I can be tempted to narrate the events of my life, as though what I'm describing is out there.
It's not remotely out there.
It's in here.
What I'm narrating is my story about the events.
In an ego state, I construe what is going on to build the case to support the claim I have already lodged against God, the Respondent In Chief.
Even all of my little solutions: the schemes, the slogans, the boundaries, the cutenesses, the finding of 'my' (really my ego's more polite) voice: all of this is as much part of the narrative as the hell it seems to be the antidote to.
The protective talisman is as illusory as the ghosts it serves to protect against.
Letting go absolutely means letting go of the narratives, both the evil ones and the pseudo-spiritual claptrap used to build a cocoon of apparent safety in the ego's world, and stepping out into a High Place, entirely above the fray.