Every empire has its enemies. Some conceal themselves in shadows, others gather in secret rooms, and a few sip suspiciously fancy tea at 7 a.m. But the most dangerous enemy is often the one hidden inside the ruler — the quiet slide into ego, the craving to be unquestioned, the comfort of hearing only praise.
If you’ve ever found yourself suspiciously irritated by
feedback, allergic to correction, or deeply convinced that everyone else is
wrong, congratulations — you’ve entered your own personal empire, and you’re
probably sitting alone in its echo chamber.
I stumbled on a story that has followed me for weeks. It
wasn’t the swords or the wars or the spies reporting on people’s breakfast
beverages. It was the gentle but alarming reminder that true power is
preserved only when someone is allowed to hold a sword above your head — a
sword that reflects your most authentic self to you.
This article is about that sword, the echo chambers
we all build, and the spiritual lesson hidden in the voices we’d rather
silence.
The Empire, the Sect, and the Mirror We Avoid
(Understanding the narrative behind humility and
accountability)
There was an empire — a grand one — with an emperor wise
enough to know his enemies and humble enough to monitor them with spies who
reported even the number of wrinkles on their foreheads. And beside him was a
second-in-command, a warrior chosen deliberately not only for his military
genius, but because he had no desire to sit on the throne. The emperor
knew power corrupts faster than milk in the Nairobi sun, so he handpicked a man
whose values were his anchor.
This second-in-command spent half his life balancing the
empire’s religious sects — some peaceful, some chaotic, some a little too
enthusiastic with martial arts, herbal elixirs, and mysterious wealth. If a
sect went rogue, he handled it sometimes brutally to set an example. If a
leader got power-hungry, he dealt with it. But he also admired integrity when
he found it.
One sect in particular had a leader so brilliant that the
second-in-command appointed him to oversee the nation's top university.
Scholar. Researcher. Impressive leader. This sect leader was the kind of man
whose principles were so steady that you almost wanted to borrow them.
But time went on, and a new sect leader emerged — a young
man just under 25, fierce in battle, sharp-minded, and annoyingly similar to
the second-in-command himself. Interviewing him was like looking into a mirror
— not the flattering Instagram filter kind, but the brutally honest bathroom
mirror at 5 a.m.
“Will you ever rebel against me?” the second-in-command asked.
“We will stay true to our values,” the young sect leader replied. “And we will
remind you when you don’t meet them.” That answer alone could have had the
young man executed. But it didn’t.
Some people you meet hold up a mirror you didn’t realize you
needed. They reflect not only your strengths but also your weaknesses. Their
presence alone keeps your ego from growing too much like a badly blown-up
balloon.
Later, when asked why he spared such a potential threat, the
second-in-command answered:
“The only way I can ensure I am doing the right thing is
if there is always a sword above me, shining back my reflection. Without it, I
will destroy this empire with hubris and pride.”
That line grabbed me by the throat, because who is holding
that sword over your head? Who is close enough, principled enough,
and brave enough to tell you the truth? And who, my friend, have you
quietly executed in your mind because you didn’t like their feedback?
The Danger of Personal Echo Chambers
(Understanding the psychology behind echo chambers)
We don’t need an empire to create our own echo chambers. We
do it naturally. As we become more competent in work, relationships, parenting,
leadership, and spirituality, we start to believe our own press releases. The
people who disagree with us become “negative.” Those who challenge us become
“disrespectful.” And those who hold us accountable? “Haters.”
Slowly, subtly, without noticing, we replace truth-tellers
with cheerleaders. We trade mirrors for megaphones.
This is how the ego works:
- It
praises you loudly.
- It
shields you from honest voices.
- It
convinces you that dissent is disloyalty.
- It
builds a comfortable room full of your own opinions.
Then you wake up one day and realize: You are surrounded
by yourself. And nothing, absolutely nothing, will stunt your growth faster
than becoming the only voice you hear.
In habit coaching, I’ve seen this pattern countless times. A
person grows, becomes consistent, becomes respected, becomes excellent and then
stops being correctable. Success has a way of muting the very voices that
helped us get there.
But without dissent
- Leaders
lose perspective.
- Innovators
lose creativity.
- Parents
lose connection.
- Spouses
lose gratitude.
- Entrepreneurs
lose strategy.
- And
individuals lose the humility that keeps humanity intact.
Echo chambers feel comforting, secure, and validating. But
they always result in decline.
When God Speaks Through the Uncomfortable
(Spiritual grounding for receiving correction)
This idea isn’t just philosophical — it shows up in the
story of King David. When he was fleeing from Absalom, feeling broken and
humiliated, a man named Shimei followed him along the road, shouting curses and
throwing stones. Back then, cursing a king could mean death. And David’s men
were more than willing to abbreviate Shimei’s life.
But David stopped them.
“If he is cursing me because the Lord told him to. Who am
I to ask, ‘Why are you doing this?’”
David, a king—a warrior king—allowed someone to insult him
without retaliating. Why? Because even in the place of pain, he suspected this
voice might carry a truth he needed to face.
Even more powerful is what happened later. When David's
fortunes reversed, Shimei returned — groveling. And David chose mercy over
vengeance.
David understood something we forget:
At times, God uses uncomfortable voices to call us back
to ourselves. Sometimes the people we want to silence carry the lesson we need.
Whether the voice comes from: a
spouse, a child, a mentor, a colleague, a pastor or a stranger pelting
metaphorical stones.
There is wisdom in pausing long enough to ask: “Lord, is
there something in this for me?”
It is not that every critic is right. And it’s not that
every accuser carries the truth. But a wise man listens — not to obey every
voice, but to discern the one that keeps him aligned with his values.
The second-in-command listened to the young sect leader
because he recognized shared principles.
David listened to Shimei because he recognized divine
correction. Both understood that you cannot grow if you cannot be corrected.
Conclusion: Find Your Sword, Keep It Shining
You need a sword above your head. Not to threaten you. But
to keep you honest. You need a mirror sharp enough to reveal the parts of you
your ego hides. And you need voices, authentic voices, that are allowed to tell
you:
- “You’re
drifting.”
- “That
wasn’t wise.”
- “You
hurt someone.”
- “You’re
better than this.”
- “Return
to your values.”
Because if the only voice you hear is your own, your
downfall is already rehearsing backstage.
Call to Action
Take one step today:
Identify one person whose honesty you’ve avoided — and
invite them back into your life.
Ask them:
“What truth do you see that I keep missing?”
This is the habit that separates leaders who last from
leaders who collapse under the weight of their unchecked egos. Let the sword
shine. Let the mirror reflect. And let humility guide you back to the path of
growth.
If this message stirred something in you, don’t let it fade.
1.
Join my LinkedIn Habit Coaching Newsletter: https://www.linkedin.com/newsletters/habits-with-coach-edwin-7399067976420966400/
2.
Join my Habit WhatsApp Community at https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbAmKkOBvvsWOuBx5g3L
3.
Alternatively, sign up for my 6-month
Personal Transformation Coaching Program by sending me a message on
WhatsApp at +254-724328059.
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