Less and less are we able to say "I", because the "I" we are aware of seems less and less substantial, les and less convincing as the authentic centre of our identity, the source of our being. The narrowly self-defining, boundary-conscious ego has thrust itself to the fore, oedipally proclaiming its autonomy. We cut ourselves off from the vital presence that enfolds us, concretely grounded us, held us thick in the midst of the real, infused us with life. The artificial and impoverished images of nature, society and woman stem essentially from this thinning out and impoverishment of the sense of self. Cut off from its roots by personal and collective acts of repression, the contemporary ego is truly wasting away.