esejieng

In haiku we give no place to the self of egocenteredness. And sometimes we can and do make the self virtually disappear. Silence may accomplish this disappearing act, as it does in meditation.

"Peach blossoms follow
the moving water," she said –
and then fell silent

O. Mabson Southard

They spoke no word –
The visitor, the host,
And the white chrysanthemum.

Ryota

"No sound" in the following signifies, for me, a self "submerged":

Deep into this world
of Monet winter lilies...
no sound

Elizabeth Searle Lamb

The vanishing act can be deliberate or unintentional (though intentional on the haikuist's part):

young nun
glimpsing herself
disappears

H.F. Noyes

The kelp dragged behind
by the seaweed-gatherer
erasing his tracks

vinsent tripi

And often the sudden perception of the true beauty in the "ordinary" can lift us out of ourselves:

up from the seawall
a plume of spray
filled with dusklight

Geraldine C. Little

on jade green grass
the golden sunshine
splashing

Lui Tzu-hui

In the haiku moment, an element of nature may seem to displace our self altogether:

Winter sea,
still waving in my body
on the pier

Masako Ombe

When we "let go," coming in openness to our haiku moments, our sense of self can become "a home rather than a prison. You can come and go freely... the self a verb, not a noun; a wave, not a particle."1 Herrigel in Zen in the Art of Archery speaks of how intoxicatingly the vibrancy of an event is communicated to him who is himself a vibration."

1 Shinzen Young, teacher, in The Buddhist Review