The false-self is a mosaic of reflections of social expectations, met and unmet, manifested and embodied like body-theiving spirits, like stereotype and research bias.
We affirm our imagination with magic wands and pixie dust, belief systems that conform to meet our social needs. Group think is psychological democracy, and I am still the minority.
This is not an argument against the validity of demographic identity.
Whomever you are, however you identify, you are valid. Your identity is valid.
This is less about identity and more about True Self, the nature of the soul.
Who am I?
“Sacred Journey” by Michael Reeder
I’ve spent my whole life shape-shifting into the ever-changing illusions and shadows of the person standing in front of me. It was once a survival skill, to shrink my truth and behave exactly as expected, to run and hide from the pyre of too-much-otherness.
I’d been fragmenting myself, creating energetic templates, modeled after the safe standard, like prosthetic dicks and theatre masks, handy in my apron pocket. I’ve collected quite a few.
Not to mention my own projections, mistaking me for you.
But they only lasted as long as my fuse, short or long-suffered, ego death is inevitable.
The social constructs of identity: gender, race, political affiliation, class, religion, nationality, etc. They may signal silhouettes, but cannot define the soul, which live eternally outside these tiny but amusing, jack-in-the-boxes.
The problem with psychological democracy is that people are generally stupid. Most would rather follow the crowd than accept the responsibility required to lead oneself.
To think, all is Mind.
If we unravel the webs of the outdated roles we cast for ourselves and others, and recalibrate our sense of identity, what would we choose as our foundation?
To begin, the roots of our soul’s past, our ancestor’s stories, they are mythologies’ secret guides, mapped out over the night sky.
It’s true that we don’t know where we are going unless we know where we’ve been.
I remember where I’ve been.
I’d been beckoned to the dark side.
They told me I needed to see the things that happened in the shadow realm, to watch the night goblins feed.
Abuela, she insisted I bear witness.
I was disturbed, yet lucid.
The Demon, she said, “Never forget what you witnessed here.”
While the Angel, she said,
“Remember your Truth.”
It took years to realize that they gave the same advice.
To hold opposing polarities. To balance and harmonize. To walk in both worlds.
Okay, okay, I get it. I’ve seen a few monsters. You’re saying my identity is a vampire slayer? Demon killer?
You’re still thinking of identity in terms of vocation. Why are you in a rush to summarize?
It’s late. I’m exhausted.
Alright then. I’ll just say it.
If your identity is tied to a career, social construct, or role that allows others to recognize “who you are,” then your identity is subject to the expectations placed on you by that society, as you will repress the parts that do not meet those standards. Everyone does this to an extent. It’s the nature of social creatures.
But if your identity is based on the embodiment of your highest values and the acceptance of your flaws, you won’t carry the weight of social expectations. You are free to be who you are, to express your otherness, and to learn from your mistakes.
Okay. My identity is based on growth, integrity, and freedom.
Hold that in your heart.
And your flaws?
I’m working on patience, stillness, and receptivity, as I accept where I am today.
Buenas, Mijo. Now go to sleep.