Awakening to the Eternal

Just be yourself. 

Three simple words we've all heard and probably, at some point, even repeated to ourselves. These words are usually spoken to us by parents, friends, and loved ones - especially when we're young. It's the universal parental advice on the first day of school: just be yourself. Or maybe it's the thing we utter when we're nervous about an impending job interview or before asking out someone we really like. Just be yourself. 

But what is the real meaning behind this common expression? Is being ourselves something we must intend to do to or does it occur naturally? How can we not be ourselves? And what happens to us when we lose our sense of self? 

When I was 20 years old, I was plagued by similar questions and found myself caught up in what's often referred to as a dark night of the soul. I became completely unhinged. It was as if the ground had been pulled out from underneath me. 

For several months, I was anxious, depressed, and on the verge of psychosis. I was truly at odds with my identity and who I believed myself to be. My parents, sensing something was wrong, suggested that I return to England - the country in which I was born - to get in touch with my roots. A few weeks later I was on a plane to the UK with no aim, no motivation, and with my identity hanging in the balance. 

Creation of the false-self 

Like all newborns, I came into this world naked and nameless; a little bundle of beingness, wrapped in blankets and enveloped by the warmth of my two loving parents. Life was merely a fluid experience, a series of moments without any sense of time or notion of a self. 

After a while like this, I began responding to a name, "Michael", and I became aware of a sense of separateness from my mother. I was given cuddly toys and other transitional objects to curb my separation anxiety. At a certain point, I learned to walk and began baby-stepping my way to more independence, autonomy, and my future sense of self. 

Familial and social conditioning ensued for the next twenty years of my life. I developed certain propensities, predilictions and quirks. I dyed my hair different colors, experimented with various styles of fashion and genres of music. I developed specific skills, uncovered unique talents and associated with groups of people similar to myself. I was unconsciously forging what I thought to be a solid sense of self. In turn, my identity was reinforced on all fronts: by my friends, my family, social groups, society, and culture. Everything was working fine, until it wasn't...

Dissolution

Shortly after I turned twenty, a sense of despair, unsatisfactoryness and relentless longing began to develop somewhere deep within me. And although I couldn't pinpoint or articulate what was happening, I began unconsciously responding to these burgeoning and unsettling forces. 

Externally, this manifested in ways that were both dramatic and abrupt: I stopped hanging out with all my friends, I quit my job and broke up with my girlfriend. I essentially stripped everything away that reaffirmed who I thought I was and retreated inside myself. Looking back, I was never in full knowledge of what I was doing - rather, it was as if I was being guided by some deep and innate wisdom.  

This was a dark and terrifying period of my life. It was marked by far-reaching uncertainty and pervasive, fatalistic sadness. It felt as though I were dying, and in many ways I was. This experience is what Carl Jung referred to as an ego-death. The person I was up until that point could not deal with the problems I was facing. I would have to seek out and cultivate a new and updated self, one capable of meeting the spiritual demands that lay before me.

"The snake which cannot shed its skin must die." - Friedrich Nietzsche.

Awakening: rebirth

The year following this spiritual crisis was one of the most profound and numinous of my life. It seemed I had been asking the right questions all along, and the answers were finally starting to reveal themselves to me.

By the time I came back from the UK six months later, my personality and my personal reality had completely flipped. I was now living in a brighter and more expanded version of the world. 

A sense of magic and wonder permeated the very air I breathed. My life was now steeped in awareness, presence, and authenticity. It felt as though I had emerged from a long and tumultuous dream.

On a personal level, my habits and tastes were markedly different than they had been before. I was now a vegan, a voracious reader, and obsessed with seeking answers to the bigger questions. I would spend my days meditating, doing yoga, and reading about different religions and philosophies. I became very selective about who I would spend my time with, and how I would use that time. 

It seemed as though I had it all figured it. My life had a purpose, meaning and it was flowing beautifully, but this seemingly idyllic state was not destined to last forever.

The spiritual-ego and falling into old traps 

The self that I had once been, the one that gave me so much trouble in the past was, as far as I could tell, long and dead. But unbeknownst to me, I had secretly been constructing a new self all along. It was true that this new self lived a more spiritual life, had loftier aspirations, and was, generally, more aware than the previous one, but there was still a problem: it wasn't real. 

It was as though I had simply exchanged old objects, beliefs, and ideas for new ones. It was just another set of constructs. I was still in the business of creating a concept of self. 

I collected not only books but the ideas contained within those books. Concepts rattled around inside me just as they had done before. Sure, there were times, like during meditation, when I would drop the charade and view life with the detachment and equanimity that we read about in Buddhist and yogic literature. But my day-to-day life was still tainted with the beguiling touch of illusion.

Just because I had once awakened from my previous state of slumber, it did not mean I was fully awake.

A perpetual process of becoming

When it comes to the notion of the Self, philosophy, and religion are rife with disparate ideas, beliefs, and perspectives. There is as much conjecture and speculation today as there was 5,000 years ago. 

In my reading and exploration of these various belief systems and philosophical traditions, coupled with my own experience, I have arrived at my own conclusions of what I believe the Self to be; more specifically, what it is not. 

I have learned that true self-discovery is not concerned with building up and creating. Rather, It is a process of stripping away, breaking down, and tearing apart. It is the removal of all that is superfluous and extraneous; all that's been ingrained, conditioned, and imposed. 

I have understood that to be truly awake is to die and be reborn in each moment. And although I am far from fully realizing this truth, it acts as a guiding compass in my life. 

The further I walk on this lonely, enchanting, and treacherous path, the more I'm aware of its circular and cyclic nature. This journey is far from linear and the only map worth following is our own. 

This process of becoming and discovering continually reveals to me, that behind all the walls we build up around ourselves out of fear and uncertainty, there is a wellspring of calm and self-assurance at our disposal. And that however different we all may appear to be, our essential nature is comprised of the same qualities: kindness, compassion, and love. This essence of who we are unites us all.  

This path to Self has taught me that we were not made solely to work our jobs, consume and live passive and ineffectual lives. We each have within us the capacity to grow, evolve and change into better versions of ourselves. A lack of movement only equals stagnation.

I now know that when that which is not is removed, only that which is remains.

In closing

I am more of a friend to myself today than I have ever been. I have felt both tears of sadness, and tears of bliss. I was right there when this body I inhabit learned to crawl, walk and run. I have endured the loss of great friendships and relished the vistas of lofty mountain-summits. I have left home and traveled great distances only to return home once again. And throughout all of these experiences that life has thrown my way, I have been there watching, observing, smiling.

“The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.” - Carl Jung