I am almost finished reading a stunning memoir entitled Dying to Be Me by Anita Moorjani. As the title suggests, it’s about a near-death experience (NDE) the author had after fighting cancer for four years. No spoiler alert needed—she clearly lived to tell the tale. The back cover alone hints that the reader will be guided through her insights on illness, healing, fear, “being love,” and our true magnificence.

This book struck a chord with me as I’ve been doing mental gymnastics, trying to figure out how we manage to learn, grow, and transform in this accelerating world of ours without losing our sanity. I suspect it’s not about keeping up with, or outpacing, these dynamics. Maybe it’s about loosening our grip on existing frames of reference, about what we need to unlearn. I’ve been on the hunt for clues from a variety of disciplines, including the spiritual realm.

Enter Anita Moorjani’s near-death experience. Her story offered surprising insights about overcoming fear (which often inhibits our ability to be with change and uncertainty), transcending time and space, feeling one with all beings, and, perhaps most profoundly, seeing—without question—how magnificent, loved, and loving we each are. This shift allowed her to let go of previously held beliefs and trust in something new: the wisdom of the “infinite self.”

Reading this book came on the heels of hearing a talk by Joanna Macy, Buddhist scholar, systems theorist, and activist. Like Moorjani, Macy had a profound experience of oneness with humanity—not through death, but on a train in Tibet. Packed tightly with other passengers, Macy’s attempt to bring her awareness inward backfired. Instead, her consciousness expanded to encompass all of the humanity in that train car—and beyond. Recognizing the experience as something profound, she shared, “All I could do was bless the world that it had allowed me this experience…There was a quiet rejoicing in that.” This catalyzed her dharma journey and life’s work.

Together, these experiences reminded me of stories from Be Here Now by Ram Dass (born Richard Alpert), the spiritual classic that chronicles his transformation through psychedelics and later Indian mysticism. On one memorable acid trip, Ram Dass sees all his identities—professor, researcher, therapist, even his own body—disappear. And yet, his true essence stays, more alive than ever. Later, with the guidance of his guru in India, he learns to cultivate that sense of presence without the psychedelics, returning to live a more conscious and sacred life.

So now here I am, on version seven of this Sunday Share, way over my self-imposed maximum word count and hours past my send time, desperately trying to tie this up with a dazzling holiday bow. How can I connect (Near) Death, Dharma, and Drugs to succinctly answer existential questions, yours and mine, and deliver a fresh conceptual framework for the 21st-century learner?

Well, I can’t. I opened up an exploration that’s beyond the scope of my typical Sunday Share. Patty Perfectionist has been increasingly agitated, offering endless suggestions on how to alter this to deliver a clever package. My higher self, perhaps inspired by these three experiences, is encouraging me to let it be as it is. Late, long, loose, messy!

And maybe that’s my own lesson. Let go of my ego. Let people draw their own conclusions, make their own meaning. Or not. To trust that this serves in some way. Or doesn’t. To allow this to flow out there into the world without being attached to how it is perceived or received.

Here’s to your letting creativity go in the flow without ego!