Relinquishing Egotism

Psychologists and philosophers alike have devoted centuries' long research to the various stages of the human psyche - charting our conscious path through this life, on aggregate. Much of said research has been focused on adolescent development with far fewer attention given to the stages of adulthood. Psychologists like Freud and Jung prioritized the adult consciousness in their work, viewing it as a superposition of adolescent precondition and mature designation, albeit less concretized simply due to the mathematical consequentiality for which the influence of conscious choice complicates. Life is like a game of chess, there are only so many "openings", but after just the first 4 moves it contains almost infinite possibilities. There are patterns in the end game, when the pieces are reduced to the minimum, but it is almost impossible to study the middle game, which is the vast majority of duration. This analogy lays the groundwork for the rationalization of a deep connection. Using the nomenclature, deep, distinguishes the connection, through conversation or interaction, as substantive, reaching a point of depth which is not easily quantified or measured. This critical depth, obtained between two individuals, two minds, occurs when a pattern emerges out of that infinite possibility index that we previously analogized. In essence, when you make a deep connection to another individual, you've uncovered a common experience or converged on an idea from separate directions, and you're immediately and intimately aware of the cosmic significance born of the statistical improbability. That synchronization derives a kind of depth that cannot often be articulated. It is dopaminergic and feels revelatory or enlightening and this underscores the human desire to be understood - to combat the isolation of conscious experience with the prospect of commonality. It is the cognitive equivalent of two waves superposing during wave interference. 

Recently, a friend and I struck that elusive chord of depth when discussing the mutual longing we had for a relationship with the opposite sex. We harmonized about the difficulty of finding a partner who is compatible on all levels. We riffed about the mental bandwidth allocated on a daily basis to this line of thinking and the frustration with its capacious tendency. And we queried our convergent psyche, asking why this phase of our life is so instantiated with the poignant desire for a mate. We dug deeper. What exactly was it that we were feeling, aside from the obvious distinctions such as companionship and sexual interaction. We were cartographers of an unexplored limbo, drawing the subconscious obscurity into the conscious realm of possession, through our mental duality. The thoughts were ephemeral and transformative, directing the conversation towards a first principle, or some essential truth. He finally said to me, "I'm tired of thinking about myself so much."

That was it, the product of our effort had been actualized - an answer had appeared and it gave us something to latch onto. It was almost liberating to repeat the words back to him and feel as though it had been present all along. And it was deeply true; I was tired of thinking about myself so much. It was true for him too, not a statement posed as a hypothesis, but an accurate sentiment. We agreed, we were searching for responsibility, and not the type obtainable through toil, but the elusive version of responsibility fundamental to the human condition, that which is found in monogamous partnership, deep, mutual love, and eventual establishment of a family unit. In the Book of Genesis, God says to Adam that man is bound to toil the land for the rest of his days in order to eat and survive. He alludes to the purpose found in that effort but in the Book of Matthew we learn, "man shall not live by bread alone." God creates Eve by taking her from the rib of Adam - perhaps the most explicit metaphor to inform us of the deep need for unification with a life-long partner. We were yearning for someone else to think of - someone else to take into consideration, to prioritize, and to cherish. We were yearning for that which was not bread alone. Admittedly, we have deep friendships, loving families, enjoyable coworkers and colleagues. We have great lives and an abundance to be thankful for. But, there is a void, who knows how large or how deep, compartmentalized for a soul-mate. A rib, missing from the whole.

We returned to our psychoanalytic journey and to the discussion of the stages of adulthood. The precedent had been set for a convergent conception, so perhaps we could reach more fundamental truths if we continued. The logical next question to explore was, "why now?" Why was the intensity of our longing to fill this void at an apotheosis? We struggled with this question, proposing ideas that crumbled upon further examination. So we pivoted - we transitioned the question, "what does it mean to be ready, what are the implications of that readiness?" And it was this question that produced another fundamental understanding: ready meant ready to sacrifice. We were yearning to, and feeling prepared for, the sacrifice of certain elements of our current lives, in exchange for a new entrant, a deep relationship. And since the sentiment was at its apex, it must mean we were feeling the most ready we'd ever felt. "Sacrifice what? Why were we feeling the most ready? What was it about now as opposed to the past?" Finally, we've arrived at the crux of this story and the subject of this essay. We deduced a simple yet wonderful understanding: We were yearning to relinquish egotism in exchange for a deep relationship, and we were at a maximal level of readiness to do so, because we'd been successful at individuating - of creating an authentic self and distilling our personal lives down to the aspects that induced fulfillment. 

Egotism is defined as "the practice of talking or thinking about oneself excessively because of an undue sense of self-importance." There is a natural development out of egotism during adolescence and even later into maturity. Piaget's work led to the understanding of this transition. When speaking to a child, they'll often start a story without laying out any of the context or explaining who the characters in the story are, given that you likely don't know that information. Adults take this for granted since we usually assume the listener doesn't know the background and therefore we start from the beginning. Children don't do this and it's a derivation of this idea of adolescent egotism. They conceptualize the world as a narrative that revolves around them - the "undue sense of self-importance." As we mature and we're properly socialized, we naturally relinquish that egotism in favor of more awareness, more emotional intelligence, and more selflessness. Egotism is not the same as narcissim but I would argue that narcissim can be born of excessive egotism, and improper individuation as Jung astutely noticed.

We took a step back - we didn't think of ourselves as having an undue sense of self importance, or of being overly narcissistic, but we recognized that in a large part, we were the center of our own lives. We made time for our friends and our family, we devoted effort to work, and we made sacrifices, both financially and duratively, to try to help others. We had no regret about the effort we'd selfishly poured into ourselves in recent years - exercising, reading, traveling, thinking, experiencing. But, since we did not have significant others, our mental landscape had a focal point, and that focal point was ourselves. We found that this created a remnant of egotism; the portion which refers to "thinking about oneself excessively." We felt ready to relinquish that, in favor of something deeply valuable, something that prompted selflessness and responsibility, something that was larger than ourselves.   

In the Desiderata, by Max Ehrmann, there is a line that reads, "Take kindly the counsel of the years, carefully surrendering the things of youth." Toward the end of our conversation, this line entered into my awareness. It's as much of a command as it is a reminder. Then again, most good advice or wisdom granted from someone else is such. We often know what we need to do. We often know what we want. I believe, we even know who we are. And thus we now understood the intensity of that longing, both the derivative of it and the call-to-action that accompanied it. We felt a sense of deep relief, which is often the case when you reach a fundamental understanding about the way in which your thoughts and feelings connect to your intrinsic spirit and your place in reality. We charted the course. We planned the next steps. Feet forward, eyes up.