Our conditioned self

How much of what you do is a reaction - by which I mean something without conscious input? If we watch ourselves for a time we soon learn that many of our reactions are impulsive; we seem to react to so many situations without any conscious thought. This is particularly true for me when what is happening affects my sense of self, when what is being done or said makes me feel somehow "less than."


Also, I have been constantly surprised by how much of what I say is a reaction rather than a considered response. I came from a study session once, challenged to write down a mission statement for myself, and wrote "Today, I will be me - no more, no less." It was the start of trying to avoid adding something to myself (my sense or image of myself) or subtracting something from myself. I tried to stop impressing others by being bigger or grander and also to stop thinking less of myself. 


In searching for an authentic "me" in all of the hustle and bustle I was bringing to my life I had to fight my conditioning. It was a long list and pervaded every aspect of my life: I had a supposed national identity (being British, don't you know) which I have shed; an idea of what it meant to be a man, husband and father; the approval of my peers and friends - a desire to be liked, even popular; and a large chunk of prejudice that came from just not thinking about what I was being told by much of the press for example. All of these combined to make my response a conditioned one - a reaction where little of me would be visible.


The biggest burden that I had to shed was my "memory" of the past; I had to learn to ignore what had gone before and been processed by my thinking into a perverted variant of reality -  to realise that the story I told myself about my life and what people had "done to me" was false, a filtered version of the truth viewed from a self-centred perspective. 


A story about my relationship with my brother is a good example of this. I had spent a good deal of my adult life in conflict with my brother; it was all unspoken and motivated by a belief that he didn't care much for me, which I overlaid with projections of selfishness. I was driving to a party for his birthday, which was held in his village hall, where I would know few people and be dependent on my brother's attention to feel welcome, attention I "knew" wouldn't be forthcoming. I meditated on why this was always the same when we met, that I always became angry and disappointed with him. And a sudden realisation struck me - that it needn't be like this and that it was me bringing the problem to the relationship, not him. I realised that if I removed - or ignored - the imagined sense of hurt I felt, then things would be better. I resolved to wipe the slate clean and to start again with him that very night. The promise of enjoying myself and having a good time with him and his family came true and we experienced a new closeness which has lasted.