Focus of the Month: Overcoming the Ego and Separation
Looking beyond the story of Rama and Ravana, and exploring the battles we all face within ourselves.
There’s a story that has been told across India and Nepal for thousands of years. It’s the story of Rama, Sita, Hanuman and Ravana, and the victory of good over evil. But what if this ancient tale is about more than a battle between a hero and a demon? What if it’s also a reflection of what happens inside each of us?
For October’s Focus of the Month, we’re exploring the deeper meaning behind this story, drawing on the teachings of Jivamukti Yoga and the idea that the path to freedom begins with understanding ourselves.
The ten heads of Ravana
In the epic Ramayana, Ravana is a ten-headed demon king who abducts Sita, the wife of Rama. With the help of Hanuman and his allies, Rama eventually defeats Ravana and rescues Sita. This victory is celebrated during Dussehra, a festival that symbolises the triumph of good over evil.
At first glance, it’s a pretty straightforward story. Good defeats bad, light overcomes darkness, and righteousness prevails.
But yoga invites us to look a little deeper.
Ravana wasn’t simply a villain. He was also a great scholar, a capable ruler and a devoted worshipper of Shiva. His downfall came not from a lack of knowledge or ability, but from his ego. He became so caught up in his own power and identity that he lost sight of the bigger picture.
And isn’t that something we can all recognise in ourselves?
Ravana’s ten heads can be understood as a representation of the ego, alongside our ten senses: the five senses through which we perceive the world and the five organs through which we act within it.
When the ego takes control, these faculties can become tools for selfishness, attachment and the belief that we are separate from everything around us. We become caught up in who we think we are, what we have achieved, what we want and how we compare ourselves to others.
Every time we feed our jealousy, act out of anger or cling tightly to the idea of being right, another head of Ravana appears.
The challenge isn’t to become someone who never experiences these feelings. It’s to recognise them when they arise, and to understand how they influence the way we move through the world.
So, what does this have to do with yoga?
In Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, we find a similar teaching in the pancha klesha — the five obstacles that cloud our perception and keep us from recognising our true nature.
These are:
Avidya ignorance, or misunderstanding the true nature of reality.
Asmita ego, or identifying too strongly with our individual sense of self.
Raga attachment to the things we desire.
Dvesha aversion to the things we dislike or wish to avoid.
Abhinivesha fear of death or a deep-rooted clinging to life.
Sound familiar?
We see these patterns in everyday life. The need to be liked, the frustration when things don’t go our way, the desire to control an outcome, or the tendency to compare our journey with somebody else’s.
And we see them on the mat, too.
Perhaps we become frustrated when we can’t get into a particular asana. Maybe we judge ourselves against the person practising next to us, or become attached to what our practice should look like.
Yoga gives us the opportunity to notice these patterns without becoming consumed by them.
Importantly, this doesn’t mean we should label every thought or emotion as ego and try to get rid of it. Our sense of self has a purpose. It helps us navigate the world, establish boundaries and understand our experiences.
The practice is about learning to recognise when the ego is serving us and when it’s running the show.
Through self-study, we begin to take the seat of the sakshi — the witness. This is the part of us that can observe our thoughts, feelings and reactions without automatically becoming them.
Instead of reacting immediately, we create a little space.
We can ask ourselves: Where is this coming from? Is this action rooted in fear, insecurity or the need to be right? Or can I respond with a little more awareness, compassion and understanding?
That space is where the real work begins.
Rama, Hanuman and the journey back to ourselves
If Ravana represents the ego when it has taken control, Rama represents the Atman: our true, higher Self, and the embodiment of dharma - living in alignment with what is right.
What makes Rama’s story so meaningful is that he doesn’t avoid the difficulties of being human. He experiences exile, grief and loss. His journey isn’t free from suffering, but his actions are guided by virtue and duty rather than personal gain.
He also recognises that he cannot do everything alone.
This is where Hanuman comes in.
Hanuman represents bhakti, the path of devotion, and prema, selfless love. His devotion to Rama is unwavering, and his role in the story reminds us of the power of surrender, trust and a love that extends beyond the individual self.
In our own lives, we can become so caught up in our separate identities that we forget our connection to something greater than ourselves. We become focused on our own ambitions, worries and desires, believing that everything begins and ends with us.
Bhakti invites us to shift that perspective.
It asks us to bring devotion and intention into our practice, whether that means connecting with the Divine, recognising the sacred in the world around us, or simply learning to act with greater love and less expectation of what we might receive in return.
As Patanjali writes in the Yoga Sutras:
Īśvara praṇidhānād vā (Yoga Sutra 1.23)
Through surrender to the Divine, we can move towards the experience of yoga — a remembering of our connection with something greater than our individual sense of self.
Because yoga isn’t just about what we can achieve on the mat. It’s about the intention we bring to our practice and the way that intention begins to shape how we live.
Are we practising to prove something? To look a certain way? To be better than we were yesterday?
Or can we practise as an offering, letting go of the need for a particular outcome and becoming more present with what is?
When we begin to act without constantly looking for personal reward, we practise what the Bhagavad Gita calls nishkama karma — selfless action. We start to loosen our grip on the idea that everything we do must benefit us in some way.
And in that shift, we begin to recognise our connection to others.
From ego to ahimsa
One of the most beautiful things about this teaching is that the victory over ego isn’t about becoming perfect, peaceful or endlessly positive.
It’s about becoming more aware.
When we notice jealousy, anger, fear or attachment arising, we have an opportunity to understand what’s happening beneath the surface. We can acknowledge those feelings without allowing them to dictate our words and actions.
Over time, this awareness can change the way we treat ourselves and the people around us.
We become less reactive. More willing to listen. More able to admit when we’re wrong, ask for help and recognise that our perspective isn’t the only one that matters.
This is where ahimsa — non-violence — becomes such an important part of the practice.
Ahimsa isn’t only about avoiding physical harm. It also asks us to consider the impact of our thoughts, words and actions. Are we acting from compassion or judgement? Are we creating separation, or recognising the humanity we share?
The more we understand ourselves, the more space we create to meet others with kindness.
And perhaps that is one of the greatest victories we can experience: not defeating some external enemy, but learning to recognise the parts of ourselves that create unnecessary suffering, and choosing a different way forward.
Bringing October’s focus onto the mat
This month, we invite you to bring these teachings into your practice at 4NT.
Notice what comes up when a pose feels difficult. Pay attention to the stories you tell yourself when something doesn’t go to plan. Observe the urge to compare, compete or give up when things feel uncomfortable.
You don’t need to judge any of it. Simply notice.
Take that same awareness off the mat, too. Notice how you respond when somebody challenges your opinion, when plans change or when you don’t get the outcome you hoped for.
Can you pause before reacting? Can you meet yourself with a little more compassion? Can you choose an action that serves something beyond your own immediate wants?
These small moments of awareness are part of the practice. They are how the teachings become more than words in a book or ideas we explore in a yoga class.
The story of Rama and Ravana reminds us that the light we’re searching for isn’t something we need to create from scratch. Sometimes, we simply need to clear away the things that prevent us from seeing it.
As we move through October, let’s remember that the aim isn’t to destroy the ego, but to understand it. To recognise when it clouds our vision, soften its grip and reconnect with the part of ourselves that can act with clarity, love and purpose.
And when those ten heads inevitably show up again? Because, let’s be honest, they will.
We get another opportunity to practise.
A mantra for October
We leave you with a beautiful mantra from the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, a prayer for moving beyond illusion and towards truth, light and freedom.
Asato mā sad-gamaya
Lead me from the untruth to the truth.
Tamaso mā jyotir-gamaya
Lead me from darkness to light.
Mṛtyor mā amṛtaṁ gamaya
Lead me from death to immortality.
Śāntiḥ, śāntiḥ, śāntiḥ
Peace, peace, peace.
May this month’s practice help us see a little more clearly, live a little more consciously and remember the connection that has always been there.
See you on the mat.