This question — asked so often — suggests that there is actually a plausible answer. Almost as if our being were a fixed thing. People who ask this sort of question are typically struggling with their identity and are searching for a core sense of themselves. The irony is that the more you seek to identify who you
are, the more fragile you are likely to feel about yourself. There may be an inverse correlation between the question being asked and the ease with which you experience your life. The emphasis shouldn’t be on discovering who you
are (what is buried beneath) but on facilitating the emergence of what you’d like to experience.
Our identity should be seen as an ongoing process. Rather than a static snapshot, we should embrace a flowing sense of self, whereby we are perpetually re-framing, re-organizing, re-thinking and re-considering ourselves. How different would life be if rather than asking who am I, we contemplated how we’d like to engage life?
A sense of inadequacy often informs the question around “who am I?” As people engage the deepening complexity of understanding themselves, they would fare much better to devote themselves to the unfolding process of life. Witnessing our thoughts, not reacting out of old habit, and becoming present enable us to better craft our lives. As such, the identity that we seek fires the wave of life, enriched by the flow.
Imagine that you’ve been in prison for twenty years, incarcerated since the age of eighteen. You literally have no adult life experience outside of the penitentiary. Your sense of self is tragically limited. You might ask yourself, “Who am I? This would likely provoke a fragile sense of self that paradoxically might leave you most apprehensive about your imminent release. You’d hardly choose to remain imprisoned until you could find your identity. You’d have to permit that new sense of self to flow from your new experiences.
I have worked with people who have been married more or less for their entire adult lives. Upon divorce they are often confronted with a distressing thought. They claim that they don’t know who they are. More to the point, they may not know who they are as a single, autonomous adult, not partnered. After all, how could they? Rather than remaining mired in fear, you’d need to summon up a sense of wonder and adventure. There is a new sense of self waiting to be born. You get to re-craft yourself along the way.
At the other end of the identity continuum are those who claim to know themselves so well. This other extreme also signifies a fragility about one’s identity. To know yourself so well, leaves no room for growth. Even more, it suggests a deep vulnerability that is being defended against — as if it were too dangerous to take a closer look.
It makes perfect sense to seek a deeper sense of self. To become intimately aware of your thoughts, feelings, hopes and fears is obviously advisable. The key is to engage your sense of self as malleable, more like a willow tree than a sturdy oak. The willow is flexible and survives the storm as it bends with the wind, whereas the more rigid oak is more likely to crack.
The universe purportedly exists in a state of flowing potential. And it is essential to understand that we are indeed part of that universe. The goal then is to access that potential, keeping the parts of our identity that continue to serve us well and shedding the old, habitual pieces that constrain us. This process is known as positive disintegration. This permits us to find balance between the extremes previously discussed and enter into a relationship with self that commits to our personal evolution.
And some of my ow meandering throughts ...
I thought this was a well considered opinion of the concept of learning about self.
I agreed with the idea of the willow tree. Getting to understand myself in the varied situations life brings is important I believe. Forever taking steps to bring to my consciousness my motives, my emotions, my thoughts, my beliefs and questioning those too. Being curious for the purpose of obtaining THE knowledge reminds me of the oak tree referred to. It's too rigid, no flexibility, no give, no humanness. Curiosity though can be wonder and awe. Curiosity killed the cat they say, but curiosity can also be a useful contributor in creating awareness and providing newness and adaptability. Taking a moment to assess my inquisitive agenda is a useful tool.
Then I begin to see who I am rather than s who I am.
I also like the suggestion that who I am is informed by who I've been. This can be limiting in itself and so the positive thinking about every new experience being and adventure and an opportunity can relieve me from the constant fear I live in. Yet I have the desire for adventure and new experiences. There is a big wide world out there but there is a bigger world inside that often goes unexplored. For every situation wouldn' it be fun and interesting to take a look inside and experience both simultaneously. I have thrilling moments of self awareness. A real sense of "oh, that's why", when I really sense the something inside coordinating with the something outside.
And the idea that who I am is ever shifting according to the current environment. But to know that my perception is influenced from experiences from the past. And each of those experiences has been guided by my perspectives from before that and so on. I truly believe that my sense of the world, everything and everyone in it starts at conception. Sameroff's Transactional Analysis applies from that very moment. He attempts to present a simple model of the complexity of being a being on this complex and delicate interconnections of this planet. How awesome is that? I get an acceptation of the magnitude of the Universe. Al the energies flowing and complimenting or contrasting or conflicting. When I can go with the flow of that i realise I don't need to understand, it just is and I am simply a part of "it" all. The problem arises when I am afraid and want to know absolutely. When I want certainty. When I am desiring to know then there is likely to be fear. I can take a look at the fear the more conscious I become. And then I have the chance to go through the fear. I can accept it as a part of who I am. Like the prisoner stepping out of prison for the first time in 25 years. It must be a terrifying experience. I suppress that fear for the fear of being vulnerable and being taken advantage of. That's my experience somehow of being vulnerable. I can look back and see how situations thought my childhood development have contributed to that perception that the unknown is frightening. Equally I can see the influence on my need to cover up vulnerability. And that is no ones, absolutely no one, fault. Each of us throughout the generations are simpy trying to do our best but we are defective and that's that. I have some understanding of why my dad behaved in the way he did and still does. He has to cover his vulnerability. When I've stopped to listen to his stories of his own past, his experiences taught him to find coping strategies that were probably taught to him and taught from the previous generation and the generation before that and so on. The lessons get distorted and contorted and adapted to the current social influences no doubt. The end result is in my behaviours, attitudes, beliefs, thoughts, and emotions today. What I can do is sift out what is actually not working anymore and with help learn new ways of being that are more conducive to who I want to be.
And this is where I like the idea in the Blog that as I become more conscious I am better able to choose who I would like to be and explore within the situation how I can achieve that.
Just some ideas from the armchair, theory is great but action is the evidence of knowledge, that I thought I'd share with you. I would be very interested to know what your interpretation of this might be if you feel so inclined to share them with me.
Bliss
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The Good Samaritan by William Hogarth