The enemy within

Commenting on my last post, an insightful reader by the name of Rebecca Leigh discussed the incredible pressures we feel to conform to the expectations of our ‘nearest and dearest’.

I’m glad she did.  Although I have referred several times to the pressure our culture places on us to conform, I confess that I have been avoiding the issue when it comes to friends and family. 

Steven Forrest talks of ‘agents within the city walls, spies whose task it is to open up the gates from the inside’. They are our friends and family members. Often they are our parents. They love us, sure. They want the best for us. But that is a far cry from saying they understand us.

Forrest’s language – ’spies’, ‘agents’ – is extreme, but I think necessarily so. It’s a wake-up call.

You know what I’m talking about. 

For want of a better example, let’s take my decision to start a blog.  In the first place, I was hesitant to share my plans with most of my friends and family – fearing that, if they were less than 100% supportive, it would put a damper on my enthusiasm.  When I did speak up, the response varied.  Some people were hugely supportive.  Others didn’t say anything much.  And at the other end of the spectrum, one person simply said: ‘You know no-one will ever read it’.  Ouch. 

Imagine if we never did anything at all, simply because other people ‘knew’ it wouldn’t be worthwhile! 

Ok, maybe my blog isn’t the best example.  Not a lot of people do read it.  But many more do than I ever imagined.  More importantly, it has helped my writing and learning practice enormously.  And most importantly by far – I did it.

We each live in our own inner world, seeing ourselves and others through the filter of our own perceptions.

It helps to remember that when other people criticise us, they are simply verbalising their own fears. Desperately trying to shore up their own self-esteem.

Of course by the time we realise this, we’ve already soaked up an incredible amount of negativity.  Especially as children, when we were so dependent and so defenceless against the onslaught.  Rebecca, for example, was told repeatedly throughout her childhood and early adulthood that her natural inclination towards introversion was selfish. ‘How much personal growth was stunted by this demonisation of the simple act of looking inwards?’ she asks. 

It’s heartbreaking.  And it’s not even unusual.  When I was about eight years old, I rememember my mother asking me why I couldn’t be normal ‘like all the other children’.  An off the cuff remark that I have replayed in my mind, and used to beat myself up with, on countless occasions.

Now that we are all grown up, we have a choice. 

We can let outside opinion beat us down before we’ve even started.  Or we can be mindful of the ‘inner filters’ of ourselves and others, and do it – whatever it is! – anyway.

Living together with other people means that we can’t all go around doing whatever the heck we feel like.  But it’s important to not become habitually agreeable to the extent that we hobble ourselves with ‘I should’ and ‘I can’t’ and ‘What will people think’. 

That’s easier said than done – but then the most important things always are.

I believe that the path to freedom is self-knowledge. 

We can never really understand other people.  The filter of our perception is always there.  So at least allow some time and space to know yourself.  To recognise yourself, as great and as yuck as you can be. 

It’s frightening.  It’s boring.  It’s exhilarating.  Ultimately, it’s all we’ve got.

____________

Of course the flipside is: we are the spies within the city walls of others!  Scary thought…