Sunday, July 31, 2011

The Dance of the Dissident Daughter

"The stupidest norm was happier; he could feel that he belonged. We did not, and because we did not, we had no positive - we were condemned to negatives, to not revealing ourselves, to not speaking when we would, to not using what we knew, to not being found out - to a life of perpetual deception, concealment, and lying."

Yesterday I participated in a mock interview exercise. (I don't really know why I did it; interviews don't scare me. Having to be inappropriately employed scares me...) We got to the end of the mock interview, and the gentleman, in reviewing it with me, says, with all apparent sincerity, "I can tell you're a really genuine person." At which point I almost said "You bought that load of bullshit?!?"

Admittedly it wasn't complete bullshit. But let's just say that the past and I have choreographed a set of moves that hides our respective flaws and that can appear quite... genuine when necessary. Upon reflection, I suspect the gentleman (whom I've known to be quite insightful) might have intentionally planted that statement to cause me to reflect on what I was really doing in playing this game. Why was I so good at projecting a genuineness that wasn't entirely genuine? And why was I willing to do it at all?

If there has been an underlying theme of reflection in my summer thus far, it has been Authenticity. Several autobiographies that chronicle women's struggles to find and be their authentic selves have presented themselves at (one might say) oddly synchronous times. I've lately come to terms with the fact that my weight fluctuates in direct proportion with how (pardon the phrase) inauthentically I'm living at the time. And in a rather uncharacteristic display of temper, I recently lost it at the person who suggested that I "probably shouldn't tell people that you have a Ph.D." (For the record, telling people that I have a Ph.D. is not something I do, but in context, the suggestion was that I should 'dumb down' my level of discourse, especially if I "wanted to attract a husband.") Perhaps my reflecting on authenticity is also what caused me to give the gentleman more credit than he may deserve in making his statement about my genuineness.

Living an 'authentic life' is a hot topic right now in quasi-spiritual literature. "The idea of being authentic has caught our attention much like the word empowered did a few years ago." (q) Despite the prevalence of advice on authentic living, I have not dwelt much on other people's thoughts on the subject. (What can I say? I have a general aversion to received wisdom. People's brutally honest autobiographies, however, are another story.) One meta-reflection has stood out to me though. According to Maslow, "the most basic level of needs must be met before the individual will strongly desire (or focus motivation upon) the secondary or higher level needs." Rough translation - you won't be worrying about "becom[ing] everything that one is capable of becoming" if you are worried about being homeless. That so many people (including my unemployed self) can be concerned at all with living an authentic life says something...

Perhaps the struggle for authenticity isn't what Maslow was referring to in his description of struggling for/towards self-actualization. Maslow did describe self-actualized people as possessing "an unusual ability to detect the spurious, the fake, and the dishonest in personality," as well as "embrac[ing] reality and facts rather than denying truth." Yet you could argue that authenticity is merely one of the characteristics of self-actualization. But if the need for authenticity does not emerge as a part of the need for self-actualization, then where does it come from? What gives rise to the feeling of misery when one compromises authenticity to fulfill the more basic need for (economic) safety?

"Being authentic is being able to say yes when you mean it and no when you need to." (q) And in a world where doing so would not negatively affect your ability to meet any of your lower level needs, you could probably do that. Most of us are stopped from being authentic in that way because we have learned that compromise is necessary in order to meet the needs for safety and love. To suggest otherwise is to suggest a radically different view of what reality is, and leaves us with visions of a universe that rewards desire, want, and selfishness. Dissident thoughts indeed.

One of the few things I remember from Sunday School is that JOY was presented to us as an acronym. In order to have joy in your life, you needed to put Jesus first, Others second, and Yourself last. And indeed, to make misery bearable, we often tell ourselves that love is putting yourself last. So which is it? Putting yourself first and living 'authentically', or putting yourself last in the spirit of service to others/a higher purpose? Ironically, both perspectives are attached to 'spiritual' ideas about what reality is - ideas that provide justification and reward for those who follow their tenets, though the rewards take radically different forms.

Perhaps the truth is simply that people will be as selfish as they can comfortably be in any given situation, and will adopt whatever philosophy (or combination of philosophies) is necessary in order to feel better about their choices...

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Avoiding Stultifying Affairs

"One must avoid stultifying affairs."

During this heat wave I'm enticing myself to get up and walk very early in the morning by listening to Walter Isaacson's biography of Einstein on the ipod while I walk. This morning I got to the portion of Einstein's life where he is unemployed after graduation. A friend offers to help Einstein obtain a job at his company: an offer that Einstein refuses with the proclamation that "one must avoid stultifying affairs." I laughed when I heard that.

Currently unemployed myself, I have recently submitted a number of applications for positions that I find to be... less than optimum. I feel decidely unhappy when I do this, in marked contrast to the surprising feeling of general well-being that has pervaded my days since becoming unemployed. Past experience indicates that I should be feeling quite anxious given my situation. And we constantly hear about how difficult it is to find a good job these days, which should only add to my anxiety. Intellectually, I know that this means I should leave no stone unturned in my job search, including those stones that aren't so shiny, but emotionally... Emotionally, I seem to disagree, feeling anxious only when I apply for a position that I don't particularly want.

For awhile now I've been wondering about my general lack of anxiety. My past experience with unemployment says that I should be feeling highly anxious. The idea that I should be feeling anxious is supported by Maslow's hierarchy of needs: the second need in the pyramid being the need for safety, including economic safety. And I'm certainly not sitting on a pile of money. However, instead of feeling anxious, I feel relatively calm. The disparity has been great enough to prompt some introspective spelunking in an attempt to answer the question: From what wellspring issues forth this fountain of tranquility?

Have I reached a threshhold of sustaining metaphysical belief? Is this feeling of well-being externally imposed? Have I been doing something that has managed to supplant my feelings of anxiety? Or is it simply that I currently have a day-to-day existence that is almost completely free of "stultifying affairs"?

Einstein's phrase has been stuck in my head all day. It occurred to me that there are actually two possible ways to interpret it. 1) One must avoid those situations (affairs) which, by their nature, render one incapable of enthusiasm. 2) One must avoid bringing about a state of affairs that thwarts one's own interests, such as taking a job that does not represent a change for the better in one's life. Either interpretation represents wisdom, IMHO.

Today I decided to avoid stultifying affairs by spending a few hours blogging.