Do You Know Your True Self?

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British musician Alex James said he celebrated his 20th birthday with drugs, his 30th with alcohol, and his 40th with food. Last week, I (Gary Alan) celebrated my 50th with cheesecake. I guess you could say I’m in the second half of life. And even if I wanted to deny it, life just won’t let me anymore.

For most of us, the first half of life is dominated by the ego, or what Thomas Merton called the “false self.” It’s that part of us that’s consumed with who we think we are, the artificial persona created by job titles, accomplishments, nationality, religious affinity, paycheck, or even age. Our false selves are the masks we wear and the illusions we chase. But at some point, something will happen to make us realize it’s all a grand delusion. Life rears up and punches straight through the facade, revealing what’s underneath for all to see. That’s what happened to me over the last year. 

Two weeks before COVID shut the world down, I lost my job. It was the most traumatic and unethical thing that has happened to me thus far in my life. As a result, I spiraled deep into depression, consumed by anger and resentment, unwilling to face my role in the undoing. Most days I could barely get out of bed. All the things I didn’t have the courage to face about myself were suddenly exposed, live and in technicolor. And worse, everything that made me who I thought I was suddenly vanished: my job title, paycheck, and professional status. In almost every way, it felt like dying a very slow, painful death. And in a way, it was. 

Carl Jung once wrote, “The first half of life is devoted to forming the ego, the second half is going inward and letting go of it.” Our false selves must be deconstructed and released before we move forward. But the vast majority of us do not go willingly into the second half of life; we have to be forced into it. That’s why it often takes incredible suffering or a drastic change before we’re ready to let go of our egos. “The human ego prefers anything, just about anything, to falling, or changing, or dying. The ego is that part of you that loves the status quo—even when it's not working,” warns Father Richard Rohr. Just getting older isn’t enough. 

At my lowest point in this process of shedding my false self, my spiritual director gave me Pema Chodron’s book When Things Fall Apart. In it she writes: 

We are like children building a sand castle. We embellish it with beautiful shells, bits of driftwood, and pieces of colored glass. The castle is ours, off limits to others. We’re willing to attack if others threaten to hurt it. Yet despite all our attachment, we know that the tide will inevitably come in and sweep the sand castle away. 

If I’m honest (and not letting my ego speak), I’m still in the midst of letting my ego die. It’s a painful yet necessary purgation. And though I have no idea what’s next, I can tell you my need for control and significance are slowly being replaced by the desire to just let go and be the real me. The me that has been hidden all these years under my ego and arrogance. 

What’s beautiful is that the second “half” of your life can start much earlier than mine did. We don’t actually have to be getting on in years to shed our false selves. If, for whatever reason, you find something stirring within you to honestly examine your goals, dreams, and values, honor this sacred season. Pause and reflect during this liminal moment on who you once were and who you are becoming. And in your own way, celebrate the birth of your true self.

What We’re Reading, Listening To, Watching

Melanie

• Reading: The Meaning of Mary Magdalene: Discovering the Woman at the Heart of Christianity by Cynthia Bourgeault

• Watching: Loki (Disney+)

Gary Alan

• Reading: The Tao of Pooh and the Te of Piglet by Benjamin Hoff

• Watching: Roadrunner: A Film about Anthony Bourdain