The Selector Keeps Changing, But the Ego Remains the Same

THE SELECTED ONES KEEP CHANGING THEIR SELECTOR

Over time, the ego of being “special” has simply changed its costume—from being chosen by God (as with Ramana and mystics), to being aligned with the Universe (like Sadguru and urban spiritual influencers), to now being selected by Nature (seen in organic farming, permaculture, and Insta village gurus). Though the language and lifestyle appear more humble with each phase, the silent superiority remains: “I know something you don’t.” This essay exposes how spiritual hierarchies are built not on truth, but on the ever-evolving claim of being chosen, while urging a more honest path of humility, shared struggle, and living without needing to be selected at all.

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There was a time when people said God selected me.

Then they said the Universe selected me.

Now they say Nature selected me.

The names keep changing.

The packaging keeps evolving.

But the real thing behind it?

The desire to feel special. To feel above. To feel chosen.

This is not just about spiritual gurus. This is about a pattern you see everywhere—from big ashrams in Coimbatore to small farms in Maharashtra, from Instagram reels of village retreats to city workshops on "living slowly."

Let’s walk through this shift.

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PART 1: WHEN GOD SELECTED THEM

This was the age of mystics. Ramana Maharshi. Swami Vivekananda. Aurobindo.

Back then, people believed that God came in visions or silence or dreams and selected someone.

These selected ones were not self-promoting. But the followers? They made them into superhumans.

They said things like:

“He was born enlightened.”

“He reached samadhi at 16.”

“God spoke through him.”

The ego was outsourced.

The disciple gave away his thinking to the guru.

And the guru (or his organisation) quietly allowed the worship.

They said: “It’s not me, it’s God.”

But somehow, it was always them that God spoke to. Not you.

You could spend your life in devotion. But you’d still not be chosen. That role was taken.

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PART 2: WHEN THE UNIVERSE SELECTED THEM

Then came the spiritual corporate age.

Books like The Secret and Power of Now.

Yoga with Instagram filters.

Energy circles in Goa.

Himalayan retreats with price tags.

And a new phrase became famous:

> “I didn’t choose this path. The Universe chose me.”

Suddenly, it wasn’t God selecting people.

It was the Universe.

Sounds more inclusive. More neutral. Less religious.

But the effect was the same:

They were the channel.

They were aligned.

They had manifested this life.

You didn’t suffer because of life circumstances.

You were “out of alignment.”

You didn’t succeed because your energy “wasn’t vibrating high enough.”

And who had the answers?

They did. The ones selected by the Universe.

They hosted vision board workshops, chakra cleanses, and law-of-attraction coaching.

They weren’t claiming to be gods.

But they acted like they were upgraded humans.

Smiling, glowing, with a backdrop of Himalayan peaks or Bali forests.

And the rest of us? Still stuck. Still trying to “raise our vibration.”

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PART 3: WHEN NATURE SELECTED THEM

Now we’ve moved into the Nature phase.

The guru now wears khadi.

He speaks in Kannada, Marathi, Hindi—local language.

He grows his own food.

He posts reels with cow dung, clay pots, and neem twigs.

He says:

“I’m not a guru.”

“I’m just a farmer.”

“I don’t teach. I just live.”

“Jeevan Vidya. Not Philosophy. Only Practice.”

It sounds grounded.

It looks humble.

But again, he has been selected.

This time not by God or the Universe.

But by Nature.

Nature whispered something to him while he was mixing compost.

Or sitting under a banyan tree.

Or while milking a native cow.

And now, he knows what life is.

He’s unlearning what you are still trapped in.

He says:

“Don’t go to school.”

“Grow your own food.”

“Build your own house.”

“Live in a village.”

All of this is beautiful advice.

Deep. True. Useful.

But somewhere, it turns into a hierarchy.

Because again—he’s the selected one.

You are still catching up.

He shares in soft tones.

But his face says:

"Poor you. You haven’t realised what I have.”

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WHAT REALLY CHANGED?

In all three cases, the selector changed:

Time - Selector - Claim

Earlier - God - "God chose me to guide others."

Then - Universe - "The universe aligned me for this."

Now - Nature - "Nature revealed the truth to me."

But the underlying hunger stayed the same:

> “I am special. I get it. You don’t. Follow me.”

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THE DANGER OF THE “I WAS SELECTED” STORY

On the surface, it looks harmless.

But here’s what it does:

1. Creates silent hierarchies

Even when they say “we are all equal,”

the vibe is clear: they are more equal than you.

2. Stops real conversations

If you question them, they smile.

“You haven’t experienced it yet,” they say.

Conversation ends. Truth becomes monopoly.

3. Builds spiritual businesses

Followers = income = influence = unaccountability.

The more humble their words, the more curated their lifestyle.

4. Makes doubt look sinful

If you ask “Why?” you are told to purify your heart.

If you ask for proof, they say “Truth cannot be explained.”

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THE MORE HONEST PATH: NOT SELECTED. JUST STRUGGLING.

Here’s another path.

You don’t need to be selected.

You don’t need to teach anyone.

You don’t need to build a school or retreat.

You don’t need to document your entire journey.

Maybe you’re just healing.

Maybe you’re just tired of noise.

Maybe farming helps your mind.

Maybe unlearning gives you peace.

You don’t need to act like you’ve reached.

Maybe you haven’t. Maybe you never will.

And that’s okay.

Some people find truth in bhajans.

Some in millet farming.

Some in silence.

Some in satire.

You don’t need to be Nature’s chosen one to live well.

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IF YOU MUST TEACH, THEN BE HONEST.

Don’t say “I was selected.”

Say:

“I was broken.”

“I was sick of this world.”

“I made many mistakes.”

“I’m still figuring it out.”

Don’t say “I’m just living my truth.”

Say:

“Sometimes I feel lost.”

“Sometimes I do this for attention.”

“Sometimes I judge others while acting humble.”

Because maybe your honesty will help someone more than your curated wisdom.

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EPILOGUE: WE ARE ALL UNSELECTED

In a world obsessed with being chosen—

chosen by God, Universe, or Nature—

maybe the most radical thing is to say:

> I was not selected. I just showed up.

Not above you.

Not below you.

Just another human trying to breathe better, live slower, and harm less.

No label.

No identity.

No selector.

Just soil under the nails.

And peace in the chest.

And that—finally—needs no audience.

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THE SELECTED BASTARD

I’ve watched them all.

One by one, they came.

With malas, mics, mud, and mantras.

Some said God picked them.

Some said the Universe selected them.

Some said Nature whispered to them.

And a few—bold ones—just pointed to their pain and called it a calling.

But all of them had one thing in common:

They needed to be seen as chosen.

Not just living life.

Sanctioned by something.

God. Cosmos. Cow dung. Childhood trauma.

Whatever works.

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PART ONE: GOD SELECTED ME

That was the original scam.

You’d wake up from a dream, half-naked under a tree,

and if you could keep your mouth shut long enough,

a few desperate people would start sitting near you.

Say nothing for long enough,

and the more they project.

“He’s realised.”

“He doesn’t need words.”

“He is the Truth.”

Suddenly, you’ve got mangoes at your feet and donations at your doorstep.

They kneel. You smile.

They call it surrender.

You call it Tuesday.

And before you know it,

you’re running an ashram and pretending

you still don’t care about money, even as the land multiplies.

You say “I didn’t ask for this”,

but you’ve got a Trust, a disciple inheritance dispute, and a foot massage roster.

God didn’t select you.

You just knew how to sit still while the world begged for hope.

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PART TWO: THE UNIVERSE SELECTED ME

When God got too heavy and too tied to culture,

people started hearing whispers from the Universe.

It was cleaner.

Cooler.

Better suited for Airbnb retreats in Rishikesh.

Now you didn’t need a temple.

You just needed “alignment.”

The Universe doesn’t demand fasting or celibacy.

It demands hashtags and vibration charts.

And so came the law-of-attraction influencers.

The energy coaches.

The “quantum healing” mystics

with quartz crystals, foreign accents, and startup decks.

They tell you:

“You are powerful.”

“You are abundant.”

“You just need to believe.”

But behind their glowing posts is this deep, sick truth:

> They need you to stay a little broken.

Just enough to follow them.

Not enough to leave them.

Because if you fully healed,

you’d stop paying ₹9,999 for a Full Moon Activation Ceremony.

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PART THREE: NATURE SELECTED ME

Now Nature is the new God.

Simple clothes. Mud houses. Finger millet. Compost toilets.

And with it, a new breed of humble superiority:

“I’m not spiritual. I’m natural.”

“I don’t preach. I just live.”

“Jeevan Vidya. Not Religion.”

But don’t be fooled.

There’s still hierarchy.

Still selection.

Still ego.

Only now, it’s disguised in cow urine and intentional community brochures.

They say “all are equal”

but speak like only they’ve seen the matrix.

They say “live with the land”

but somehow there’s always a camera crew when they harvest tomatoes.

They say “we left the city”

but their audience is still the city.

This new selection isn’t divine.

It’s ecological enlightenment with aesthetic filters.

And yet—

the real farmer who never left the land?

He doesn’t make reels.

He doesn’t explain himself.

He doesn’t claim he’s selected.

Because he’s too damn tired from actually living the life

these new saints only perform.

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PART FOUR: TRAUMA SELECTED ME

Some go deeper.

They say:

“I didn’t choose this work. My pain did.”

“My body became the proof of wisdom.”

“My depression was the awakening.”

And there’s truth in it.

But also—

> Pain can be real without being sacred.

Suffering can happen without making you a guide.

Not every wound needs a workshop.

But try telling that to the trauma gurus.

The ones who found God in their molestation

and now sell courses on “somatic liberation” at ₹25,000 a pop.

They need to be selected.

Even if it’s by their scars.

Because selection justifies their authority.

Selection justifies the workshop fees.

Selection protects them from criticism.

They say:

“If you’re triggered by me, you’re resisting your healing.”

Which is just the spiritual version of gaslighting.

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EVERYONE WANTS TO BE CHOSEN

It’s not just gurus.

Look around.

Everyone is running toward some damn label:

I’m an empath.

I’m neurodivergent.

I’m INFJ.

I’m an old soul.

I’m a black sheep.

I’m a generator, 6/2 profile.

I’m trauma-informed.

Everyone wants to be a damn snowflake.

Because being average is now the ultimate insult.

Being ordinary is death.

So you must be called.

You must be unique.

You must have a story.

Even your anxiety must be a sign.

Even your breakdown must be your destiny calling.

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THE UGLY TRUTH: IT’S STILL ABOUT POWER

Every version of “I was selected”

is a power play in disguise.

It gives you immunity.

It gives you stage time.

It gives you obedience from others.

You can deny it.

But here’s the test:

> Try living your truth without anyone watching.

Without ever explaining it.

Without ever being congratulated for it.

If you can do that—

maybe you don’t need to be selected after all.

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THE UNSELECTED ONES

Some people just quietly build.

Plant their own rice.

Raise their own kids.

Hold space for others without branding it.

Fix water lines. Make idli batter. Hold dying parents.

They aren’t selected.

They aren’t seen.

They don’t go viral.

But if there’s a God or Universe or Nature—

maybe they’re the ones She’s really watching.

And maybe that’s why they never have the time to claim it.

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FINAL WORD: FUCK BEING SELECTED

I wasn’t selected.

By God. Or stars. Or bacteria in my gut.

I just got tired.

Tired of fake wisdom, curated authenticity, and healing performances.

I walk barefoot sometimes.

Not because Nature whispered to me,

but because my slippers broke and I was too lazy to buy new ones.

I talk to people about pain.

Not because I healed mine—

but because mine still wakes me up at 3 AM and needs company.

I’m not here to teach you anything.

But if you read this far,

maybe you were tired of the selected ones too.

Welcome.

Unselected.

Unlabelled.

Unimpressed.

Let’s grow onions and keep our mouths shut.

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