These are the stories I tell myself...
I've been thinking about a lot lately, as usual. Dualism, pluralism. Intellect. Spirit. Hedonism. Abstinence. The roles we play. Purpose. Meaning. Self-definition. Evolution. Consistency and contradiction. And in that last phrase, there is something unifying to what I've been thinking about. For as much as my ideas and perceptions about the world have evolved, there are both things that have remained consistent (such as my belief in the power of compassion), and things that have changed (such as my belief in the tooth fairy). Ideas that do not make logical sense in the context of my overall beliefs take time to revise before I can adopt a particular stance, an informed opinion. But the chain of logic I use to string together my reasons for the ideas I've accepted is A) different from other people's equally valid way of explaining things for themselves, and B) subject to change. It has me thinking about how we describe who we are when there are things about us that continuously evolve. It has me thinking about how we get caught up in binary thinking, those either-or categories that make overlap confusing or frustrating. It has to be one or the other, it can't be both, and it certainly can't be more than both. But once I began to explore the concept of pluralism (thank you, English Master's), the more I felt relieved that there was, in fact, an alternative to the black and white mindset that seemed to pervade thinking in our culture and in many others.
As I'm writing this, I'm thinking of sexuality, and how it relates to these ideas as well. And I have to detour a bit to share a short story from yesterday.
I reposted an article about the actress Gillian Anderson coming out as bisexual. I made some joke about my joy in learning this news, and one of my friends from high school commented below "So you WOULD date a guy :P" to which I responded "Hahaha, yes...Why, you know any? Send em my way. Must love X-Files :P" and to which he responded again, "Not anymore. They're either married or jaded :P" and I said, "Yep. Seems to be the consensus." I'll save my diatribe about the difficulties of dating for another time. But I was struck by his jest about my sexual preference.
My initial response, what I really wanted to type was "Wait, do people think that I'm a lesbian? Why do they think that? Is what I post indicative of a person liking women only?" and a few other questions that would never get an answer, because I decided not to post them, because it was something I wanted to think about first, before I responded emotionally rather than logically. Part of me did want to just say something like, "I'm BIsexual, friend, so that means I would date a man or a woman. At this point in my life, I am more drawn to men, but I have not been in love with someone of either sex." So I'm sharing that here, for clarity's sake.
We recognize (and by "We" I do mean people unburdened by religious dogma) that people's sexuality exists on a spectrum. Sure, there are plenty of people who identify as totally straight, or totally gay, but then there are people who are in between. There are people who identify as pansexual. And asexual. For a little while, I played with the term ambisexual, thanks to my best friend, fAe, who'd begun using that word instead of "bisexual." I also like the term "omnisexual." Regardless, the fact that these words have entered into our vocabulary is evidence that society is recognizing the multitude--the plurality--of identities that exist. And that's only related to our sexuality--one fraction of our whole being.
So my point is, if just one part of us can exist on a spectrum that is fluid and can change, then why is it so difficult for people to recognize that our being as whole is subject to fluctuations, evolutions, metamorphoses? Why, when Aristotle's duality was challenged (and I'm sure Ancient Greece wasn't the first time), when the concept of plurality has existed for centuries, do we still cling to such a dichotomous view of the world and of each other?
I think it has something to do with our obsession over the matter of whether people are inherently good or bad--with the argument between nature and nurture that rages on.
Just last night in class we were discussing the idea that personality disorders imply that a person is characteristically a certain way--that he or she is incapable of changing that part of him or herself. This is a fundamental issue in a field that presupposes people are capable of changing to reach a better state of being!
Last week, I was talking to my friend Caleb about how I imagine my own evolution. I always describe there being a "Kiki-ness" that has remained through all of my chapters of life so far. The core, the soul, the center of who I am is consistent though the layers that encompass that center have grown, sloughed off, regenerated, mutated as a result of my experiences and growth as an individual. I also told him that there would always be a part of me that is sad. There is a sadness I carry in me at all times, because I am aware of the ugliness in the world. The presence of this ugliness makes me sad to be a part of this life, and sometimes that feeling becomes too strong. I have spent years working on learning to focus my energy and attention on the sources of light in my life rather than the places where darkness exists and thrives. But I dwell in both--in darkness and in light. They are both present at all times. I am drawn to the light more often. I have trained myself to return to the light. I have learned how to transform how the darkness makes me feel into something that helps to motivate me rather than drain me. But that sadness is always going to be there. That does not mean that I have not changed, nor that I refuse to. It is simply part of who I am. One part. A small fraction.
And sure, there are other things besides the dark and the light. There are other emotions besides happiness and sadness. The point is that all those things are in me. In all of us. And experience, people, interactions with the world allow us to notice or to dwell within those overlapping shades and realms of existence. It's why I don't see anything ludicrous about the idea of a multiverse. It's why I don't like dichotomies, or at least why I don't like categories that we use to describe each other, because that limits our being to such fractions of who we are and who we are capable of becoming.
As I'm writing this, I'm thinking of sexuality, and how it relates to these ideas as well. And I have to detour a bit to share a short story from yesterday.
I reposted an article about the actress Gillian Anderson coming out as bisexual. I made some joke about my joy in learning this news, and one of my friends from high school commented below "So you WOULD date a guy :P" to which I responded "Hahaha, yes...Why, you know any? Send em my way. Must love X-Files :P" and to which he responded again, "Not anymore. They're either married or jaded :P" and I said, "Yep. Seems to be the consensus." I'll save my diatribe about the difficulties of dating for another time. But I was struck by his jest about my sexual preference.
My initial response, what I really wanted to type was "Wait, do people think that I'm a lesbian? Why do they think that? Is what I post indicative of a person liking women only?" and a few other questions that would never get an answer, because I decided not to post them, because it was something I wanted to think about first, before I responded emotionally rather than logically. Part of me did want to just say something like, "I'm BIsexual, friend, so that means I would date a man or a woman. At this point in my life, I am more drawn to men, but I have not been in love with someone of either sex." So I'm sharing that here, for clarity's sake.
We recognize (and by "We" I do mean people unburdened by religious dogma) that people's sexuality exists on a spectrum. Sure, there are plenty of people who identify as totally straight, or totally gay, but then there are people who are in between. There are people who identify as pansexual. And asexual. For a little while, I played with the term ambisexual, thanks to my best friend, fAe, who'd begun using that word instead of "bisexual." I also like the term "omnisexual." Regardless, the fact that these words have entered into our vocabulary is evidence that society is recognizing the multitude--the plurality--of identities that exist. And that's only related to our sexuality--one fraction of our whole being.
So my point is, if just one part of us can exist on a spectrum that is fluid and can change, then why is it so difficult for people to recognize that our being as whole is subject to fluctuations, evolutions, metamorphoses? Why, when Aristotle's duality was challenged (and I'm sure Ancient Greece wasn't the first time), when the concept of plurality has existed for centuries, do we still cling to such a dichotomous view of the world and of each other?
I think it has something to do with our obsession over the matter of whether people are inherently good or bad--with the argument between nature and nurture that rages on.
Just last night in class we were discussing the idea that personality disorders imply that a person is characteristically a certain way--that he or she is incapable of changing that part of him or herself. This is a fundamental issue in a field that presupposes people are capable of changing to reach a better state of being!
Last week, I was talking to my friend Caleb about how I imagine my own evolution. I always describe there being a "Kiki-ness" that has remained through all of my chapters of life so far. The core, the soul, the center of who I am is consistent though the layers that encompass that center have grown, sloughed off, regenerated, mutated as a result of my experiences and growth as an individual. I also told him that there would always be a part of me that is sad. There is a sadness I carry in me at all times, because I am aware of the ugliness in the world. The presence of this ugliness makes me sad to be a part of this life, and sometimes that feeling becomes too strong. I have spent years working on learning to focus my energy and attention on the sources of light in my life rather than the places where darkness exists and thrives. But I dwell in both--in darkness and in light. They are both present at all times. I am drawn to the light more often. I have trained myself to return to the light. I have learned how to transform how the darkness makes me feel into something that helps to motivate me rather than drain me. But that sadness is always going to be there. That does not mean that I have not changed, nor that I refuse to. It is simply part of who I am. One part. A small fraction.
And sure, there are other things besides the dark and the light. There are other emotions besides happiness and sadness. The point is that all those things are in me. In all of us. And experience, people, interactions with the world allow us to notice or to dwell within those overlapping shades and realms of existence. It's why I don't see anything ludicrous about the idea of a multiverse. It's why I don't like dichotomies, or at least why I don't like categories that we use to describe each other, because that limits our being to such fractions of who we are and who we are capable of becoming.
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