Who Am I?

New Principles, Number 5

Letters, we get letters! I'm pleasing myself with the quality of the letters arriving daily here at Into the Centre. The latest comes from John, who writes:

One of the questions you ask a lot in your writings, several times in "Orbits", is for each of us to ask ourselves is "Who Am I"? I seem to have difficulty with this question. I can describe myself in my various roles, a male, a father, an ex-husband, a friend, a chartered accountant, someone who likes to do different things, e.g.. dance, work-out at the gym, walk, bike etc., etc.

I can describe all my likes, and dislikes, my history, my hopes for the future, my emotional and reactive patterns, all the things about myself of which I am currently aware. But who am I really? Do all of these things describe me? How would you describe yourself? How might I describe "me"?

Perhaps this something you might want to write about in ITC. I would enjoy seeing what you have to say.

Well, there's an interesting question, if I do say so. To work backward, I might quickly say, "I am the sum total of all of me - physically, mentally and spiritually. I am the sum total of my experiences and my understandings. I am the sum total of (to quote Ben & Jock, and last week's article,) my authentic, actual and ideal selves. HOWEVER, as I live in the world, I am only that which I choose to accept, integrate, and express."

Most of us have a limited range of "self," based upon denial and repression. I endlessly refer to my "reconstruction" articles, and continue to indicate that socialization caused us to learn to block those aspects of our selves that others considered to be unacceptable. This socialization process is necessary, AND it also needs to come to an end. Growing up is getting over screaming at the top of our lungs, "This is whom my past and my parents made me. I am stuck with this forever. You'll just have to deal with it."

It takes rigorous work to delve into the unexplored regions of our repressed material, and to unearth parts of our personalities that others have helped us to repress. Again, the goal is not simple intellectual identification - the goal is acceptance. And with the acceptance comes the choice of expression. It's that last one that seems to be the issue these days.

Take anger. I'm thinking of this, having just finished reading Joann Peterson's Anger, Boundaries and Safety. Joann is a good friend from pd seminars, and along with Ben & Jock, one of several people who walked with Dar and me when the "church thing" happened. Her book's a month old, and a good read.

Anger is an ingredient in the lives of everyone. Anger is a secondary emotion, often masking a hurt. Our way of expressing, dealing with or stuffing anger is learned behaviour. Joann's book provides a multitude of safe ways to express anger. This is key.

From a Bodywork perspective, the repression of emotion (which is a significant "part" of us) is a leading cause of illness and blocked life energy. The expression of emotions, then, leads to better health, and a sharing of this aspect of our selves. On the other hand, the mindless, undisciplined expression of anger has another name - violence.

Now, some have learned to deny their anger, and thereby go through life stuffing it. They may choose indirect anger as an expression. Some have become "entitled," and from this side of the equation, figure they have the right to dump their anger whenever and wherever they choose.

Joann makes the following point, and it fits with my "answer," above: once we recognize that our emotions are a part of us, and that all that goes on inside of us is us, we will not want to settle for anything less than full expression of who we know ourselves to be today. HOWEVER, and here is the kicker, this expression (again, using anger as an example) needs to be in one of two ways:

1) I have the right to express my anger in private - i.e. by myself, punching a heavy bag, hitting a mattress with a tennis racquet.

2) I have the opportunity to request time and space to release my anger, under controlled conditions, with others.

Notice that last one. I do not have the right to impose my anger (or any other of my emotions or games) on others. If I do, if I storm around, screaming at someone, yelling, blaming, whatever, I am committing violence.

Thus, one mark of maturity is the ability to ask for permission. It is thus a letting go of childish entitlement. This is the discipline piece I talk a lot about. I do not allow myself to be a loose cannon, not if I want to truly know myself. I am, rather, quite capable of choosing, all the way along, how I will express who I am, and with whom. Not to be congratulated, not to elicit a response from the "adoring masses," but simply as a means of digging into my own depth.

As I own my anger, for example, I move from denial to acceptance. As I own my bratty, entitled 6-year-old, I also choose to express his needs directly, instead of through whining and misdirection. And, emphatically, as I own my deep desire to do something stupid - something that I know will damage me and my relationships, I can, in that moment, and the next, make better choices.

Those of you who have been reading Into the Centre for some time will know I have another teaching book, as well as a novel, on the go. Molasses in terms of my writing, and one day I'll finish. The novel concerns Roberta Thatcher, a woman on a quest to find her self. She works for a company, B & B, which focuses on self-exploration. Through the use of a guidebook, The Book of Seven, the powers that be help Roberta to dig deep. Here's an excerpt from the book - a section of The Book of Seven:

Ever notice how much time you spend being distracted? When you are distracted, off in la la land, you are doing one of two things. You are either reviewing the past or planning the future.

Now, what’s wrong with that? Nothing, in moderation. It’s when your focus is mostly in the past or in the future that the trouble starts. Why? Because you are not here, and here is where the action and the juice is.

Roberta thought of Claire. Claire seemed to be on the edge of "here and now" all the time. She felt like drugs, she took them. She wanted sex, she had sex. She hated school, she didn’t go. And now, she was passed out in the guest bedroom, hopefully sleeping off the effects of her all too real trip from home to here, with God only knew how many stops along the way.

Roberta then thought of Blaine and especially about that line of his about this being a crucial stage for her. What did he say? "Roberta, this is one of those moments when everything you are learning is on the line." Everything on the line for her. How could that be? This all seemed so normal, so a part of her past life. She could not remember the number of times things — relationships, situations — had seemed to be going so well, and then, BOOM, they ended. Crashed and burned. This was just one more experience in a never-ending story that always ended the same way. Roberta would be alone, in pain, and none the wiser. With a sigh, she continued reading.

Perhaps you’ve noticed a pattern to your life. You seem to play at life, rather than passionately engaging it. In order to be passionate, you have to be present.

Being present is about being available. Roberta, you’ve been here for more than a year now, and I hardly know you. I mean the real you, the one that hides behind the masks. You reach out in predictable ways, but often it feels hollow. What, do you suspect, would it be like to take the risk of being yourself?

"Myself? I AM myself! Sure, there are parts of myself that I don’t trot out at a moments notice, but you can’t be too careful."

You’re way too careful, Roberta. We do this to ourselves to keep from being exposed and vulnerable, but all that happens is that our relationships are thin and shallow. To come into the moment is to realize that you are who you are right now. You don’t have to spend your life bemoaning your past or continually reliving it. You may choose to, but you don’t have to.

Roberta closed her eyes. She was on the edge of seeing something here, but her anxiety grew with her understanding. "You’re asking me to give up my identity. All these years of building a sense of myself, learning to protect myself. What am I supposed to do, run down the street naked?"

It’s not about giving up on your identity, although, if you do this work, that identity will fall away. It’s about recognizing that you are not happy. You are not content. There is no meaning for you. All there is is a repeat of past behaviours and understandings. You are locked into a familiar place, and you fear leaving it. Yet, to be whole, leave it you must.

"How?," Roberta asked.

You leave it by entering into the fear and anxiety of being whole. You thoroughly disengage your energy and support from everything that does not lead you in a direction you wish to go. You find people to be completely open and honest with. You do away with living in the past or fearing the future, and choose to embrace today.

It is time to decide, Roberta. More than a year here, and you are halfway through The Book of Seven. What’s taking you so long? It is time to decide. In order to truly become whole, you must choose to speak the truth of yourself. We come to you as your friends, and ask you, "Will you be real?" We want to know you, but first of all, you must know you.

You live behind some very thick walls, Roberta. The thickest is your faith in your mind. You think that you can solve the riddle of you with your mind alone. In truth, all you have ever learned to do with your mind is to spend your life regretting your past and fearing your future.

You are a very smart woman. But learning to know you is not done through brainpower. It is done through countless acts of self-revelation with a person or persons you trust. You are blind to what is happening, as we all are, left to our own devices. Take Claire.

Roberta’s head snapped up. The house was silent. She remembered that she was reading The Book. Such sentences in The Book were to be expected.

Claire firmly believes, in her own head and in her own way, that her parents hate her and that she is incredibly hard done by. She feels so bad about herself that she abuses her body with huge quantities of drugs. She hates the way she looks, so she treats her body with disrespect. She does not love or respect her self, nor her sexuality. As she has told you, she is quite proud of being willing to do anything with anyone.

Think about it. Claire has a view of her self. The condition she is in is a direct result of how she sees herself. Now, imagine what would happen if we simply encouraged her to "work it out on her own."

You’re likely thinking that she would stay the same or get worse, because she cannot see how to step out of her own view of her self. You are thinking that she has to talk to someone who will listen and help her to talk through all of her pain. She needs to make a pact with someone who knows more than she does. That person will make a pact with her, to be honest, to reveal herself to Claire and to help Claire to reveal herself to her mentor.

Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with you. You and your sister are very much alike. You hide behind your intelligence and your creativity. Which are two reasons we hired you, by the way. We offer you a mirror to see yourself, and you run away. We offer dialogue and you pull back. You tell us you’ll do it yourself, and we know that this is impossible. We couldn’t. Neither can you.

You have to trust, Roberta. You have to believe that you can be real with yourself and with others. This is a process of living nowhere else but in the here and now. Will you do it?

For each of us, the path to self-knowledge is a circle. We go inside and review what we are about, what we "know" and what we are enacting. We look for blocks, fears, terrors. We then make a pact to reveal our thoughts, feelings, fears, joys with a select few - a principal partner, therapist, spiritual director, bodyworker. We devise ways to let down the walls and let out the repressed material. We then commit to the discovery of other ways of enacting our being. We don't just keep stuffing our stupidities down other people's throats. To paraphrase Ken Wilber, with flavours of The Phoenix, we access, we accept, we express, we transcend and we include. Again, and again, and again.

More, next week!