Authenticity and Being Oneself
I will first describe how I understand the concepts of “being oneself” or “being one’s self” and “spiritual unfolding” in this article and then propose their relationship. Since we will speak of “the importance of being oneself in spiritual unfolding,” we may also ask whether we can speak of “the importance of spiritual unfolding for becoming oneself.”
I will retain the expression “being oneself,” although I would prefer to say “having oneself,” as we shall see later.
The Self
The concept of the self corresponds to the English term self or the German Selbst. It refers to what is one’s own, to what belongs to me, as distinguished from what belongs to others—selfhood as opposed to otherness. It does not refer to possessions or objects I own, but rather to everything in which I recognize myself and distinguish myself from others, including my values (what is good and valuable to me).
As Viktor Frankl said, it (the self, presumably, but should be stated) is the sphere of action of the ego, the world in which I move and act. Frankl distinguishes the self from the person. Following the philosopher Max Scheler, he uses the concept of person to refer to the essence of the human being, or spirit (Geist in German).
To illustrate this distinction, he used the following metaphor: the person is like light, which cannot be seen in itself. What we see is what it illuminates, and by analyzing what it illuminates, we infer its properties. Thus, through what the person “illuminates”—that which is valuable, motivating, moving, and committing one to action, namely the self—I can gradually recognize my person, my essence, my spirit.
Spiritual Unfolding (SU)
Why do we speak of unfolding, rather than, for example, development? See comma.
To unfold means to remove something from its wrapping. As it is uncovered, it becomes visible, known, perhaps understood, but it is not modified or changed. Development, by contrast, implies change, growth, and evolution.
Our body develops, as does our psyche or soul. Our spirit (or person), however, does not develop. Rather, it is discovered, unveiled, revealed, and unfolded.
What Is Authenticity?
It is not so easy to be oneself. Sometimes we hold ideas about how we ought to be that do not align with who we truly are, and we end up playing someone else’s role, becoming an impostor.
At times, this false self is reinforced by the expectations of our environment—our parents or society—that we do not dare disappoint. Thus, we do not pursue the career that would bring us fulfillment, but rather the one others expect of us or the one that promises success and social recognition.
Allowing oneself to be who one truly is, with all that this may entail and sometimes at considerable cost, is what we call authenticity.
To cultivate authenticity, we need to develop the capacity to step back from ourselves so that we may observe and perceive ourselves. A prerequisite for doing so is accepting ourselves as we are and accepting what we have. Only what I can change only what I can accept, if it is both possible and appropriate to do so.
We also need a relationship of closeness and appreciation for what is our own, so that we may value and care for it.
Authenticity and Spiritual Unfolding
A fundamental premise of this proposal is that authenticity is a necessary condition for spiritual unfolding. Someone who is inauthentic—an impostor who lives and deceives both himself and others—is not a candidate for unfolding his own person, because he does not possess himself.
On the other hand, is authenticity a sufficient condition?
Undoubtedly, an authentic person already possesses a certain degree of spiritual unfolding, since he listens to the voice of his person and remains faithful to it.
I have met highly authentic people who, when discussing this subject, have said something like:
“Look, I love my family, my friends, my work, and what I contribute to society through them, but do not ask me to love all humanity or a God whose existence I am not even sure of.”
For many people, it is entirely legitimate to be uninterested in expanding their consciousness.
On the other hand, I have known others who, without consciously seeking it—that is, without deliberate intention—possess a profound degree of spiritual unfolding.
Following a path of spiritual unfolding is a personal choice.
The Ego and the Will
The will does not reside in our spirit. The spirit may send us messages about what it considers important, but it cannot carry them out on its own. The one who must receive these messages is the ego.
However, the spirit is not the only voice that speaks to us. The body speaks through its needs, such as hunger. The psyche (or soul) speaks through its desires, fears, and emotions. The external world also speaks through its demands and expectations.
The ego must interpret these multiple voices, provided it is aware of them, and respond through action—or choose not to respond, which is itself a response. If we fail to meet the demands of the body—for example, by not feeding it—or those of the psyche, these voices will no longer speak softly; they will cry out with great force. The same is true of the external world. The spirit, however, does not shout; it whispers. That is why it is so easy to overlook.
The ego is the interpreter and executor within every human being. Since it embodies the will, it is responsible for what it does with and within life. In addition to interpreting the messages of the body, psyche, and spirit, as well as those of the external world, the ego must properly manage its responses through action.
Let us use a company as a metaphor for the human being. The customers represent the external world; the physical and organizational structures represent the body; the employees—with their demands and dreams—represent the soul; the board of directors represents the spirit; and the manager represents the ego.
A good manager should not have personal interests in competing organizations, nor even in the company itself. The manager must remain free of private interests that might interfere with faithfully carrying out the board’s directives while also responding effectively to the needs of the customers.
Similarly, the ego should be free from personal interests that interfere with fulfilling what the spirit requires in its relationship with the external world, while also caring for the body and the soul.
What might these “personal interests” be? They are identifications of the ego that make it feel important and visible in itself, beyond its proper function, thereby constructing what we commonly call the “ego” or a pseudo-self.
Here, the ego identifies itself with the self or with certain aspects of the self: “I am what is mine,” or, in other words, “I am what I have.”
The value of the self—of what is mine, of what I possess—is that it constitutes the field of action for the ego in the service of the person or spirit. Therefore, it must remain dynamic. When something that belongs to me no longer serves the spirit, the ego should let it go.
But if “I am what is mine,” then I cannot let it go, because I would cease to be myself.
An ideal ego would be one without its own content, empty of identifications and free from egos. Such a state, however, is extremely difficult to attain, especially in a competitive society where we must project an image to present and sell ourselves.
A completely free ego is not the by-product of authenticity, but it is the goal of spiritual unfolding.
An authentic individual requires sufficient freedom of the ego to attain a fulfilled, meaningful life by realizing the person’s values within the world. In spiritual unfolding, the person seeks to love in an ever-expanding way until virtually everything is included, becoming one with that totality.
Any trace of ego would create some degree of separation that opposes complete union. By completely emptying itself, the ego can return the spirit to its original source.
The Relationship Between the Self and Spiritual Unfolding
Possessing oneself and allowing oneself to be who one is is what we have called authenticity. Consider the following edit to avoid the double “is.”
Allowing oneself to be who one is and possessing oneself is what we call authenticity.
As stated earlier, the self consists of what is mine, and I am not what is mine; I merely possess it. I possess it only insofar as it can serve the person, and for this reason, I cannot relate to what is mine possessively.
The self may therefore be seen as an instrument in the service of the spirit. It is the field of action of the ego, especially when the ego acts on behalf of the person, the spirit.
The self consists of a vast number of elements, beginning with the body and psyche (the soul), but also including values, abilities, profession, relationships, and social networks, as well as economic and intellectual resources.
In practice, the instrument is not a single instrument but an entire symphonic orchestra, complete with a choir, whose conductor is the ego, interpreting and performing the music of the spirit.
Not all instruments must always play. Sometimes it may be a violin solo. Certain instruments may no longer be needed, while others may become necessary.
If the conductor favors a particular instrument, the conductor may continue to use it even when it is no longer needed. If the conductor dislikes an instrument that is necessary, the conductor may omit it, thereby sacrificing the composer’s music.
What Do I Need for Spiritual Unfolding?
One who longs for spiritual unfolding seeks complete freedom from the ego and wishes not to be bound by identifications with elements of the self.
To achieve this, one must have a clear understanding of oneself and of the roles played by the elements that constitute the self. For this purpose, practices that foster the necessary self-distancing are helpful: meditation, retrospection, feedback, and similar exercises.
A well-known Indian yogi taught a meditation in which one repeatedly asks, “Who am I?” Every answer that arises must be discarded according to the principle: “If I can see it, I am not that.”
We might reformulate it this way: “It belongs to me, but I am not it.”
I know a distinguished thinker and writer, now eighty-two, who has written dozens of books. A few weeks ago, as I was finishing this essay, he told me that after re-reading his most recent book, published a little more than a year ago, he realized he could no longer write it with the same solidity and coherence.
This realization caused him profound anguish. He told me that if this “decline” continued at the same pace, he would not be able to bear it much longer and would travel to a country where euthanasia was available, regardless of his physical health or the absence of physical suffering.
“It is because I would cease to be myself and my life would no longer have meaning.”
I replied: “I understand that your magnificent work is a large part of what is yours, and also a great contribution you leave to society, which makes it ours as well. But, regarding yourself, who are you? What is yours? Are you only what you possess? If you would like to talk about it, I am available to you.”
I hope he chooses to take that step.
I present this example to show that even highly accomplished people may identify with what they possess—their abilities, achievements, professions, roles, external circumstances, and social status—and struggle to let go.
Dear Reader:
Can you recognize your own identifications?
If it is difficult to see them, can you ask those close to you, who know you well, which ones they perceive in you?
Can you glimpse how much freedom you might gain if you were able to release them?
What would you need to do so?
Do you long for spiritual unfolding?
Can you see what you need to pursue it?
