn’t about erasing your identity forever. It’s more like taking off your tight shoes and realizing: Ohhh, I didn’t know I was uncomfortable until now.
People often come back with more compassion, less fear, and a deeper sense of connection. Connection to themselves, to others, to nature, to mystery. They still have an ego, but it’s a little more humble. A little kinder. Like it finally took a nap.
Departing Lessons For My Inner Five-Year-Old:
Your ego is like a superhero mask.
Ego death is taking it off and realizing you’re still awesome, just… part of something bigger.
It can feel weird or scary, but also amazing and freeing.
Science backs this up: your brain literally changes when this happens.
You come back a little lighter, with more wonder and less noise.
No need to chase it. But if it finds you? Be gentle. Be curious. And, if you can, let go for a moment.
You’re still you. Just a little more… infinite.