the changing self

but isn't it so lovely in the way it fades?

Nasturtiums by Odilon Redon

Recently I’ve been reflecting on how fluid our identities are, how much capacity we have for change.

From Pseudonymous Identity: “A part of yourself is completely unexplored till you meet a particular person or go to a particular place.” And Murakami: “Have you ever had that feeling—that you’d like to go to a whole different place and become a whole different self?” I left Asia after high school because I knew there was a different self waiting for me across the border. It’s nostalgic every time I go back. I see an old ghost of myself in every corner, every neighborhood mall. I miss her, but I don’t think I could ever be like her again. Growing up I was very risk averse, terrified of change. In my journal I once wrote I am scared that as new doors open all the old doors swing shut.

But of course they do. Identity is never static. And looking for one true pristine identity is a certain type of death. Selves always superimpose on other selves.

When I read these pieces Ava wrote about identity here and here, so many things clicked into place for me:

All these things point to the fact that I continually construct an identity for myself. A asked me what the point of life was, and I said “self-expression.” … Regardless of whether or not you believe in the self you certainly have a self. And you have to take care of it.

These days when I think of my various selves I carry no hope of completion, no hope of perfection, just a commitment to looking at the best and worst instantiations without turning away.

Part of taking care of my ‘self’ is being kind to the girl I was, the woman I am. Part of it is pure intuition, pure trust. Knowing I can’t hold on to anything or anyone. Knowing I’ll give up some really good stuff on the road to the exquisite, divine, great stuff. Knowing I can’t control everything.

The problem with control is that it feels so safe, so satisfying. It’s a protective coping mechanism. I know it well. I used to be extremely perfectionistic, so rigid, so tense. Needed to prove myself constantly to the world. Wanted to bend it to my will. Never asked for help. A telling metaphor is when I first learned rock climbing: upon reaching the top I refused to fall backwards. Instead, I climbed slowly and painstakingly down. Rock by rock. Clearly, desire for control. (ok, I’m done psychoanalyzing myself now). But really. I could never slacken my grip on things I deemed important: My image. Achievements. Body. Relationship. 3 rotating side projects.

I became obsessed with these measures of my worth. But the tighter I held on, the more I felt resistance. The more I tried to force things into specific shape, the more I realized how joyless seeking perfect command is.

This tweet runs through my mind often: Softening is a viable way to keep from breaking, too. Rigid things snap all the time. Maybe even more readily. Rigidity only serves to make the impact of inevitable change much sharper, much more painful. It is good to hold the self softly, knowing it continues to evolve. Perhaps something beautiful emerges in the wake of change.

Relational learning is huge for me too. Learning about the self through relationship to other. I’ve always loved people. Enjoyed observing. Listening. My goal has always been to find people who have an inherent sense of abundance and self efficacy. And different people help you access different selves. I learned about generosity, confidence from A who makes everyone feel at ease around him. Being around J, I learned openness, creativity, expressing deep empathy. R basically created my music taste. The Strokes/Two Door Cinema Club/The Killers/Sinatra. M was the first person who told me what I wrote mattered. The best people see a fragment of your vividness and nurture its expansion.

I don’t ever tell you, but I hear your voice often — or maybe it’s my own voice, fused with the knowledge of what you’d say. Soften. Don’t be so brittle. Surrender your need for control. Keep looking and looking for what you love in every person you meet.

Tenderness and connection appear much more readily to me now. Last week I was taking an Uber and Linger by the Cranberries came on. The driver and I didn’t say a single word to one another but instead hummed the song, watched the popsicle-orange sink and swirl slowly through the windows on the drive home. I went home and thought, wow. People really are interconnected. Art. Music. Language. All of it tethers us together across space and age and time. Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, you once told me. After noticing something for the first time you start to see it everywhere.

All I can say is that I believe in the exploration of the self through places, people, things. Everything passes through you. Nothing lasts. But isn’t it so lovely in the way it fades? Everything changes you. Everything is a soliloquy, a small fire, a possibility, a prayer.

-N.

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Quote of the Week

“If you can see a thing whole,” he said, “it seems that it’s always beautiful. Planets, lives … But close up, a world’s all dirt and rocks. And day to day, life’s a hard job, you get tired, you lose the pattern. You need distance, interval. The way to see how beautiful earth is, is to see it from the moon.”

—Ursula K. Le Guin (also Le Guin’s work is just fantastic, I am listening to The Dispossessed)

What I’m Reading

I read a lot this week in the Seattle suburbs. Time off work is so sublime. All fiction, classic Nicole — I read Easy Beauty, LAPVONA, Slow Days Fast Company, The End of Loneliness, Sedating Elaine. This week I am starting Paradise Rot, I Who Have Never Known Men & Coup d'État: A Practical Handbook (uh… like a military book about coups)

Excerpts:

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn (The End of Loneliness)

People think you should be in love with other people or your work or justice. I’ve been in love with people and ideas in several cities and learned that the lovers I’ve loved and the ideas I’ve embraced depended on where I was, how cold it was, and what I had to do to be able to stand (Slow Days Fast Company)

I fell in love with philosophers who showed me how to erect grand theories of divine loneliness. I was Plotinus’ disciple, determined to find my perfect self in the Solitary Existence, the Apart, the Unmingled. Beauty helped lift me out of the filth, beauty broke me free of reality and helped me be alone (Easy Beauty)

Song of the Week

Chill summer vibes

Pictures of the week

seattle lakeside <3

I also visited my friend’s new place and the decor was already incredible. Can’t wait to see how it changes.

Nix @startingfromnix

the vibes are indeed very real