Who am I? What am I doing here? Where am I going?

[Michael Larkin]

Who am I? What am I doing here? Where am I going?

Let's start with the basics. Can I answer any of these questions?

Er... no, actually. I can make up all sorts of stories: I'm a Blugbatter beast from planet alpha-prime of Proxima centauri; I'm here to observe you strange humans because I'm collating a history for inclusion in the Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy; and I'm going to go home in a couple of centuries when I've finally figured out what makes you little buggers tick.

That makes as much, or as little, sense, as to tell you I'm a human being sharing this planet with you; am 5'2" or 6'4"; male or female; a spot welder or a ballerina; have personal interests such as browsing porn sites or knitting tea cosies. These are just - I don't know - just as useless descriptors as, say, describing in words what a pangolin looks like, what it does as it goes about its everyday scaly ant-eating business.

See, a pangolin, if asked, and if it could answer, wouldn't describe itself as it sees itself in a mirror or as described by a neighbourhood pangolin ethologist. It would squeak out its pangolin-being: "look, watch me. I am what I do - this, and this, and this, because it's my nature. What I do is by divine decree, and I could do no other."

Because, you see, thick as a pangolin might seem, it has one edge over us: it lacks self-awareness. It has no pangolin ego that is separate from what it is that continually evaluates itself or other pangolins. Nor does it trouble itself endlessly with the thought it might pop its little clogs one day.

So if a pangolin is what it does, what is it I do? That is natural, that is? My self-awareness, my mind and my intellect, means that I can do things that aren't, strictly speaking, in my basic nature. I can, and many people do in fact, live in a fantasy world, no less fantastic because, through consensus, millions of others share it.

I'm not talking about basic animal functions here. I share those with the pangolin, but I have this other quality, my self-awareness, and that must be a natural human attribute. There must be a way of being natural within that awareness. The thing that is natural, the "I" that I am, is what I am referring to in the three titular questions.

Strip away all the descriptions of the ego - tall, short, fat, thin, tinker or tailor, rich or poor, and concentrate on the being that is me. The "doings" of the being that is me, as Goethe might have put it. What are my natural doings as a self-reflective being? I think these doings of mine will likely be the same as your doings.

So I issue you with a challenge: tell me about your doings without reference to irrelevancies like your appearance, gender, age, job, height or weight, geographical location or specific personal history. Can you do it?

Go on, have a go!

[Michael Larkin]

Hi Pedro,

Yes, you are right that they aren't irrelevancies to the condition of being human; as I think I mentioned to Rajan, both the animal self and the ego are necessary. I meant only that they are irrelevancies when considering the answer to the question I'm posing, if you like.

I'm not really suggesting that you view yourself as an abstract entity. It's more that I'm suggesting you view your innermost self as a real entity and ask yourself what that is.

[Rajan Arulganesan]

Sophie, thank you for your comforting words, I will definitely try to treat 'myself' gently.
Michael,
I see you what you're getting at. This 'self' is very elusive for me. My thought process is always hyperactive and I am not able to distinguish between these and find that real self. In this respect, I have a long way to go. The way I sometimes imagine myself is like a neurotic Woody Allen, although, I conceal this fairly well and to others I come across 'normal', I think.

[Michael Larkin]

Hi Rajan,

Your honesty is greatly appreciated, but I'm wondering if we’re confusing three things.

First, there are the natural doings of the animal self, which you (and I, and others here) doubtless share - things like lust and fear.

Second, there are the unnatural doings of the ego - things like feeling conditioned guilt about lust or fear. With regard to both, let's face it, our bodies react in the way they were designed to, so there's no blame in that.

But thirdly, there are the natural doings of the true self, which as I see it would include things like having an aversion to acting out our lusts or fears in any way that would be harmful to ourselves or others. I think we know at heart that these are natural because we feel very uncomfortable with ourselves if we act contrary to them. Yes, we may mix conditioned guilt into that discomfort, but I believe we all have a natural conscience that knows instinctively when certain things are wrong.

For example, no one had to tell me as even a very young child that it was wrong to hurt others. I remember once when play-fighting with another boy, I hit him in the solar plexus and thought he was going to die. I felt absolutely horrified, full of genuine remorse. I didn’t need, although I got anyway, the Christian religious conditioning that told me I shouldn’t hurt others and threatened me with metaphysical punishment if I did.

I think we lose ourselves in the interactions between the three, which makes it difficult to identify what we really are. My challenge is to put aside the animal and egoic aspects and try to concentrate on the natural doings of the true self. To do that, it may be necessary first to clearly identify what isn’t that self. We can’t function properly without the other two; they have their place in the scheme of things, but it’s a question of which should be in the driving seat. Maybe too often, it’s a tripartite chimera, and hence our incessant feelings of conflict and dissatisfaction.

It’s interesting that when we do manage to put the other two aside, we are so unfamiliar with what remains that we can’t find the words to express what it is, what it does, what it wants. I find it as difficult as anyone else. I was kind of hoping that between us we might start to pin it down.

[Rajan Arulganesan]

So I issue you with a challenge: tell me about your doings without reference to irrelevancies like your appearance, gender, age, job, height or weight, geographical location or specific personal history. Can you do it?

I have been thinking about this since you've posted it and found it difficult to answer. The closest I can get to it is as follows:
In my natural state, I am lustful and this lust manifests itself in various ways if not assuaged. If the sexual cravings are satisfied, then I am a junkie for information and here, I correspond to your sate of curiosity.
The other thing that characterises me is my fear or cowardice; fear of the consequences of my actions, cowardice that disables me from being able to weather an emotional turmoil.
This, of course is only an approximation of what I am or what I maybe, but, this is the most honest I have ever been.

[Michael Larkin]

Hi Sophie,

Okay. Curiosity also comes in for me as one of my strongest doings, as one of the things that is a good candidate for being an attribute of my natural consciousness. I'm a walking question: everything puzzles me, and I take delight in investigation. Doing that is also something that makes me happy.

It was perhaps five or six years ago that I finally stopped being too concerned about the rat race, and made the switch in priorities to pursuing something that all along has been more important to me. Just that switch makes one happier, takes a huge weight off the shoulders.

I don't know whether this is just saying what you have said in a different way, but I guess another important doing is the pursuit of self-love. Most of my life, I haven't loved myself, have in fact despised myself. The guilt trip that is religion does tend to encourage that.

It comes as a startling discovery to find that one is actually loveable; maybe one can't hold that knowledge permanently yet, but it does pay an occasional visit. It's only when one begins to love oneself that one can begin to love others, and though that's a cliché I've been aware of for decades, it comes to life now and then. The one flows from the other naturally, and there’s no intellectualising involved.

It sounds less than humble to say that one has discovered another visitor, humility, doesn’t it? But I think I know what you mean. Humility also flows from self-love, paradoxical as that might seem. It’s all a question of what that self is. If it’s ego, then we call it pride. If it’s love of essence, then I think we can call it humility – a glad surrender to the realisation of one’s profound ignorance, which helps stoke the fires of curiosity. I love my own ignorance, and the way it allows me endless opportunities to continue my investigations.

Yes, it brings freedom. Freedom from guilt-inspired limitation of what one can consider.

[Jane]

Pangolins and platypus (i) are my favourite animals.