Achieving Selfhood
I'm not sure what to think of the idea of "finding yourself."
I know about the opposite end: losing yourself. I've been there and done that, though I didn't realize it for a good, long time. It happens as many things do, in minuscule stages and brief decisions that seem to do no harm. It unfolds like the journey to hell, with the best of intentions, with love and devotion and friendship. I got swallowed up by striving to be the best I could be at school, at home, and in a relationship, until I burnt myself out almost entirely. Nothing could save me from having to deal with everything that had been put off. Nothing could prepare me for just how much had changed.
What I've discovered is that I am not the person I was when I got lost, and the person I've become has as much to do with what I've chosen as it does with what I've stumbled across. I am a believer in the subconscious because I have experienced the things at work below the surface of my thoughts and awareness. I know that not all of this is my conscious doing. But what is my doing comes from the best I've been and the worst I've done.
I didn't take a trip or read a book or chart a timeline for finding myself. I didn't consult the gurus or Google about what to do because I understood that I could only deal with myself if I at last welcomed being lost. I had felt so overwhelmed by the sense of being utterly directionless but the more I reached for shore, the further away it seemed. I was afraid for a while that I would drown in it, but what was exhausting me was the struggle to cling to things I'd had before that might not be able to be recovered. I believed that I could only make it through if I could recapture and rely on things that had slipped away: faith, other people, even the old image of myself.
That was a great milestone for me, understanding the subtle nature of my own denial. But faith and people change.
And change is the watchword of my process. The me I have found will not be the same person I am ten years from now. And that's not just what I intend - it will be that way whether I want it or not.
You find yourself when all of your masks and protections have fallen away - when you are naked and vulnerable and out of your depth, when you have nowhere left to hide and are through with trying to cling to all the things that have failed.
Yes, some things remain the same and always will. There is a core that is Patty; stick around long enough and you can't miss it. But the best I've felt these last few years has come from learning to live with myself the way I would anyone else: learning my likes and dislikes, making room for compromise and alteration, enjoying my own company, and treating myself with the kindness of a guest. True hospitality stems from loving the person you let into your home enough to care for their needs first and foremost.
Finding yourself, as I've experienced it, stems from loving yourself enough to fall into step with your current incarnation, knowing your limits and flaws, knowing that another incarnation will come along someday. Perfection and a final destination are not the goal. Being at home in your own skin is.
It's not just discovery, but achievement.
I know about the opposite end: losing yourself. I've been there and done that, though I didn't realize it for a good, long time. It happens as many things do, in minuscule stages and brief decisions that seem to do no harm. It unfolds like the journey to hell, with the best of intentions, with love and devotion and friendship. I got swallowed up by striving to be the best I could be at school, at home, and in a relationship, until I burnt myself out almost entirely. Nothing could save me from having to deal with everything that had been put off. Nothing could prepare me for just how much had changed.
What I've discovered is that I am not the person I was when I got lost, and the person I've become has as much to do with what I've chosen as it does with what I've stumbled across. I am a believer in the subconscious because I have experienced the things at work below the surface of my thoughts and awareness. I know that not all of this is my conscious doing. But what is my doing comes from the best I've been and the worst I've done.
I didn't take a trip or read a book or chart a timeline for finding myself. I didn't consult the gurus or Google about what to do because I understood that I could only deal with myself if I at last welcomed being lost. I had felt so overwhelmed by the sense of being utterly directionless but the more I reached for shore, the further away it seemed. I was afraid for a while that I would drown in it, but what was exhausting me was the struggle to cling to things I'd had before that might not be able to be recovered. I believed that I could only make it through if I could recapture and rely on things that had slipped away: faith, other people, even the old image of myself.
That was a great milestone for me, understanding the subtle nature of my own denial. But faith and people change.
And change is the watchword of my process. The me I have found will not be the same person I am ten years from now. And that's not just what I intend - it will be that way whether I want it or not.
You find yourself when all of your masks and protections have fallen away - when you are naked and vulnerable and out of your depth, when you have nowhere left to hide and are through with trying to cling to all the things that have failed.
Yes, some things remain the same and always will. There is a core that is Patty; stick around long enough and you can't miss it. But the best I've felt these last few years has come from learning to live with myself the way I would anyone else: learning my likes and dislikes, making room for compromise and alteration, enjoying my own company, and treating myself with the kindness of a guest. True hospitality stems from loving the person you let into your home enough to care for their needs first and foremost.
Finding yourself, as I've experienced it, stems from loving yourself enough to fall into step with your current incarnation, knowing your limits and flaws, knowing that another incarnation will come along someday. Perfection and a final destination are not the goal. Being at home in your own skin is.
It's not just discovery, but achievement.