Am I a name, a profession, values, feelings, education, a sum of knowledge? Are all these facets of me enough to define me? No, but I need to recognize and accept them in order to feel that I live to the fullest, Jean-Louis Servan-Schreiber is sure. A fun activity… for a lifetime.
“It doesn’t look like me at all!”, “I don’t know what came over me, it was as if it wasn’t with me” … It happens that we ask others for indulgence, referring to a kind of right to temporarily lose sight of our real “I”. Sometimes you can hear: “I don’t remember my name anymore!” This signal sounds during periods of great stress, great fatigue, deep doubts – not to mention the altered states of consciousness associated with the use of substances that affect it. Indeed, in the whole world, our main reference point is the consciousness that we exist. That is, we perceive, feel, understand, form an opinion about others, about the situation in which we find ourselves, about what should be done now. And if suddenly we have doubts about this starting point, the problem cannot be avoided. What I am (or think that I am) — this is what serves as a system of life coordinates for each of us. But how do we define ourselves?
Presenting the document at passport control, I am a citizen of my country. At the cradle of the son, I am the father. In bed I am a man. At work, I am an accountant or a lawyer. At a business meeting, I am a senior manager, consultant, or whatever the title is on my business card. All these are my roles, which often replace each other even during one day. They talk about how they see me from the outside, what they expect from me – but these are just a few of my thousands of facets. What’s the point of being an accountant in bed or a senior manager when I have to lull my son to sleep?
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I love symphonic music, I feel uncomfortable at receptions, swimming revives me, loneliness weighs me down. My tastes, emotions and preferences constantly determine my choice. My desires live in me and accompany me, but they are not enough to define me. I vote in every election, I happen to skip the movie line, I feel guilty if I forgot to wish a close friend a happy birthday, I prefer to lie so as not to hurt. My values often predetermine my path, including on the contrary. And I would find it difficult to formulate them in the form of a few simple principles. In addition, I perceive this or that aspect of my personality only through circumstances. Sometimes, I am also surprised by my reaction or my choice, which is “not similar” to what I think about myself, but which reveals to me a side of my being that I have not noticed until now. I know a part of myself, and as I move through life, I discover, even discover, the rest. And this expedition will never end.
What I am is simultaneously what I do, what I feel, what I know, and what others see in me. This last element may burden or disturb me much more than is reasonable. After all, the image of myself that I would like to create for others is much clearer to me than what really happens in me. I received a certain education and chose a certain profession – but was it the result of my deep inclinations or a desire to please my family, to realize the plans that others had for me? I entered into this particular connection, started this relationship – but was it on my own initiative or was I responding to the desire of my partner?
You can ask yourself these questions for years—and for some, that means years of talking to a therapist—before you give them a clear answer. Yet they are fundamental to being able to truly define oneself. Aren’t each of us, early in life, programmed by the education he was given and the values of those around him as a child? It doesn’t matter if we accept them or reject them, in any case, life does not begin with emptiness, but with an overabundance. Gradually coming to separate our real self from what we agree to be for the sake of others is the exciting and relentless work of a lifetime.
What if it’s all an illusion?
“I” for Buddhists is an illusion, the cause of suffering, which is an integral part of human existence.
We suffer because it seems to us that our happiness is connected with the satisfaction – always fleeting – of the needs of this “I”. First of all, says Buddhism, the eight basic material needs. We seek wealth, pleasure, approval, and honor, and try to avoid loss, pain, criticism, and dishonor. However, in reality, “I” does not have its own strong and permanent source of existence. We are the totality of what we have felt, heard, seen or read, the concentrated expression of countless former lives. In essence, everything that makes up our so-called unique “I” comes from outside. In order to find inner peace, Buddhism invites us to recognize that we are just a special case of humanity as a whole, a link in an endless human chain.
We do not always distinguish between what reflects our belonging to something greater and underlies our actions (my homeland, my language, my family, my religion, my social group), and what belongs to our personality, unique in compared to all other people (my body, my mental abilities, my talents and tastes). So it’s not surprising that others identify us with our “categorical affiliation.” Philosopher and academic Michel Serres reminds us that this confusion can lead to terrible crimes. The Holocaust arose out of a generalized perception of millions of individuals based on their only trait, being Jewish. All prejudice springs from this mistake. Which of us will find it pleasant or fair if others begin to perceive him exclusively as a woman or, say, a provincial?
Fortunately, I don’t sit around all day pestering myself with questions about who I am and what I am. When everything goes more or less smoothly, when I smoothly move from one activity to another, from one relationship to another, I can be satisfied with the definition of the humorist Pierre Dac (Pierre Dac): “I am me, I have gone out of myself and into myself. I’ll be back.” However, the slightest snag, the slightest inconvenience, reminds us of what we like and what we cannot bear, what we are able to bear and what we cannot bear, what we hope for and what we fear. In short, it brings us back to our starting point – to ourselves.
Why do we all need to know who we are? Firstly, to exist for real, and not just “as it should be.” The more we know who we are, the more legitimate our desires are and the more we assert our autonomy. The strength of “I want” is taken from the fortress of “I”. Those to whom we say this feel it very well and react accordingly.
To know ourselves, as Socrates instructs us, means to fully understand what makes our life unique and so valuable. But paradoxically, it is also a way to know all of humanity. Is not our inner life the only indisputable experience of human existence that is given to us at our disposal?
And yet, the real test of self-knowledge, the highest experience of self-knowledge, is probably love. The one who loves me tells me in the most convincing and most pleasant way that I exist. And if I lack love, I am no longer so sure of my worth, or of my existence in general. Because it is absolutely impossible for me to know who I am without relying on who I am to others. Our nature, our individuality, is concretely manifested only in a creative act intended for others, or in more or less fruitful communication with those around us. I cannot limit myself to defining myself as a function of others, but I cannot do without others in defining myself.
Probably, this is what makes the mutual communication of representatives of the human race necessary and, in spite of everything, compatible with life.
“I” masculine and feminine
“Who am I?” Write without thinking five answers to this question. Why does such a seemingly simple test catch each of us, make us think or cross out what has been written several times? Opinion of psychologist Natalya Evsikova.
“A blank sheet of paper and an absolutely open question without prompts. There are no external social attitudes here, it is impossible to guess “how it should be” and “how it is right”. This forces us to rely only on self-awareness, on our internal attitudes, and among them the basic ones are those associated with gender stereotypes. The male stereotype implies activity, initiative, rivalry, dominance. Therefore, men define themselves through what they do: profession, sports, study, projects… The female stereotype is focused primarily on experiencing relationships and social roles. Therefore, more often women write a name, marital status (wife, mother of two children, eldest or youngest daughter), describe themselves, their character or condition: sensitive, energetic, in love, happy … That is, something that men are unlikely to write. A woman always remains in that plane of being where emotions predominate, and a man exists in the space of achievements: acting, he feels himself to be the stronger sex.
About it
- Sigmund Freud “I” and “It”, ABC Classics, 2007.
- Carl Gustav Jung “Psychology of the Unconscious”, Canon, 1994.
- Carl Rogers, A Perspective on Psychotherapy. The Formation of Man”, Progress, Univers, 1994.