Ego in Vestments: The Steamroller We Mistake for Spirit
The most dangerous carnal desire isn’t lust, it’s domination.
The Spark Behind This Scroll
This scroll is drawn from my study notes while listening to
’s PRACTICING LIVING PRESENCE: Discovering the Mind of Christ Within. In this audio teaching, Cynthia engages Kabir Helminski’s Living Presence. What I’m doing here is revisiting the points that stood out most to me. Cynthia’s core claim is sharp and unforgettable: Jesus didn’t hand out theology, he ignited Presence. And the Sufi language of the “self of compulsion” gave me a way to see how domination still hides under our religious and cultural skins.
Meet the Self of Compulsion
The Sufis name it straight: the self of compulsion. The hungry ghost that always wants more, always needs to grab, hoard, win. Lust is child’s play compared to this beast. The real carnal desire is power.
It doesn’t just live in dictators or Silicon Valley bros. It lives in me when I angle a conversation so I come out on top. It lives in you when you polish your image online. It lives in pulpits where scripture becomes cover for empire.
The genius of compulsion is disguise. It never walks in naked. It slips on virtue, productivity, even holiness. It knows how to pass for sacred.
Steamrollers in Sacred Drag
Compulsion is crafty. It rarely shows up as raw greed. It dresses itself in vestments, incense, even silence. The costumes change, but the engine underneath keeps roaring.
Church edition: Jesus’ fire was buried under Rome’s concrete. Presence was swapped for control. Bishops traded their sandals for steamrollers.
New Age edition: Manifest your soulmate, your Tesla, your beachfront condo. Translation: prayer as vending machine. Same compulsion, just with mood lighting.
Contemplative edition: Ego sneaks into prayer too. My “deep silence” becomes a badge. My service mutates into control.
The robe doesn’t matter. If compulsion holds the wheel, it is still the same bulldozer.
Why Domination Feels So Good
Domination tastes sweet at first. It hands the ego what it craves and sells it as salvation.
Certainty. Mystery is unbearable. If I can call the shots, I never have to wait or listen. Control replaces trust and I name it faith.
Security. Vulnerability feels like crucifixion. If I dominate, I get to armor up. I pretend I cannot be pierced. But the armor that shields me also strangles me.
Superiority. The terror isn’t failure, it is nothingness. Domination whispers that if I am louder, richer, holier, I will never disappear. It props me on a throne built from other people’s backs.
And yes, it works for a time. Empires rise on it. Armies march with it. Churches grow fat on it. Even spiritual brands thrive on it.
But domination cannot grow a soul. It builds scaffolding without a house. The moment Presence shows up, the whole structure shakes. Because Presence refuses to play by ego’s rules.
Presence vs. Power
What Jesus offered was not power, it was Presence. He cracked people open so they saw their own true self staring back.
Our culture cannot tell the difference. It thinks Presence is charisma, energy, intensity. Helminski calls that sensitive energy, the thrill of being swept away. But true Presence is not intensity. It is spacious. It roots. It does not consume.
Domination cannot deliver this. Presence is not another tool of control. Presence begins when control dies.
When Manifesting Turns into Manipulation
Manifesting culture is compulsion dressed in affirmations. Visualize harder, script the future, hack the universe.
It skips the ache. Instead of walking through remorse, that holy heartbreak that cracks us open, it teaches us to strong-arm reality with mantras.
Remorse is the portal. Compulsion is the detour. Manifesting without surrender is just the ego bulldozing toward burnout.
Empire-Building Spirituality
History is full of steamrollers in robes. Rome turned Jesus into an institution. Crusaders weaponized him. Prosperity preachers monetized him.
The deepest heresy is not sexual scandal or doctrinal slip. It is domination wearing sacred clothes. That is what nailed Jesus down then, and it is what keeps crucifying him now.
Apprenticing the Bulldozer
So what do we do with compulsion? We don’t nuke it. We apprentice it.
Self-observation is the work. Watch the steamroller rev without shame. Name it when it shows up. Laugh when it struts around in holy drag.
The ego is not evil, but it is not the CEO. It is an intern. Useful, but not ready to run the house.
Presence alone belongs in charge.
The Spiral, Not the Ladder
Cynthia says transformation is not a ladder, it is a spiral. We circle back to the same compulsions again, only from deeper ground each time.
That is why remorse matters. The ache, the failure, the humiliation of seeing ourselves—these are the cracks where light gets in.
Compulsion thinks power will save us. Presence says: lose and you will find.
Every collapse is an invitation to surrender.
Presence as Resistance
Presence isn’t self-care. It isn’t me-time with scented candles. Presence is mutiny.
This world runs on domination. Bigger numbers, louder voices, shinier profiles. Steamroller logic. Crush or be crushed. Presence looks it in the eye and says no.
To choose being over branding is to refuse turning your life into an ad campaign.
To rest instead of hustle is to break the spell that worth equals output.
To let go instead of control is to cut the machine’s fuel line.
To stay vulnerable instead of armored is to walk unarmed into a battlefield and trust love anyway.
It looks small. A breath. A pause. Eyes that refuse to flinch. But in a world drunk on domination, such stillness is scandal.
Presence is rebellion at the root. Every time we refuse compulsion, we announce that empire is not the final word.
The Fire That Still Burns
At the heart of the Gospels is not theology but testimony, memories written in blood and fire of people who met their own Alpha and Omega in Jesus. That is the thread Cynthia and Helminski hand back to us.
The ego wants systems, monuments, empires. Jesus calls us into fire. Not fire that dominates, but fire that burns away compulsion until only Presence remains.
The steamroller cannot take us there. Only surrender can.
So stop asking, “How much can I control?” Ask instead, “How deeply am I here?”
Because when Presence drives, the bulldozer finally stalls.
✦ Before You Slip Back Into the Illusion ✦
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Credits
Thanks to DALL-E for the cover art
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Can I get a more precise definition of presence? What values or perspectives characterize it? Looking for more tangible attributes to help me better understood
I’m wondering if dominance might be like a gateway vice of sorts to bigger and greater vices. The power leads to more opportunity for lust, greed, or aggression. It’s like expanding the house to welcome in more unsavory guests and then allowing them to bring their friends. Like dominance is fine on its own, but the party really gets going when you’ve got more room, more buddies, and loud music to distract from presence.