The myths of individualism and you : I binaries
Understanding why seeing ourselves as others is important first brings the question: Who am I? It’s easy to get caught up in either-ors. We may readily recognize many levels to that. There are factors I might describe as individual: I’m a certain, ever-growing age, approximately median height, cis male, with certain personality features, etc. There are other levels, too: I live in New York City, of Jewish culture and heritage; I fit into certain political perspectives, certain social and activity communities, etc. We tend to view these as having specific definitions, and therefore ourselves having specific definitions. And by the same sense of things, that there are others, people and groups who fit outside those definitions.
It is harder to recognize that none of these boundaries really exist.
At each level, boundaries are really areas of continuity, just like the difference in sound between ‘buh” and “puh” or in light through a prism between red and orange.
I am not I. I am different from the I a year ago in describable ways. Like for instance, more gray hairs. I am extremely different from the I 20 years ago. Who not only lacked any gray hairs, but was also more moody and judgmental, more energetic, etc.
The nature – nurture myth
These changes are obvious, of course. But we tend to approach these changes from a perspective of nature separate from nurture: there is ME, and then I interact with all sorts of environmental factors, and these change me in various ways. Kind of like a clay being sculpted into a work of art (Well… let’s hold judgments on how ‘artistic.’).
This is nonsense. All of the factors, whether already present (biological) or immediate to the moment (environmental) create the “I” of that moment. All of which in turn provides a context for, but is not exactly, the I of the next moment. Notice: what is biological one moment is environmental the next; and, vice versa. More like quantum physics, where multiple states are there at once: Schrodinger’s cat is and is not alive. Who I am gets resolved in a particular way in each moment. And may resolve the same way the next moment. Or not.
When you recognize this multi-fluid-nature of I, you then see its implication between us. When you read this, the boundary between you and me get blurry. Just a little bit, just in some ways. But there it is. Not only that – by the time you’re reading this, you’ve already affected me. The conversation, this exchange, already started before you even knew it existed. You are part of me, and I a part of you. That’s not just metaphor – our brain cells shift, unanticipated thoughts form, blood flows a little differently.
I am not I
These thoughts I’m sharing right now: they aren’t really mine at all (though I promise I am not plagiarizing!). They’re a shared process that expands out through you, my family, friends, community, ancestors, a network out and out, and back and back.
This expansion goes out and out. Across time and space. It is the wisdom of Carl Sagan’s famous saying, “We are all star stuff.” Not only a beautiful concept, but quite literally true. At whatever level you think of yourself – DNA, cells, physical body, habits, thoughts and feelings, family, beliefs, community, nation, culture, humanity, life – every element of each level has been part of a flow, resolving in many different ways across time, even back to the big bang.
Let’s bring this back down to earth.
Vital truths: Seeing ourselves as others
Like any valid perspective, these ideas come with context. If I don’t show up for work, and my excuse to my supervisor is, “When you think about it, there is no me, really, and since we’re extensions of each other here, I could also say that in a way, it was you who didn’t show up for work.” Then the response is likely to be, “That makes this next step much easier, since I don’t have to be the one to do it: you have fired yourself.”
Individualism can define responsibility and cause and effect in an important way. And yet, so can collectivism. Just like “you” and “I,” individualism and collectivism are not opposites but differing ways to view and resolve the same thing.
When I speak with someone who has a different way of seeing the world, I don’t see a foe. I see me, resolved differently. Some of these differences are important, like recognizing different power and privilege based on gender, ethnicity, money, etc. Some are not: like recognizing that we all strive and we all suffer. In the similarities, we are already one. In the differences, these are not to be feared or shunned. By listening and connecting, they can become part of me. I become more.