We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.
~ Kurt Vonnegut
from Mother Night
still I wonder: isn’t there a rock-solid unchanging
“me”
hidden somewhere underneath it all?
This unexamined self feels like an isolated, self-sufficient, permanent individual,
essentially separate from others and all that surrounds it. Yet even a few moments
of self-reflection suggests otherwise. My body is not the same as when I was eight
or eighteen years old. If all humans are mortal, then my life will also end,
exact time of departure unknown. Similarly, all my feelings of happiness and sadness
come and go, arise and cease, changing gradually or suddenly,
but always, inevitably, changing.
Looking closely, I also see that I’m not a self-contained, entirely independent individual.
I need food, water, and air to survive. I speak and write a language generously passed on to me
by others from long ago. I engage in everyday activities that were all part of my cultural training
from childhood onward: brushing my teeth, exchanging greetings of “good morning”
and saying “good night,” attending ceremonies, weddings, funerals.
Even at the most basic level of existence, I did not arise as a spontaneous,
self-created human being. I was born and nurtured through the union and love
of my parents, and they are also descendants of many ancestors before them.
We are all “dependently related” beings, developing and aging in rapidly changing societies.
When we conduct our lives as though, all evidence to the contrary, we are separate,
permanent, unitary selves, we find ourselves constantly living in fear of the large,
looming shadow of change. Actions based on a mistaken sense of self, or “ego,”
as an unchanging, isolated essence are filled with anxious struggle.
We fight many futile battles against the way things actually are. How are they really?
They are changing, connected, fluid. It’s as though we are standing waist-deep
in the middle of a rushing river, our arms outstretched wide,
straining to stop the flow.
This mistaken sense of self arises as a solidified set of beliefs about who we are
and how the world is. When we proceed on that basis, all our life experiences are filtered
through a rigorous, simplistic, for-and-against screening process:
“Will this person or event enhance my permanent sense of self?
Will this encounter threaten the ideas I’ve already accumulated?”
Believing the inner voice of deception, we grasp and defend and ignore in service to an illusion,
causing suffering for ourselves and others.
Letting go of the false sense of self feels liberating, like being released from a claustrophobic prison
of mistaken view. What a relief to discover that we don’t have to pretend to be something
we’re not! The initially surprising and challenging news of “no solid self”
turns out to be a gentle invitation into a more spacious approach to living
and being with others. Releasing fixation on permanence goes hand in hand
with taking brave steps toward more communication and harmony in our lives,
our actions, our relationships, and our work.
We might call this fluid inter-being an “open self,” one that is more sensitive
to other living beings and nature. This open sense of self allows us to proceed from empathy
and compassion for ourselves and for those suffering around us and elsewhere.
With the dissolving of the seemingly solid walls of ego’s fragile tower, our experience is porous
and permeable, less cut off and isolated. As we gradually release the old commitment
to conquering the unconquerable, to denying the undeniable, we explore the many genuine
and fresh possibilities in our ever-changing situation.
~ Gaylon Ferguson
with thanks to Lion's Roar
