The Riddle of Authenticity

It has been said that spiritual work starts with a kind of crisis of authenticity.

The seeds for this crisis are sown early in life. We trade our “authenticity” as children - our screaming, our wildness, our emotions - for the approval of our parents. Over time, sometimes subtly, we agree to stuff the big emotions and wild expressions into a cavernous, invisible “bag” – out of the very real fear that we might drive our caregivers crazy, or worse. So we chop off that bigness- our very real, authentic, human wildness. And we have to. Because as children, it’s the only way to ensure our survival.

Later in life, after this early compromise for our safety isn’t even remembered, we maintain the agreement as teens and then as adults. Only now, instead of parents, we seek the approval of peers, colleagues, employees and family. As time goes on, this sacrificing of our realness for others approval may cause us to grow more and more frustrated and depressed. We may not know why, but we feel it. The quiet desperation becomes so loud we wish we could just escape, be free, be “ourselves.” In men, this can manifest as anger problems, substance abuse, affairs and more.

Alas, nothing, no matter the potency, seems to work. No matter how hard we scratch the itch, the itch don’t seem to quit. What’s going on?

My moment of truth

My moment of truth came on the New Jersey Turnpike.

I was driving home to New York City from a job interview in Philadelphia. The job was kind of a dream job - that is, a dream job for my Dad. But at that point in my life, I was basically programmed to attempt to live the life my dad wanted for me. Not very authentic.

I still remember the moment, driving down the highway, tears in my eyes, talking to my girlfriend on the phone.

“I have to take the job,” I said. “I have to.”

“No you don’t. You don’t have to take the job,” she slowly said back to me.

She got through. I broke. I didn’t have to run on the treadmill anymore. I could let it all go.

I said no to the job. Which opened up a whole other can of worms (another story).

Our turn

One thing we notice is we want the right to freely express our emotions and follow our desires. We’re tired of living a life that looks good on the outside, but doesn’t feel true on the inside. It’s our turn, we think.

Here’s where the trouble can turn into a crisis. We tell ourselves we aren’t going to “stuff” our anger next time, or that we’re tired of being treated a certain way, or that we’re finally going to quit our job to write that screenplay. We’ve had it and we’re tired of compromising.

One day, we follow through. We express the anger, speak our truth, quit our job. Only it doesn’t exactly go as well as we had hoped. We might blow up at someone, trash a relationship or a marriage, or realize we didn’t think through how writing would pay the bills.

And so, frustrated with our fate, mad at ourselves, and jaded with life, we draw the conclusion that being authentic doesn’t really work. Sure, we figure, all that self-help kool-aid we drank might work on Instagram or Oprah - but it’s too late for us. We might even think being real is for kids – forgetting it was as kids when we first learned to leave our real selves behind .

We conclude that if this is how the world works, if we can’t have what we want, be who we want to be, well then, we are going to take our ball and go home.

Tantrums are not authenticity

This is a mistake. What we have done here is common precisely because it is common. What we are trying to do is individuate, to adult, to Self. And there are precious few people who have succeeded at that task available to mentor us or model after.

The culture we swim in - movies, social media, all the rom-coms and yes, even the self-help books - sell us the narrative that the secret to life is getting in touch with the part of us longing to be expressed, and then, simply expressing it. Letting the animal out of its cage.

And while this is indeed part of the story, the way it’s often told leaves out the other (less sexy) half, which goes like this: What if the part you are giving voice to is that vestige of childhood that never learned how to skillfully express a challenging emotion or an overwhelming desire? What if that part really is still 8 years old? What if the part you are giving voice to is not - even to you - the most important voice in your brain, just the most important right now?

The movies aren’t showing us authenticity. They’re showing us fantasy. They’re taking our money in exchange for the idea that we can fix it all in an instant, if only _____. They’re showing us what we are white-knuckled to have: a way to blast through our anxiety, desperation and pain. A way to finally make it all OK. To feel our vitality, our essence again. To be free. Great story, bad strategy.

Distinction #1

The want for vitality and essence and freedom is good and right. The insistence that we can achieve it simply by letting the animal out of its cage is misguided and immature. And, it’s equally misguided to interpret our failures to get free (blown up relationship, company or mental health crisis) as something wrong with us or with the world. It’s not.

Third way

As with so much of the world - business especially - the way through is neither everything we want nor everything the world seems to ask of us. The path we need to walk is a kind of negotiation. We aren’t just going to let our wild man or our frustrated child rip. But we also aren’t going to stifle them, either. Think about that. Most of us spend our lives flip flopping between those two options.

It turns out, there’s a third way.

Instead, we’re going to learn to breathe, settle down, and listen to the voices speaking. We’re going to learn to hear what they want, decide what we want to do, and make a choice based on all of the information that we have, emotions included.

It’s not the instant gratification path of getting everything we want like in the movies. Nor is it the self-sabotaging, self-stifling, outwardly destructive path of letting our pent-up frustration throw a hail mary.

We learn to hold our truth as more than just one voice, but as a larger collection of voices, a multitude within us.

This is the essence of maturity: to expand the number of wants and perspectives we can hold. Even - especially - within ourselves.

Distinction #2

There can be no fulfillment, no durable satisfaction, no sense of a life well-lived without genuine maturation, without growing ourselves up. We need to admit we’re not as mature as we like to think we are, we just play one on TV. If this bit doesn’t resonate or isn’t for you - no judgment - you’re reading the wrong blog. Free advice.

“The unexamined life is not worth living”

- Socrates

When we learn to hear and even verbalize (tactfully, in good timing, and to the appropriate audience) the moment-to-moment truth of what we are feeling, fearing or wanting, we are becoming truly authentic. When we learn to temper our strong emotional urges (especially when we don’t recognize them as emotions) - no matter how positive or negative - we become trustable. Not trustable by others because we’ll do whatever they want or expect. But trustable - finally - by the only one that matters in the end: our own, ever watchful, ever hopeful, sense of personal integrity.

We come into alignment.

Because it takes so long and we go through so many difficult stages - 1) shutting ourselves down for survival as children, 2) conforming for social acceptance as young adults, 3) flipping between self-stifling and self-immolating on through midlife, until 4) finally beginning the difficult, patient and meaningful work of authentic self-expression - it’s no wonder true authenticity remains such a rare and seldom seen human phenomenon. Most people don’t make it past #2, fewer still past #3.

You can’t kill the ego, but you can mature it

The reward of doing the work to embody a life of authenticity is nothing less than the gift of our one true life. We were put here not to escape from our pain, but to learn - in spite of our pain - to create outcomes that are soul-fulfilling for us and life-giving for the planet and the people who matter to us. Outcomes that make us proud. Outcomes that finally begin to feel like the essence and vitality we feared we had left behind so long ago.