Identity can be beautiful.
I think we’ve sort of agreed not to discuss the wonderful parts of a strong identity because they can so easily turn sour. But people with clear senses of self, style and taste are wonderful to spend time with. In this respect, I want my identity to be larger not smaller. I want to explore as many things as my curiosity can count and to keep records of these explorations and artifacts from my adventures. Life, and identity, should have color and texture.
I just don’t want it to be fragile or rigid. I don’t want it to depend on others seeing it and nodding approvingly. I don’t want it to rely on a specific project, career, interest, hobby, or object. I am the thing that does things, not the things themselves.
I don’t really enjoy discussions about ego-death, the illusion of self, or other related ideas. I had a phase where these topics interested me in high school. I listened to a lot of Alan Watts and Terence McKenna. But as I got older the insights these conversations yielded (on podcasts or at friends of friends’ parties) seemed stale.
That said, I do think there is a lot of wisdom in being careful about bringing new identities into your life. It’s like overpacking for a short trip. With each new idea of yourself that you attach importance to, your burden gets heavier.
In the short term, I can often feel possessive over particular projects and hobbies of mine. Many of these, of course, are shared with a much larger group but that doesn’t stop them from feeling like mine. Sometimes I feel slighted when some unknowing stranger walks onto the lawn of my identity without the proper bonafides (acknowledgement, proof of knowledge, different approaches or opinions). This is silly, but it happens.
So, what does matter about my identity? I have already discovered many authentic parts of myself, the things I genuinely love doing and would do even if no one knew I was doing them. Isn’t that the part of “identity” that matters? Much more than the words we use to describe ourselves or the outward clothes and accessories we wear as a shortcut to being understood. Those shallow forms of “identity” are really how we want to be seen much more than how we feel to ourselves. And whenever something depends on how other people perceive us, there is a risk of us conforming to those perceptions. This is clearest with influencers and celebrities, or anyone with a meaningful audience. The algorithm and audience reward certain parts of each creator’s personality or interests, and then they begin to bend their work to that narrower and narrower sliver of themselves. It doesn’t even have to be in pursuit of applause or approval (social reward). Market forces can also bend people into strange shapes (financial reward). Product Market Fit is good for startups, but not people. You don’t want to niche away your fullest self for money or attention. This doesn’t just apply to people with audiences or products out in the market either. Aren’t we rewarded socially and financially for our career choices? Where we go to college or choose to live? Over time, as we make trade offs on our authenticity for social or financial reward, I think we can’t help but start to bend our identities to fit our deviations from ourselves. No one I know of can consciously play a role in their real lives that is too far outside of their identity for long, eventually we have to change our identity to align with our decisions. We have to become “fiscally conservative” or “business savvy” if we’ve made tradeoffs for wealth, we start identifying as a “struggling artist” or “tortured poet” if we’ve made tradeoffs for freedom.
Because of these risks I try to keep my identity small, not in a Buddhist way or New Age way, but rather in an effort to focus on what matters to me over the long term without drifting into new identities.
So again, what are the long term things worth focusing on in this respect?
In the long term here is what I care about: doing the work I love and getting to know (and work with) creative and curious people. That’s pretty much it, plus the ability to do those two things for a long time (implying health, financial stability, and happiness). As far as what I want to be seen as, that’s pretty much the gist of it.
So I’ll ask myself here:
what do I lose when someone else fails to recognize a part of me I wish they saw?
what do I lose when someone has a similar idea to an idea I’ve had? (I originally wrote: “copies an idea I’ve had”…. so possessive!)
what do I lose when the work I am most proud of hasn’t been recognized by the amount of people, or specific people I’d like it to be recognized by?
what do I lose when someone misunderstands me or disagrees with an idea of mine or a part of me?
The answer to all of these is, say it with me, nothing. I get to continue working on the projects and hobbies that are most dear to me whether anyone notices them or not, or plays in similar hills and valleys, or misunderstands the person I feel I am. I get to keep having the ideas and opinions I have until I decide to stop.
The only one who can prevent me from doing the things I identify with, is me.
Keeping this in my back pocket all summer