The Shifting Iterations of Self

For this writer, human life began on a cold mid-century January morning in Chicago, Illinois. The second offspring of European immigrants, Adrian of Amsterdam, and Frieda of Vienna. Born plump and healthy they named this baby Laurence. We’ll call him Larry they decided (likely a discerning choice over Curley or Mo).

I don’t remember much of those early days. As it goes with infants, cognition was purely sensate, with only primitive thinking, limited experience, and scant memories. Boundaries were unknown and unknowable at that stage and it must have been blissful in such ignorance of definitions, labels, rights, and responsibilities. Contrasts, distinctions, and comparisons would come later. Around the age of 18 months, they say.

With the passage of time, this growing body/mind would come to hear the name Larry and be told that he was a boy, i.e., a boy named Larry. From an amorphous sense of being this first given identity took hold creating a superficial overlay on original nature. This Larry character would grow in physical and mental stature and in conditioning, coming to learn more about the world and his place in it.

There would be affirming words for some behaviors and discouraging consequences for unwanted actions. Labels were ubiquitous and readily applied. Whatever remained of the essential original self was overwritten by the uniquely human need for uniqueness which fomented a continuous emphasis on distinctions, individuality, and comparison. The child needing to survive and belong in the family is at a loss to deflect parental assessments and vulnerability leads to accepting these labels as true. And fitting in, the yearning for approval and acceptance extends beyond the family system into every relationship and community setting. When he excels, he is told he’s smart or gifted. When he shows his feelings, he may be labeled sensitive or even weak.

Roles evolve in stages, from toddler to student, to athlete, or musician. Personality traits and tendencies get added to one’s vitae. All of this is quite normal and expected in a person’s maturation, but the underbelly of this normative process is that one’s identity is given over to these attributes. Consequently, Larry (your name) doesn’t simply have these attributes of character they become his very identity. Each role adds more than just color to the character, it becomes conflated with identity. Soon it's Larry the man, the college graduate, the insurance professional, the bachelor, the married man/husband, the father, the minister, the grandfather, the retired guy, the writer, the woodworker, and on it goes.

The loss of original innocence with its accompanying sense of wholeness, peace, and well-being goes with a flawed interpretation of attributes that veil the true self. Roles are ways that we show up in the world they do not define us, not really. Unless we allow the roles to coopt our true identity. The same goes for our gender, our body conditions, our mental states and capacities as well. All of these are colorings, an imposed veneer upon being.

In truth, no matter how great or tumultuous have been the changes in our human journey, our essential self has remained unchanged. Who and what we truly are is invulnerable to the vicissitudes of life. The I am that I am when I was in the womb is the same I am that I am today. Same for you. Jesus reminded us of this eternality of being when he said, “Before Abraham is, I am.” He clearly wasn’t referring to his body or the story of Jesus the man. He knew the truth and it set him free. And so it can for us as well.

Namaste,

Rev. Larry