 Photo by Mark Neal from Pexels In my last post, I mused about intentional self-construction: identifying those aspects of oneself that are especially salient -- that represent who one wants to be on a regular basis. To acknowledge the complexity and inconsistencies of self, but also to come to terms with the reality that being so inconsistent is a very immature way of being in the world (as if I am still just experimenting in a trial-and-error sort of way, never quite knowing myself still after all these years). So I wanted to grow-up and accept the identities that I return to over and over again -- and maybe set aside some of the other ones that I used to play and experiment with. I thought why not intentionally design my self? Then the next day I read an article by Jordan Harbinger about struggling to find your purpose. He actually says, "That’s the mistake I made when I was trying to figure out my purpose early on. I looked at all the varied topics I was interested in, articulated a purpose that tied them together in an elegant way, then reverse-engineered an identity that satisfied that purpose." He goes on to say that this is a recipe for feeling like an imposter because we are trying to make ourselves somebody we are not yet. We end up trying "to become an idea of ourselves." This really gave me pause considering what I had been busy doing the day before. Then I remembered what I had written on this very blog's "About" page: "To make meaning we must often make decisions. As we construct a sense of agency we come closer to feeling free, even amid the many constraints that life imposes. This blog explores those feelings, decisions, and actions that come to characterize who we are, even if who we are is a dynamic construction process." The point is that action is key. What we do is who we are -- at least as much and if not more than what we think. So, sure I can select from among my different identities and imagine who I am as a coherent whole. But I must also take care to select from existing identities and not only from my imagined and idealized self.
With that said, I do believe that becoming who we are is not an out-of-body / out-of-mind experience. It's not just that we act, and then look back and say, 'Gee, I guess I enjoy doing that.' We also can say 'here is a goal that I want to accomplish -- and these are the actions I need to do that.' Then we take those actions, and in so doing we may end up changing ourselves. It is this process of reflection, intention, action, and reflection that is behind an awakening of self and purpose.
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 Photo by Steve Johnson from Pexels Today I spent a little time doing some reflection on my identity. I don't mean in terms of a group identity -- I mean who I am in a comprehensive and individualized way.
Who am I? Few questions matter as much as this -- and few are as hard to answer completely. If viewed from how others perceive us, we see only slivers of ourselves. To my mother, I am her daughter. To my boss, I am a hard worker. To my neighbor, I am talkative when engaged. To my other neighbor, I am just shy. To my former supervisor, I am directionless. To my colleagues, I am ambitious. To my cousin, I am wild. To my other cousin, I am responsible. To my friend, I am logical and rationale. To my other friend, I am a bleeding heart. To my partner, I am the only one who really matters. I am all of these things at least some of the time -- but none of them all of the time. Except of course, I will always be my mother's daughter. This is an ascribed status, meaning it is what it is without me or anyone else having any control over it. I did not "achieve" it nor create it. I did not self-construct it. But of course my mother has plenty of other more malleable perceptions of me too. She sees me sometimes as hard-working, sometimes as directionless. She sees me sometimes as wild and sometimes as responsible. She sees much of the complexity of who I am. And yet, she still does not see all of me. She does not know my darkest moments. She does not know me at my worst. Indeed, the solitude of self is immense. It is in this space of solitude of self that the construction can begin -- or rather the deconstruction and reconstruction. I know who I am, but I do not hold -- am not capable of holding -- all of my various attributes in my mind at all times. Like linguistic code-switching, I identity code-switch depending on the context. Am I the wild and rebellious one who is the life of the party? Or the contemplative introvert who just wants to be left alone in her hermitage? I pick and choose depending on who I am with -- but also on which self I feel like expressing at that moment. I used to be okay with this. Lately, however, it's been plaguing me with a sense of discontinuity. A sense of fractures. Like as if I am just bits and pieces glued together by circumstance and whim. What I have been working on today (and many other days lately) is to put the bits and pieces together in a mosaic -- where each element is glued together intentionally and thoughtfully. Where the complexity is evident, but the design is not random chaos but coherence. In this coherence, I hope to find strength and resilience -- for the basic structure will be solid and well-known to me. It will be of my own careful design. It will be authentic and genuine at the same time that it honors a maturation of self: I can choose to let some identities subside into my youth. I need not be forever imprisoned in a Kantian self-imposed immaturity. From this, I will emerge.  Photo by Miriam Espacio from Pexels Feeling hopeful. Actually, I should be feeling hopeful given the recent US election outcome -- but my own personal life circumstances are such that I am not. I am plagued by mood swings that have gotten worse during the pandemic lock-down. This past week has been one in which I've felt a little "off."
On the one hand, I feel an impulse to externalize responsibility for how I feel -- to feel sorry for myself without acknowledging that the situation I am in is not entirely out of my control. On the other hand, I want so desperately to take control of my life so that I can shape it how I want it to be. To exert agency and set myself free of external limitations. Unfortunately, the reality of life is that we are simultaneously agents that act upon the world -- and receivers of actions by the world upon us. We can control the former perhaps only to the extent that the latter does not stand in the way. Presumably the reason self-help books are so popular is that people have a deep desire to take ownership for their lives. We want to shape our own futures. Self-help books and blogs help us do that. And yet at the same time, the advice is often trite. Worse, it sometimes seems like the advice is written for only certain personality types. Being a "go-getter" who pushes their way through life comes naturally to some; for others it feels like a salesperson trying to market themselves to the world. The act of "selling oneself" is in a way a kind of self de-humanization: to take the complexity of ourselves and package it in some way that the market economy values. But is it better to at least be valued by the market economy in some narrowly-circumscribed way than to feel entirely undervalued by society? Is there a way to make meaning that honors our desire to find our place in society and contribute to it but also does not degrade us into commodities for purchase? I don't yet know. So while I'm very happy about the election, I'm still searching for happiness... and still in the process of finding hope.  Photo by Henry & Co. from Pexels After my last post, I thought I was on a roll -- ready to write posts on a near daily basis. That was Sunday. Today is Thursday. It doesn't take much introspection to see that what's happened in the interim is the US presidential election. The fact that we still do not know who has won is anxiety-inducing to say the least. Like the person in the (amazing) photo above, I feel as if our entire country is suspended between two worlds. We don't yet know what our reality is going to look like moving forward. But whatever the outcome, one thing is very clear: the US is divided. One starting place to begin to heal this division is to recognize that even if reality is socially constructed, it feels very "real" to each of us. We all have our lived experiences that shape how we interpret the world. With that said, I do believe there is some "objective reality" out there, although our tools may be imperfect at measuring and describing it (especially when it comes to subjective matters, like cultural identity and meaning). It can be challenging to build bridges across different people, communities, and political parties, but I think by genuinely listening to each other we can begin to build them. This is something each of us can do in our interpersonal relationships specifically -- and in our communities more broadly. In fact, the more conflict there is in a community, the more important listening becomes. And by "listening" I do not mean simply being quiet while someone else is speaking. I mean active listening in which you as the listener paraphrase what the other person just said. In order to paraphrase well, you have to really comprehend what someone else said. It's not enough to repeat it verbatim: comprehension means you can use different words to convey the same message. If the other person thinks your paraphrase is on point, then you've succeeded in really hearing them. Reframing is probably even more useful than paraphrasing for building political bridges. To reframe, one must "read between the lines" in a way that accurately reflects the speaker's thoughts, feelings, and concerns: "Reframe: A KEY opportunity to describe what you believe the other person really wants, which can lead to thinking about constructive solutions to problems. Use neutral language, or err on the side of more positive statements." -- Ann Chastain, MSU Extension (2013) I think this concept is super helpful. In the age of social media, it's very tempting to "spin" what someone else has said to fit our own political agendas. This is not helpful for building bridges.
Active listening on the other hand is a bridge-builder's tool. Reframing in particular helps show people that you understand their pain point -- perhaps even when they themselves are struggling to express it effectively. I think reframing is a way to give people the benefit of the doubt rather than assume they have the worst of intentions. This seems like a healthy and inclusive way to live in a diverse world. Plus, research shows that giving people the benefit of the doubt might even make us happier. So, I'm committing to being a better active listener -- regardless of the outcome of the election.  Photo by LinkedIn Sales Navigator from Pexels Today started off sluggish despite the extra hour of sleep thanks to the end of daylight saving time. I wasn't sure why I felt so lethargic, except that I've been taking melatonin perhaps more than I should. (At least it seems to be working better against my insomnia than the trazodone had been... and it beats taking an antihistamine nightly.)
In any case, as someone who's been dealing with wicked insomnia for months now, I've gotten accustomed to feeling a little brain dead during the day. Fortunately, my sleep has been much better the past two months or so. One thing I thought I'd learned in dealing with insomnia is that if the day is shot -- just accept it. Don't fight against it too much or else it will be sheer misery and you won't really be productive anyway. Do whatever tasks you can do without the use of your greater faculties of mind. Like responding to pesky emails and other figurative and literal housekeeping chores. Today I rejected that idea. Like I said, I was feeling a bit lethargic -- and now it was already after lunch -- but I wasn't suffering from brain fog. In fact, I wondered what would happen if I just sat down and gave it a go at writing. Like they say: just write for 30 minutes and see what happens. I wrote 500 words. Good words too. I got up, stretched, walked around the house -- giddily told my partner what I'd accomplished. Then -- and here's where it gets amazing -- rather than calling it a "success" and being done for the day, I sat back down at the computer. And cranked out another 500 words. Also good ones. Then I got to revising and identifying some research links to track down. Basically, in just a few hours I had achieved something I hadn't been able to get myself to do in a very long time. It was a good day. I even exercised later in the evening. Unbelievable. I plan to floss too before bed. And here I am now writing this little blog post... really altogether a highly productive day in light of my recent record. So what gives? What allowed me to write despite feeling rather "off" today? I think three things. First, I've recently stopped taking a pain medication. I think my recurring brain fog over the past several months was the result of a combination of pain meds, sleep meds, insomnia, and pandemic lock-down syndrome. Without so many meds, I'm sleeping and feeling better. Second, what I thought was tiredness in the morning was probably just boredom. I was feeling like I might as well stay curled up in bed since there was no place to go and no one new to see. Putting my mind to use in a creative endeavor snapped me about of this mental lassitude. The third thing that I think has made a difference is THIS little blog. Even having spent only one week of regular writing (not quite daily, I'll admit) has made a difference in my professional writing. So I'm hooked. I'm gonna keep at it. If this "impulse blogging" is truly having an impact on my more refined formal writing, then this blog is serving an important purpose regardless of whether anyone reads it. That's actually beautifully liberating and empowering: writing to create your own habits of mind! Yes, today was a good day. Here's hoping tomorrow is too. Regardless, I'll be back to further ponder things both serious and silly here at On The Verge of Meaning. |
