WIE: Another observation we've made about the attainment of self-mastery is that it seems to always include a movement from a negative, limited sense of self to a deeply positive sense of self. Traditional teachings of enlightenment, on the other hand, tell us that the ultimate human attainment is the discovery of "no-self," the realization that our true nature, who we really are, is beyond any notion of self, positive or negative, and that it is in fact the very idea that we exist as a separate individual at all that inhibits us from discovering true freedom. Would you agree that ultimately any fixed notion of self, even one that is extremely positive, has to be given up if we are to become truly free?

DM: Yes, except I'd change the words. Rather than "given up"—because I don't know that we "give up"—I'd say "seen through." And I think insight and humor are the two best tools for doing that. I think the bigger the sense of humor one has about oneself as a character, the more one sees through, and in a sense transcends, the ego. I don't think it's a matter of getting rid of the ego. I use my ego to learn, to teach and to serve. It's just my personality level. But I don't take it too seriously. I don't take this "Dan Millman" character terribly seriously, as if that's really all I am.

WIE: When you use the word "ego" here, are you referring to the separate sense of self?

DM: What we call "ego" is just our conscious self, our sense of identity. As a baby, I'm an amorphous soup; I'm my mother, I'm everybody. And then I grow up seeing people point to me and I go, "Oh, this is me." And so to me, it's a functional thing.

In India, there are these people called "masts." They just sit there. We call them "catatonic," but in India they're considered to be enlightened beings who have no ego. But they're pretty boring, actually. They don't function. They sit there. People have to feed them. But they are considered to be spiritual beings because they have no ego, no sense of a self that needs to do, achieve or even survive. That's one kind of "egolessness." Neither newborn infants nor certain Zen masters have much of an ego. The difference is that in the infant the ego is undeveloped, and in the Zen master the ego is presumably transcended. Now motivational speakers and gung—ho people who help others to develop a positive sense of self—to find out that they "can"—are helping the ego get what it thinks it needs to be happy. This approach may be popular and attractive to many people, but I think it is a limited practice, at best perhaps a stepping-stone along the way.

WIE: Both in the quest for self-mastery and in the quest for enlightenment, it seems that one almost inevitably encounters many internal obstacles, the foremost of which is probably fear. In fact, you devoted a chapter of your book to this. In the pursuit of self-mastery, it manifests most often as, say, fear of challenge or fear of change. And descriptions of the quest for enlightenment often include an encounter with the existential fear of leaving behind all familiar reference points, of leaping into the unknown. In Everyday Enlightenment you state that while we cannot control fear and can't make it go away, "we can overcome any fear." What, in your view, is the key to overcoming fear?

DM: Simply put, doing it anyway. Doing what it is you need to do. It has nothing to do with making the fear go away. Sometimes fear goes away. If I dive off a ten-meter tower, I'm going to be afraid the first number of times I do it, but eventually I won't be afraid anymore—until I try a new dive that I haven't done before. Fear comes and goes and, as an emotion, we don't have any direct control over it. It's quite natural to feel fear in many situations. When the fear is objective—that is, fear for our physical safety, when we might die or be injured—we need to listen, let fear be our guide and tell us, "Prepare well, be patient, stay alert, take precautions or avoid the situation." But if a fear is subjective—fear of embarrassment, looking foolish, being rejected, or fear of the unknown—to me it's very clear at that point that we need to honor it, see it, and do it anyway. When someone says, "I can't do something because I'm too afraid," they're lying to themselves.

I can't levitate—that's my experience. I can't walk through walls. But if I say, "I can't speak in public because I'm too afraid," or, "I can't do this or that because it's just too hard," what I'm really saying is, "I choose not to do it because it makes me feel too uncomfortable." And that's fine. If people recognize, "I'm choosing not to do this. I'm limiting my life because I don't want to go through this discomfort," then that's their choice, consciously. But they shouldn't fool themselves by saying, "I can't do it." When people say, "I'm a phobic, I've been diagnosed," all they're really saying is, "I'm really uncomfortable." But it's just bad flu symptoms. They can still do it. Their heart may palpitate, they may feel nauseous, they may get pale, they may hyperventilate, their knees may shake. But they can control their breathing because that's a physical manifestation. They can take a deep, slow breath. They can relax the body. That is in our control. And they can do it anyway. It won't feel very nice but if it's their goal to do it, they'll do it. And that includes anything.

WIE: In your work, you seem to place a great deal of emphasis on the power of self-discipline, on how conscious, directed action can transform our lives. In Everyday Enlightenment, you state: "No matter what you might learn in this or any similar book, living effectively comes down to applying your will to control your behavior." This seems to be a perfect summation of the essence of self-mastery. In traditional enlightenment teachings, there is also an emphasis on the need for self-discipline or self-control, yet in those traditions, that need for self-control is always secondary to and in the service of the ultimate demand for profound surrender, for a complete relinquishing of control in order to allow a force greater than oneself to move one's life. In the end, which do you feel is more important for the individual who wants to be free—surrender or self-control?

DM: That's a good question and there's a certain paradoxical nature to it. It has to do, again, with the difference between the transcendent and conventional realities. Because when I surrender, how do I know whether I'm surrendering to God or surrendering to my internal impulses? Does surrender have anything to do with doing what I think is best in the moment? If somebody is yelling at me, and my impulse is to not be kind but I am kind, did I just surrender to God or did I apply my will? Free will is a God-given ability, and I believe that it is important that we apply our will—to use our intelligence and our awareness in doing what seems best in each moment. But doing what is best may in a sense also be surrendering to our higher will or to a higher will. So do we call it "self-control" with a small "s" or a large "S"? I think it sounds good, it sounds true to say that there is surrender to a higher will on one hand and self-mastery and self-discipline on the other. But I think in reality the distinction may be hazy. One may fade into the other. There are people who will tell you spirit is controlling everything they do. There are some masters who I studied with a long time and—

WIE: A lot of what they did raised some questions?

DM: Yes. But they were always claiming that it was all for the highest good of their devotees. Well, I don't know about that. I feel surrender is very, very powerful and very important, but how to do that is an artful process, I think. Just like it's easy to say, "Be kind," but how do you "be kind"? How do you "act kindly"? Do you help an old lady across the street only to have her beat you with her umbrella because she didn't want to go across the street? Or if your spouse is upset with you, do you remain calm and smile at them? That may not be too kind. It may be kinder to yell back if they want to engage you. It's an artful process to know how to surrender or how to be kind.

WIE: In your chapter "Reclaim Your Will," you make an interesting distinction. You state that if we want to change the course of our lives, there are two routes we can take. One, "you can direct your energy and attention toward trying to fix your mind, find your focus, affirm your power, free your emotions, and visualize positive outcomes so that you can finally develop the confidence to display the courage to discover the determination, to make the commitment, to feel sufficiently motivated to do what it is you need to do." Or, two, "you can just do it." Now, the first approach appears to be much more popular, yet the second option obviously sounds more effective. What is it that changes within the individual who makes that decision to "just do it"?

DM: Most of us learn to "just do it" after exhausting all the other shortcuts and easy ways and psychological tricks and motivational techniques that don't work. After we've used up our subliminal tapes, self—hypnosis, affirmations, visualizations, inspirational speakers, encouraging words, positive self-talk, we are left with the existential question, "Will I do it, or not?" We finally confront reality. Ultimately, we don't have to "reclaim our will" or "find our confidence" or "develop our discipline." We don't even have to believe we can do it or say we can do it. We just have to do it. Doing what needs doing doesn't require any internal state or feeling. You just have to do it. But we have this persistent hope, this stubborn wish, that we will find a shortcut, an easier way. We'd rather work on our insides for a few days or years or lifetimes—something in the meantime, like sharpening pencils before writing a book. But what does life come down to? How do we turn what we know into what we actually do?

One reviewer of my book said, "Millman's much too simplistic. For addicts, he recommends they just stop rather than find a treatment program." In reality, I do recommend treatment programs for some people. But whether they do a 12-step program or NA or AA or get the help of friends and family or hit bottom or get frightened enough or inspired enough to finally do it, everyone stops an addictive behavior the same way: They just stop. They finally have to come to that point. And for some people it takes all these other intermediate steps. But I suggest it saves people a lot of time and pain in the long run to recognize that they can just control their behavior, and as much as they won't feel like doing it, do it anyway. As far as what magical point brings people to that—when they're ready to hear it, they'll do it. Otherwise they'll spend endless hours working on the internal solutions, the psychological New Age solution.

WIE: This willingness to "just do it" seems to be an important dimension of self-mastery according to nearly everyone we've spoken with for this issue. Do you think the "just do it" approach is also an ingredient of enlightenment?

DM: Nike never knew what they were coming up with, did they?

Well, I think "just do it" is certainly an ingredient of the "practice of enlightenment" as I teach it. The "just do it" idea is the recognition that we can control our behavior under the dominion of our will or a higher will working through us. I see surrendering to God as a metaphor for bringing out the best and the highest ideals or archetypes within us—for connecting up to that God, that force, that intelligence or love inside of us, and letting it come out. So rather than seeing it as a waiting for something cosmic or mystical from above to enter us, to possess us, I see it as a beautiful metaphor for drawing out the best within us and then acting on that. So "just do it," yes, I think that is an ingredient—and certainly an important one—and a key to what I call the "practice of everyday enlightenment."

WIE: For this issue of our magazine, we also spoke with one of the most prominent exponents of the human potential movement, Michael Murphy, the founder of Esalen Institute, who believes that contemporary advances in our understanding of the workings of the human mind and body, and of how mastery is achieved, should be seen in the context of the evolution of the human race as a whole. He suggests that the pioneering efforts of extraordinary people in many fields reflect the possibility of a transformation over time of our entire species. Do you see your own work in such an evolutionary context?

DM: I personally am fascinated with the lineages of different teachers, writers and communicators because the lineage says something about what they teach and it gives us more clarity. Anthony Robbins studied many different personal growth arenas and worked with businesses and sales and studied NLP [Neuro-Linguistic Programming]—which is part of his lineage—and Michael Murphy was influenced greatly and positively by Sri Aurobindo, and what you've just described is very Aurobindian. I always come back to the metaphor of "one light, many lamps," because we're all describing different approaches to life, or are all tuned in to different radio stations. And those who tune in to Michael's station are a little more interested than I am in powers, in siddhis [supernormal abilities], in sports and in other realms.

We may indeed evolve into greater abilities of various kinds, which would be interesting. But personally, I think that has very little to do with enlightenment. It might be a manifestation of certain breakthroughs, siddhis and psychic abilities. It might. But I don't think that's a stepping-stone toward enlightenment. I think people can be enlightened and can have no powers or abilities whatsoever. We may stay exactly as we are. I love to tell the story of Aldous Huxley, who studied many spiritual traditions and teachings. Just before he died, someone said, "Aldous, after all this time, what have you learned?" He said, "I'm a little embarrassed to say. I can summarize it all with the words, 'Just try to be a little kinder.' "To me, that's greater than any powers and abilities. Maybe I feel this way because I was a gymnast and I exhibited certain "powers" by doing things that other people couldn't do and they were very impressed by them. But they didn't make me happy. They didn't make me more enlightened. They were just practical skills. So if on a practical level we can learn to throw footballs twice as far or jump higher or run faster, if our brains get more powerful—or even if we learn how to move things with our minds—I think that's all functionally very nice. And maybe these new powers would even help us to create a more enlightened society. Maybe. But I don't personally equate powers with, or regard them as necessary precursors to, realizing the punch line to the cosmic joke.

WIE: What do you see as the highest expression of human potential?

DM: It has to do with everything we've been talking about in terms of kindness, in terms of realizing our unity with God, our unity with one another—and not just realizing it, but living it. We tend to realize things long before we can live them. We've all had realizations and understandings and insights, but it can take ten years to actually bring even a simple insight into our life and live it. So living it, not just realizing it, I would say, would be the highest potential.

WIE: Are you still striving for enlightenment?

DM: No. At some point in time, I don't know when it was, I became more interested in bringing smiles to other people's faces, and now I have no motive or goal. I'm okay with the present moment. I mean that quite sincerely.