Our complete self, which contains in full the opposites of dark and light (the good and evil intentions driving our thoughts and actions), reaches consciousness (if it does) as an apparently egoless state. But it isn't that the ego disappears; it's just that it has become more evenly stretched into a state of stable perception (think of stable elements). In such a state, you feel as if you've become whole, not because you've either lost or gained yourself entirely, but because you've managed, for a time, to center yourself in the middle of the frameānot slanting off in one direction or the other to hide or accentuate certain aspects of your self's sketch.
Here, your faults and shortcomings are no longer a sun granting you insecure vision; your strengths no longer a moon rushing you to break upon the world too soon and before fully formed. This is to achieve healthy-mindedness, which, like a healthy body, makes us more prone to forget the active processes in question altogether. Think of the relative anonymity of the work of most of our bodily organs until they're in a state of explicit pain. The greater your understanding of your more complete self, the greater your capacity to experience consciousness capable of maintaining good, consistent speed without the distraction of an excess of rattling thoughts.