This is Part 2 of a two-part post on the title. Go here for Part 1.
Who Am I?: Identity crisis is an old problem. Perhaps as old as the identification of individual personalities within mankind itself; though it is only in recent times, and with modernity, that it has almost become a crisis --in the sense of an epidemic. More so for the younger generation, the attention economy, and social media as the primary social interaction channel. (Modern) Profession as a role, acquired through skills and practice, is a different scenario from that of being born into a (older) profession. As the social structures mature, stabilize and become more risk-free, people get the option of starting from scratch and choosing a profession that does not have the support and benefits of the inheritance or direct descendance and lineage. Also in the eastern society, where one identifies one's (current, and hopefully last!) 'incarnation' as a function of the role that comes along with the circumstance (or accident) of birth, the identity crisis transforms from being a crisis to becoming an obligation - ideally, a humble service to the society. Furthermore, it can further be seen as an opportunity of performing the role at one's best capacity, and thus better the chances of fairing well at the final goal of attaining release from the whole cycle of samsara. The question such as Who Am I? here mostly has a very different context, and hence people end up figuring out for themselves even more varied answers (Aham Brahmasmi / Tat Tvam Asi / om manipadme hum / Shivohm).
A Thousand Gods, and then some: Broadly speaking, it can be argues that the above anecdote of the twin girls highlighting the nature aspect of personality and behavior of individuals, when coupled with the advantages that come with inherited professions, adds further merit to the gene-pool and pedigree patronage i.e. a certain group's 'natural' allegiance towards a trade, a profession, or a practice that has been running down through generations. There are always some exceptions to every rule, but barring those, such pedigree patronage also adds to the stability of the overall social structure where the supply of the given skilled labor for social consumption is assured via defined lineages. And by the way of reciprocity, all the roles and functions are almost equally respected, and controlled by religion through the respective deities, which are most often incarnations or avatars of a single main deity (mostly Vishnu), and thus has equality in status. Such an arrangement has obvious rigidities, but it also creates strong contrasting stereotypes, and results into social diversity where respect towards various social identities is hedged by common socio-religious code binding the whole samsara into something like a single extended family, while the whole system remains in accord and harmony with nature. (Perhaps this is also a (over) simplified explanation for anyone baffled by thousands of small gods of India, or those numerous tiny Buddhas, all flavoring seasons, staples and strides.)
American Identity Crisis: With this as the backdrop, I especially came to appreciate when Joe Robinson in this beautifully flowing huffpost article— American Identity Crisis: Are You Your Job? (try here)—focused on the identity crisis as seen in America, and thus differentiated the issue from Eastern counterparts in terms of problem definitions as well as solutions. The lineage specific arguments echo in his article when, compared to the cultural societies of Asia and Europe, he addresses the issue as associated with the "rootless culture with no obvious class markers" in America. The dealings with identity and their psychological nuances are most likely to meet different, even specialized, remediations for different cultures. Approaches by older cultures with respect to identity can hardly be segregated from their underlying socio-religious aspects and undercurrents, and that is where their fundamental difference begins with the modern, western, socio-economic approaches. For example, in the East you identify yourself with the God power, striving for that experience of identification with godhood—not just to be like god, but to be god—over years of dedication and practice; something which is downright blaspheme for Western organized religions.
Robinson speaks about "persona" and how the real identity gets highjacked in the performance intensive work culture. The problem definition sounds way too familier. And so does the solution, which incidentally (and, thankfully!) does not involve a psychologist's couch, or a priest's sermon. While Robinson's wisdom is deep, and his identity related help seems effective and thoughtful, my simpler summary of his article would be: the issue of hollowness within, or more technically, an absence, or maturation, of the inner identity to fall back to when the outer performance identity is challenged.
And so, the question really is, how to fill up this hollowness, and with what?
The Sacred Place: The experts say the answer to that question is within everyone's gasp, and fortunately it isn't bound by age, gender, race, lineage, culture or religion. Let's sample the following excerpt from a dialogue that is taking place in California somewhere in 1986-87 and goes to discuss something called "The Sacred Place":
Giggle twins: When it comes to explaining personality, it is always true that nature and nurture work together. But it is also true that nature plays a bigger role than most people realize. Consider the identical twin sisters Daphne and Barbara. Raised outside London they both left school at the age of fourteen, went to work for local government, met their future husbands at the age of sixteen at local town hall dances, suffered miscarriage at the same time, and then each gave birth to two boys and a girl. They feared many of the same things (blood and heights) and exhibited unusual habits (each drank her coffee cold, each developed a habit of pushing up her nose with the palm of the hand, a gesture they both happened to call 'squidging'). None of these would surprise you as much until you learn that separate families had adopted Daphne and Barbara as infants; neither knew of each others existence until they were reunited at the age of 40. When they finally did meet, they were wearing almost identical clothing.Scott Adams, the creator of Dilbert, may be tempted to dismiss the above as one fine striking coincidence, and continue to argue that "You are what you learn" (try here. A compelling argument which he would then conclude in his characteristic tongue-in-cheek manner by suggesting to his readers not to take phycology advices from a cartoonist).
A Thousand Gods, and then some: Broadly speaking, it can be argues that the above anecdote of the twin girls highlighting the nature aspect of personality and behavior of individuals, when coupled with the advantages that come with inherited professions, adds further merit to the gene-pool and pedigree patronage i.e. a certain group's 'natural' allegiance towards a trade, a profession, or a practice that has been running down through generations. There are always some exceptions to every rule, but barring those, such pedigree patronage also adds to the stability of the overall social structure where the supply of the given skilled labor for social consumption is assured via defined lineages. And by the way of reciprocity, all the roles and functions are almost equally respected, and controlled by religion through the respective deities, which are most often incarnations or avatars of a single main deity (mostly Vishnu), and thus has equality in status. Such an arrangement has obvious rigidities, but it also creates strong contrasting stereotypes, and results into social diversity where respect towards various social identities is hedged by common socio-religious code binding the whole samsara into something like a single extended family, while the whole system remains in accord and harmony with nature. (Perhaps this is also a (over) simplified explanation for anyone baffled by thousands of small gods of India, or those numerous tiny Buddhas, all flavoring seasons, staples and strides.)
American Identity Crisis: With this as the backdrop, I especially came to appreciate when Joe Robinson in this beautifully flowing huffpost article— American Identity Crisis: Are You Your Job? (try here)—focused on the identity crisis as seen in America, and thus differentiated the issue from Eastern counterparts in terms of problem definitions as well as solutions. The lineage specific arguments echo in his article when, compared to the cultural societies of Asia and Europe, he addresses the issue as associated with the "rootless culture with no obvious class markers" in America. The dealings with identity and their psychological nuances are most likely to meet different, even specialized, remediations for different cultures. Approaches by older cultures with respect to identity can hardly be segregated from their underlying socio-religious aspects and undercurrents, and that is where their fundamental difference begins with the modern, western, socio-economic approaches. For example, in the East you identify yourself with the God power, striving for that experience of identification with godhood—not just to be like god, but to be god—over years of dedication and practice; something which is downright blaspheme for Western organized religions.
And so, the question really is, how to fill up this hollowness, and with what?
The Sacred Place: The experts say the answer to that question is within everyone's gasp, and fortunately it isn't bound by age, gender, race, lineage, culture or religion. Let's sample the following excerpt from a dialogue that is taking place in California somewhere in 1986-87 and goes to discuss something called "The Sacred Place":
Bill MOYERS: On my first visit to Kenya, I went alone to one of the ancient sites of a primitive camp on what used to be the shore of a lake, and stayed there until night fell, feeling a sense of the presence of all creation—sensing underneath that night sky, in that vast place, that I belonged to something ancient, something very much still alive.
CAMPBELL: I think it’s Cicero who says that when you go into a great tall grove, the presence of a deity becomes known to you. There are sacred groves everywhere. Going into the forest as a little boy, I can remember worshiping a tree, a great big old tree, thinking, “My, my, what you’ve known and been.” I think this sense of the presence of creation is a basic mood of man. But we live now in a city. It’s all stone and rock, manufactured by human hands. It’s a different kind of world to grow up in when you’re out in the forest with the little chipmunks and the great owls. All these things are around you as presences, representing forces and powers and magical possibilities of life that are not yours and yet are all part of life, and that opens it out to you. Then you find it echoing in yourself, because you are nature. When a Sioux Indian would take the calumet, the pipe, he would hold it up stem to the sky so that the sun could take the first puff. And then he’d address the four directions always. In that frame of mind, when you’re addressing yourself to the horizon, to the world that you’re in, then you’re in your place in the world. It’s a different way to live.
MOYERS: You write in The Mythic Image about the center of transformation, the idea of a sacred place where the temporal walls may dissolve to reveal a wonder. What does it mean to have a sacred place?
CAMPBELL: This is an absolute necessity for anybody today. You must have a room, or a certain hour or so a day, where you don’t know what was in the newspapers that morning, you don’t know who your friends are, you don’t know what you owe anybody, you don’t know what anybody owes to you. This is a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation. At first you may find that nothing happens there. But if you have a sacred place and use it, something eventually will happen.
MOYERS: This sacred place does for you what the plains did for the [ancestral hunter gatherers].
CAMPBELL: For them the whole world was a sacred place. But our life has become so economic and practical in its orientation that, as you get older, the claims of the moment upon you are so great, you hardly know where the hell you are, or what it is you intended. You are always doing something that is required of you. Where is your bliss station? You have to try to find it. Get a phonograph and put on the music that you really love, even if it’s corny music that nobody else respects. Or get the book you like to read. In your sacred place you get the ”thou” feeling of life that these people had for the whole world in which they lived...