The reason our ego disappears when we investigate it in this way is that it does not actually exist even now, but merely seems to exist when we are looking elsewhere instead of at ourself alone. 

–Michael James, in reference to the teaching of Sri Ramana Maharshi (my emphasis)

There’s something very peculiar about the apparent existence of an ego-identity. I take–indeed, can take–myself to be an ego-I only when I am “looking elsewhere.” That is, only when I look elsewhere (at an object) can it seem as if the one doing the looking is an ego.

For example, when I am captivated by thinking, so long as I am so captivated by this object (i.e., thought) I seem to take myself to be a thinker. “I am the thinker” would be the misidentification, if it were capable of speaking. (But it’s not.)

Also strange is the fact that this misidentification, which (as we’ve said) can only occur when I “look elsewhere,” seems to be conscious but is actually inert. That is, the “I am the thinker” seems to be a conscious entity, and yet it’s only an inert thought-arising. There’s nothing more to this experience than a thought, and this thought can’t, itself, turn back around and reflect upon itself. The thought, in fact, can do nothing more than appear.

Two strange facts have been discovered. One, when I look elsewhere, I seem to identify myself with the looker (or thinker) and thus seem to become an ego. Two, while it seems as if this ego is actually conscious, it’s only a mere appearance. To which we should add a third: when the attention then “turns around” and is directed only at the ego-I, what’s amazing (or self-evident) is that there’s no such thing as this ego-I. This last point needs to be unpacked.

When I am attending only to myself (that is, when I cease looking elsewhere and thus concentrate only on what I, allegedly, am), what is surprising is that I don’t find any thing–any something–there. I find neither an object nor an individuated subject. There’s, quite literally, not a thing there.

For a time and due to strong habitual tendencies (“samskaras”), this recognition may seem frail, dim, or–in any case–not like much. Yet every time I turn the attention around and hone in on myself alone, the delusion we call “ego” withers away. What remains is nameless peace.