Egocentrism

The more I learn about postmodernism, the more of an acrid aftertaste it leaves in my mouth. I guess my biggest problem with much of this postmodern progression is how very egocentric it is. Me me me. I want, need, think, feel. It is not ignorant of this, the postmodern Self knows exactly what neurosis and idiosyncrasies plague it, and this makes it jaded.

It would be a lie to call this calling out purely observational, hypo-critical even if I did not include mySelf among the masses I have a problem with. Despite my distaste of postmodernism, I revel in it. These explorations of thought: radical feminist, deconstructionist, Marxist, post colonial, et al. are the academic waters in which I swim. The ocean has lost its salt and I have a hard time seeing the humanity in these humanities.

Jaded in this academia, disillusioned by the yo-yo movements of what it means simply to exist (see Martin Heidegger's Being and Time or any offshoot related work for how complicated that can get) it seems like they forget to exist. Action versus Intention, Cause vs. Effect, I'm not advocating this. To exist with no thought, to act with no consideration of the consequences is irresponsible, but so too is the converse.

It's a balancing act. 

But that's classic me.

"ace you have a formula for answering questions and it kinda bugs me the 'well lets think about it intelligently and use logic while respecting difference."

Reading that hurt, but I refuse to be offended by Cody's comment because it's true. I wouldn't be me if I didn't answer questions like that. If it makes me boring, makes me predictable, makes me infuriatingly passive, rational, what-the-hell-ever, so be it. I'm being the me I choose to be. I could have answered the original question (should I migrate to twitter) with a straight up no, but where's the fun in that?

To give my opinion as such is pseudo-altruistic. Pseudo because it is my opinion, but still somewhat altruistic in that it tries to provide something beyond that opinion. It allows for the possibility of other options.

This whole post is "respecting differences." I cannot simply dismiss something just because I disagree with it. I can't even make myself want to without first considering it as fully as I can.

I've talked a lot with theLittleBirdChelsea about introversion/extroversion in the last few weeks. ChelseaDagger and quite a few of our mutual friends are introverts. I'm very clearly an extrovert. It's a fundamental difference that I feel leaves me at a disadvantage since I cannot identify with certain thought processes and facets of what it means to be an introvert.

It's too incompatible for my sense of empathy to process. It is other not in the Heideggerian sense, the inclusive other, so much as the Sarterian reference. I am the exclusively excluded other from the introvert paradigm, and it is a symptom of society that this results in the ostracism of introverts unless they are willing to adapt and conform to a predominantly extroverted society.

At one point, in one of my conversations with Chelsea, I mentioned how in retrospect, I'm very clearly drawn to introverted personalities because -- and I think this is the exact wording I used -- as an extrovert, I can help bring them out of themselves. She went on to comment about how this is a common misconception and that most introverts don't actually need to be brought out and indeed, putting them in social situations where they're surrounded by people actually can cause them a lot of stress.

Much as I love her, I really just wanted to tell Chelsea to shut up right then. Ego time! I wasn't talking about socially. The way she was talking about the dynamic, I might as well have told her that introverts are broken and as an extrovert I can fix them. No.

As an extrovert with a desire to be more empathetic and therefore open to listening and attempting to understand the other side, whether I can or not remains to be seen, I have the ability to provide the kind of balanced social interaction that would not be overwhelming more so than general company. I am an outlet and a catalyst, a doorway that always remains open. I pressure you in that I am a presence you cannot forget or ignore. I include you only as far as you want to be included and resist the kind of pressures that make the introvert feel like there is no choice.

Put another way, I can act as a buffer. You can be yourself around me and I can bring that self with me. In short: Use me.

This life isn't about me. I don't want it to be about me. Screw ego. Screw "me/I." But to do this, to move beyond this ego, I need to create or perhaps recreate myself  as something, as someone that is beyond ego, that is altruistic: marked by selflessness.

But as my friend JoeJack would probably say, "That isn't real though. That's false altruism. It's another damn performance, another role you make for yourself, it's not the real you."

I am whatever the hell I want to be and anyone who tells me differently can shove it. If you care, if you want it, if you have a genuine, sincere, authentic heart behind whatever you project to the world, that is what you are.  Because that is what you make it, and it is what others perceive. Identity is not static. Who I am changes, so why can't I choose how it changes?

I fill these roles. Constantly I fill them and I shift from one to another to another. Seamlessly so that you would not notice the difference. Why aren't they who I am? Why aren't they a part of what makes me me? No one else fills the roles I do the way I do. Exist, let yourself exist. You're filling roles, you're always filling roles and you can't always change that, you can't always break out of those roles. I understand this.

To change roles has consequences. That's another thing Chelsea and I talked about. The consequences sometimes remove your choice or ability to change roles. As Chelsea stressed to me, for the introvert, to exist outside of your role is to ostracize yourself because unlike the extrovert, you cannot relate to people outside these roles that form around you and that kind of exclusion is tantamount to death. It feels like the world is attacking you.

I understand and disagree with this. Change has nuances and options, always. You can't change the way you think, not on the fundamental level, not in a way that will keep an introvert from being paralyzed by the consequences and locking them into the role they fill. But there is still the possibility for change. It just has to be subtle and there have to exist the kinds of supports that will remind and reassure you that the consequences will be dealt with.

Saying this is easy, but to put it into action is hard. Instead of changing yourself, your role, this requires changing the circumstances that put you in that role. And it's just as big, just as painful. It's constant, because change is constant but it is possible. You have to act where you do feel like you have control.  You have to ask for help.

I wonder if I could make those kinds of changes. Somehow I don't think so. But I also think that to an extent, I am those kinds of changes, they are constant, they themselves are changing and I am integrated. I adjust, I react, I don't need to make those kinds of changes because I don't feel that conflict. I'm not threatened by the consequences because by the time I notice them, I'm already taking action for them.

This is me existing, taking them in stride. This is me reaching out and offering my help. This is what postmodernism needs. From one self to another, Acelessthan3 at your service.

On the Performance

The more I'm here, the more I realize we're all children. We're – and it’s a scary thing to face: the knowledge that before us stand mountains. I’m lost and scared and lonely and there’s a whole wild world watching me, waiting for me to fall or fly.

I talked with Jack the other day and he expressed some discomfort at this idea that our lives are a performance. What does it mean when every action is a performance of the Self? When are we real? When are we not acting?

It’s an uncomfortable question to deal with because it raises this question of who are we? Or rather, who am I? When am I really me? It’s almost impossible to separate life from the performance because thinking about it creates a kind of meta-performance.
When we start focusing on not performing, we start to perform for ourselves, creating intention and meaning by not performing.

Don’t think about elephants.

Elephant.

Image of an elephant

Jack talked about feeling this constant undercurrent of paranoia, stemming at least in part from not knowing who we perform for. I thought I could identify with him at the time, but now I’m not so sure. It just doesn’t click with me that feeling like we’re performing is a bad thing. And I think it goes back to this idea I have of serving. "The better you can explain who you serve, the more of a purpose you will have in life." Yes, but so long as you’re doing “good” or for that matter doing something, anything at all, does it really matter?

In this performance we call life, it’s all improv anyways. We aren’t reading from some secret script (or at least I’m not. Sometimes it feels like all the rest of you are just to fuck with me). I guess what I’ve come to peace with in this is that it’s always a performance. It’s always been a performance. I’ve always been serving someone or something, be it my friends, my parents, my teachers, whatever undefined higher powers I believe in, or myself. When it comes down to it, it doesn’t matter and I can accept that I don’t necessarily know.

I've been called an old soul, and I'm not always sure what that entails. I know that in part at least it's related to the way I view the world. I'm constantly observing, watching. It's one reason why I considered being a journalist or a writer. I notice the details, but also am constantly trying to fit them into the bigger picture, always have.

And, growing up, I know for a fact that it separated me at times because I knew things. I could see what was going on because I was paying attention. I was always paying attention and asking questions.

People thought I was smart, and yeah, I guess that's a part of it, but it was usually more that I'd been paying attention and caught details other people missed and filled in blanks.

I blush and stammer or casually brush off when people call me smart because I secretly hate it. That's not a role I want to fill. Again it comes back to halfdome's half-joking question last quarter as to whether or not I was a TA for Tony.

I provide help, I ask questions, I push people to think as much as I know how because that's what I do. I see a need and if I can, I fill it. I don't want to be special. I don't want to be set apart.

To put it another way, I don't want to be king, but I wouldn't mind being the power behind the throne so to speak.

The performance is about having that control for me. It means I can create who and what I want to be and not rely on everyone else to do that for me. Yes, I'm putting on a farce and becoming someone else for everyone else. But I'm the one who gets to choose how much and for how long. It's my performance.

It's always been my performance.

What do you want?

What do I want?

This question has haunted me for a while now and I think it's about time I finally addressed it, because it makes me uncomfortable. But why does it make me uncomfortable enough to not want to express it?

There's something powerful about verbalizing an intention and in the same way, there's something powerful about expressing a want or need, and I don't know if I can commit myself to that. There's something comforting in floating aimlessly and being able to do what I want as whims change, precisely because I have not locked myself into one path. And I realize there's something irresponsible about this, something innately adolescent, but I already have my share of responsibilities.

I don't like being asked what I want. I'll tell you I don't know, but more often than not that's a lie, or at best only a partial truth. It's not about me. The world does not fucking revolve around me and I have a hard time dissociating what I want with that that kind of unwanted attention. As much as an extrovert as I may be, there are limits. When the attention we garner is unwanted, when it comes independently of the performance, it takes away our power, it takes away the autonomy of the decision, the part that makes it personal and gives it meaning to us as individuals.

I fill the void. I've always filled the void. It goes back to this idea of service I talked about when I last revisited Acelessthan3. I see and understand myself as a provider. It's not something I consciously choose, but it's not something I fight. I accept it as something inherent to who I am and foster it as something I want to encourage.

This is the role I want to fill, but the more I think about it, the more I question if I want to fill it because it is my desire to do so or if I do so because I feel obligated and this is not the kind of distinction I think I'm capable of making any more because I've played this part for so long.

The way I see it, I'm faced with this paradox of thought. How can what I want ever compare to what everyone else wants, to what the world wants? For me to express want is to contradict the provider within me. To want is to take, is to be selfish, it is to not attempt to make myself responsible for the world around me.

And I guess it takes me back to that advice the_author gave me the other week: at least once in a while do something for yourself. Which means I need to learn to separate what it means to do something for others and to do something for myself because selfishness in our society is not frowned upon. It is the basis for all entrepreneurial endeavors and indeed, of capitalism. We want the "American Dream" and so we work towards it.

I want to lead without the responsibility of leadership, but I recognize there is something dangerous about this. A leader who is not responsible has the potential to do great and terrible things. I don't trust myself not to fall victim to that trap, so I compensate. I seek out responsibility, consciously and unconsciously.

And I wonder, as I often do, does this make me a good person?

I have my faults. I feel like I know my weaknesses. I'm more than a little vain and self-centered. I don't push myself as hard as I could. And I have absolutely no problem saying this loud and often because these are facets of who I am and I accept them for what they are, faults, but I work to move past them. I'm not always successful and sometimes people catch me being lazy and call me on my shit, but that's why this is a work in progress.

And I'm sure any number of you reading this would be quick to jump to my defense, telling me I'm humble and blah blah blah, and that's exactly why this has become such an ontological question for me. Is being a good person based on what we project? What other people think? What we are hidden under the masks we make to fool ourselves?

To put it all another way: What lies underneath the performance?

I'm having a hard time with this one people, because it strikes to the core, because as I've come to believe more and more in the philosophy that everything has the potential to be a performance, answering the question of what I want seems impossible. In answering that question, am I just performing? And I can't answer that. Don't you see? It would be part of the performance.

I'm performing. I'm performing. I'm performing. I'm performing. I'm performing.

It wouldn't be the truth.

I can't lie. I can't answer. It wouldn't be the truth. It's NOT THE FUCKING TRUTH.

What do I want? I'll tell you what I fucking want. I want to live. I want to die. I want to have a happy life in between. I want love. I want to provide. I want to be provided for, to see some kind of return on this constant outpour of energy because it's draining being your ray of little fucking sunshine in middle of the night. I want to learn. I want to grow. I want to think. I want physicality. I want to not be constantly worried about all the problems but my own. I want to feel okay being a little selfish from time to time.

I want to help. I want to make a difference. I want to not do this alone. I want to escape these boxes, this or that binary.

I want all of this without feeling like it's some kind of performance I'm putting on for myself, for society, for my friends.

Are you happy? Did that answer your question? Probably not, but that's fine. You can deal.