Let's come at this from a different angle to see if we can complete the picture. Internal states, moods, and external situations change more rapidly than self-identity tends to. Ego includes self-identity (what we think and experience ourselves to be) as well as habitual patterns of feeling and behavior. In the same way that what we think of ourselves is not all of who we are, patterns of feeling and behavior are also not all of who we are. We can see genetic temperament, rather than something like Freud's "id" as basic to ego.
Once a relatively consistent ego is established in adulthood (as it is with almost all adults), intentional shifts in state, fluidity between states, and openness--especially awareness of openness--become more important to personal development. Intentionally incorporating openness and fluidity into self-identity incorporates openness and fluidity into ego without changing history or the uniqueness of one's individuality. In other words, one begins to wipe the slate of personality clean rather than wiping it blank.
I guess that if I'm going to title this series "Ego and Tranquility", I should probably include something on tranquility. It sort of fits with the blankness. In moderating states, we might start off by simply noticing what sort of state we're in. Once we notice, we might also notice a response to being in that state--either like or dislike. Both like and dislike tend to drive the "logic" of that state. By not wanting to fear snakes, I keep thinking about snakes, and this reminds me that I fear snakes. David Barlow has done great work with anxiety and fear. You can essentially wear out someone's snake phobia by keeping them around snakes for long enough, showing them that snakes are not necessarily dangerous, and eventually getting them to hold snakes.
If you aren't willing to deal with the intense reactions that his process demands, or if dealing with something less tangible (than snakes) like shame, it becomes important to apply a sort of clutch (like in a vehicle with a manual transmission). We do this by regaining some degree of control over our sympathetic nervous response. This ends up being the same as when moms soothe upset children, except we aren't relying on snakes to wear us out or moms to calm us down. We're relying on ego as a transitional object (our vehicle) and using awareness and intention as the clutch. The interesting thing is that ego might seem to drive us wherever any given internal state is directing us if we are unaware and also unable to hit the clutch. Hitting the clutch may leave us pointed in the same direction, moving with some left-over momentum, but we are no longer continuing to speed towards the goal of some state (like anger) rather than driving the bus ourselves.
This can be like waking from a dream or realizing--all of a sudden--that you're behind the wheel but that you've been on autopilot. That moment between when you are impulsively following the logic of whatever state--like when anger is pushing you towards revenge, for example--and when you realize that you are actually driving can have a number of different feelings. It can feel somewhat disappointing and apathetic, it can feel liberated or light (including an "unbearable lightness of being"), and it can also feel tranquil, peaceful, serene. It is the experiential definition (rather than semantic definition) of unawareness to not notice the state you had been in and the feeling of transitioning. Realizing this lack of awareness can be like suddenly realizing that the ground is not solid beneath your feet. Most people prefer denial and unawareness to this realization and the uneasisness and fear it can bring.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Ego and Tranquility II
The question we're carrying over is: what functions for adults as that supportive field? Is it relationships, community? No. Intention? No. Wisdom, insight? No and no. Tranquility? Also no. Or maybe the answers should all be, "Not only that."
All those things feed in. As usual, I want to turn that question on its side to see what it looks like that way. If we've got a good model of how personal growth can occur (in children), then--given all the differences adults face--HOW does adult growth occur?
Psychodynamics often describes the "primary caregiver" as a transitional object. The kid can explore a little ways, return to Mom and feel reassured that everything is alright, and then explore again. Likewise, then, the space around Mom begins to feel safe. Actual places like one's bedroom, playroom, backyard, or near Mom can then be used as "transitional spaces" where exploration, play, growth, and learning occur. Everywhere else is potentially dangerous and scary. It's not much of a stretch to see that dangerous schools are not really the best "transitional spaces" in psychodynamic terms. And we also grow into professional and romantic relationships where trust is recognized or at least felt to be really important for any meaningful or sustained relationship. So, as we move out of mom's arms and out of the nursery, we can see that the psychological "space" is both real physical space (outside of the nursery) and also sociocultural space (trustworthy relationships).
In essence then, we need the potential, the motivation, the tools, and the space to work in for growth. We need at least one more thing: continuity. Without continuity or coherence, each moment may be intense enough, but there is no way to mark growth as opposed to random change. And, in speaking of personal growth and maintaining the motivation for personal growth as adults, we are speaking in terms of an internal or personal SENSE of continuity. It is this sense that allows us to say that we feel that there has or has not been growth, since personal growth is not as objectively measurable as, say, height.
Here is where ego finds its true value. Ego, like growth, may be made up of many parts without necessarily being any of those parts or influences. As we move beyond the "primary relationship" with Mom, our developing egos become our own transitional objects--that which, in reference to, we either feel growth or the absence of growth. Now, as I mentioned, ego isn't necessarily just one singular thing. Ego is influenced by its own transitional object-space: society. With these three reference points--individual awareness, ego, society--we have what it takes to measure growth.
How does that work out? Well, we create a relatively consistent sense of ego and society even though personal awareness is constantly shifting. The phenomena we pay attention to, shifts in internal brain states, and changes in emotional moods tend to occur more quickly than changes in what we think of ego and society. At some point in our lives, we intentionally attempt to shift our internal state--from anxiety, fear, anger, despite, shame, etc. If we find or are given the tools and stick to the training we can improve at shifting our internal states towards those states we would choose. That's the intention part.
As we repeatedly use our intention to build the attentional skills that allow us to shift our internal states, those intentional choices and intentional states become part of our self-identity (which is part of ego). Those chosen and increasingly familiar states become more consistent traits, more consistent parts of who we are. It's just that, at this point, the "who" in who we are is bigger than a concrete self of who we were, more real and complex than an ideal who that we might have wanted to become. The growth itself changes us. As we move closer to the ideal, the ideal must also change and come closer to the complexity of reality and history and personality, etc. At some point, it becomes very clear that we are trading, piece by piece, a sort of thin and sterilized (yet bright) ideal self for a very real and complex and sometimes still problematic but inspired self. Idealization becomes inspiration as we become intimate and familiar with our own active potential.
All those things feed in. As usual, I want to turn that question on its side to see what it looks like that way. If we've got a good model of how personal growth can occur (in children), then--given all the differences adults face--HOW does adult growth occur?
Psychodynamics often describes the "primary caregiver" as a transitional object. The kid can explore a little ways, return to Mom and feel reassured that everything is alright, and then explore again. Likewise, then, the space around Mom begins to feel safe. Actual places like one's bedroom, playroom, backyard, or near Mom can then be used as "transitional spaces" where exploration, play, growth, and learning occur. Everywhere else is potentially dangerous and scary. It's not much of a stretch to see that dangerous schools are not really the best "transitional spaces" in psychodynamic terms. And we also grow into professional and romantic relationships where trust is recognized or at least felt to be really important for any meaningful or sustained relationship. So, as we move out of mom's arms and out of the nursery, we can see that the psychological "space" is both real physical space (outside of the nursery) and also sociocultural space (trustworthy relationships).
In essence then, we need the potential, the motivation, the tools, and the space to work in for growth. We need at least one more thing: continuity. Without continuity or coherence, each moment may be intense enough, but there is no way to mark growth as opposed to random change. And, in speaking of personal growth and maintaining the motivation for personal growth as adults, we are speaking in terms of an internal or personal SENSE of continuity. It is this sense that allows us to say that we feel that there has or has not been growth, since personal growth is not as objectively measurable as, say, height.
Here is where ego finds its true value. Ego, like growth, may be made up of many parts without necessarily being any of those parts or influences. As we move beyond the "primary relationship" with Mom, our developing egos become our own transitional objects--that which, in reference to, we either feel growth or the absence of growth. Now, as I mentioned, ego isn't necessarily just one singular thing. Ego is influenced by its own transitional object-space: society. With these three reference points--individual awareness, ego, society--we have what it takes to measure growth.
How does that work out? Well, we create a relatively consistent sense of ego and society even though personal awareness is constantly shifting. The phenomena we pay attention to, shifts in internal brain states, and changes in emotional moods tend to occur more quickly than changes in what we think of ego and society. At some point in our lives, we intentionally attempt to shift our internal state--from anxiety, fear, anger, despite, shame, etc. If we find or are given the tools and stick to the training we can improve at shifting our internal states towards those states we would choose. That's the intention part.
As we repeatedly use our intention to build the attentional skills that allow us to shift our internal states, those intentional choices and intentional states become part of our self-identity (which is part of ego). Those chosen and increasingly familiar states become more consistent traits, more consistent parts of who we are. It's just that, at this point, the "who" in who we are is bigger than a concrete self of who we were, more real and complex than an ideal who that we might have wanted to become. The growth itself changes us. As we move closer to the ideal, the ideal must also change and come closer to the complexity of reality and history and personality, etc. At some point, it becomes very clear that we are trading, piece by piece, a sort of thin and sterilized (yet bright) ideal self for a very real and complex and sometimes still problematic but inspired self. Idealization becomes inspiration as we become intimate and familiar with our own active potential.
Ego and Tranquility
In the Mahamudra tradition, they sometimes say that anything without tranquility as its base or foundation does not last. It seems to me that, when we begin considering how intention fits with tranquility, we come to an unusual understanding of ego. It helps, probably, to include some understanding of how our self-identities develop.
Think about baby-talk from babies' perspective. It's not that far from when adults hear a foreign language. Under the right circumstances, you can comprehend that the apparent babble conveys intentional, and even understood meanings. Babies will mimic the babble they hear, and we approximate the sounds we want them to make. We help shape their noises into closer approximations of the language(s) we speak around and to them. While adult learning at this early stage of language acquisition may be more formalized, we still start off with some degree of exposure to the new language, babble on our own, and are prompted to improve our babbling.
In order to stick with the process long enough for our babble to become semi-intelligible and for us to understand at least basic words and phrases, we need to stick with the process long enough. For babies, they need someone beyond themselves to "hold" or maintain that intention and the process. Now, if our societies were full of enlightened individuals sharing their personal growth, personal development could go pretty much the same way. And that is happening to some extent. But most of us had mothers and teachers who put a great deal of time into language acquisition support when we were most motivated to learn language. We tend not to get the same one-on-one time with multiple personal growth gurus.
Throw in the challenge that by the time we begin considering personal growth seriously, we've also developed to the point where we have multiple, conflicting intentions to deal with. The average adult has to juggle the importance of paying the bills, maintatining relationships, maybe even teaching their own child to speak, etc. These competing intentions make it very difficult to focus wholeheartedly, to commit to any process 100%, and yet that is often how people learn best. Plus, that guru isn't going to feed and clothe you while spending up to 18-20 hours each day making sure you are happy, secure, and learning. Moms may not bring what gurus can bring, but gurus don't match up to moms in the mom-ing category either.
What all that means is that something our brains and environment did for us when we were learning language as children needs to be done by ourselves when learning personal growth as adults. When we are born, our brains are exploration-oriented--ready to learn. Mom, or whoever, works with that potential and a lot of emotional input to help us learn. Our brains respond to all this stimulation by growing lots of brain cells, training many of those brain cells to fire together in cohesive patterns that repeat when we see meaning repeated, and letting many other cells (the ones we hadn't needed to speak our specific language) die. They die because, like a screaming baby bird or an aggressive puppy, fortune in this type of instance favors the bold. The cells that are used get the metabolic energy while others starve.
The same basic process goes for adult attention. If you find it more valuable to sell more cars than to increase your sense of faith and virtue, your attention will predominantly go to what you deem more important (selling cars) while personal growth starves for attention. But this is simple attention economy stuff. What allows a baby to "believe" that there may be some meaning in the babble? Whatever that potential is, it is probably some part genetic predisposition, some part emotional connection with the caregiver, some part neurological surplus, etc. It is not just intention. There is a sort of "field" or environement of things that come together to allow for growth into and through that field.
As adults, we need to find something to function as that supportive background or field. Our brains are not growing at the same rate, mom probably isn't going to spend 18 hours a day with us, and--instead of our whole society pushing us to learn language--we have all of these other demands on our time and attention.
Think about baby-talk from babies' perspective. It's not that far from when adults hear a foreign language. Under the right circumstances, you can comprehend that the apparent babble conveys intentional, and even understood meanings. Babies will mimic the babble they hear, and we approximate the sounds we want them to make. We help shape their noises into closer approximations of the language(s) we speak around and to them. While adult learning at this early stage of language acquisition may be more formalized, we still start off with some degree of exposure to the new language, babble on our own, and are prompted to improve our babbling.
In order to stick with the process long enough for our babble to become semi-intelligible and for us to understand at least basic words and phrases, we need to stick with the process long enough. For babies, they need someone beyond themselves to "hold" or maintain that intention and the process. Now, if our societies were full of enlightened individuals sharing their personal growth, personal development could go pretty much the same way. And that is happening to some extent. But most of us had mothers and teachers who put a great deal of time into language acquisition support when we were most motivated to learn language. We tend not to get the same one-on-one time with multiple personal growth gurus.
Throw in the challenge that by the time we begin considering personal growth seriously, we've also developed to the point where we have multiple, conflicting intentions to deal with. The average adult has to juggle the importance of paying the bills, maintatining relationships, maybe even teaching their own child to speak, etc. These competing intentions make it very difficult to focus wholeheartedly, to commit to any process 100%, and yet that is often how people learn best. Plus, that guru isn't going to feed and clothe you while spending up to 18-20 hours each day making sure you are happy, secure, and learning. Moms may not bring what gurus can bring, but gurus don't match up to moms in the mom-ing category either.
What all that means is that something our brains and environment did for us when we were learning language as children needs to be done by ourselves when learning personal growth as adults. When we are born, our brains are exploration-oriented--ready to learn. Mom, or whoever, works with that potential and a lot of emotional input to help us learn. Our brains respond to all this stimulation by growing lots of brain cells, training many of those brain cells to fire together in cohesive patterns that repeat when we see meaning repeated, and letting many other cells (the ones we hadn't needed to speak our specific language) die. They die because, like a screaming baby bird or an aggressive puppy, fortune in this type of instance favors the bold. The cells that are used get the metabolic energy while others starve.
The same basic process goes for adult attention. If you find it more valuable to sell more cars than to increase your sense of faith and virtue, your attention will predominantly go to what you deem more important (selling cars) while personal growth starves for attention. But this is simple attention economy stuff. What allows a baby to "believe" that there may be some meaning in the babble? Whatever that potential is, it is probably some part genetic predisposition, some part emotional connection with the caregiver, some part neurological surplus, etc. It is not just intention. There is a sort of "field" or environement of things that come together to allow for growth into and through that field.
As adults, we need to find something to function as that supportive background or field. Our brains are not growing at the same rate, mom probably isn't going to spend 18 hours a day with us, and--instead of our whole society pushing us to learn language--we have all of these other demands on our time and attention.
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