I read a quote recently by Flannery O’Connor saying “I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” That has been my exact experience. I start writing with a general idea in mind, but I have yet to accurately predict where that idea will lead. Whatever topic I’m exploring usually takes on its own form, and I end up tagging along for the ride. The more I write, the more I learn about myself. This has become my primary reason for writing—I love finding out something new about myself, and writing is the best way I’ve figured out thus far to do so.
One topic I’ve been meaning to explore is the concept of “losing oneself in one’s work.” I think every human being has had the experience of being so immersed in a task that everything else in the world seems to slip away, including our own concept of ourselves. For me, I often experienced this while dancing. If I return to ballet again and again throughout these posts, bear with me. I apologize for the monotony, but it’s often the best analogy I have for things. During rehearsals, I was able to forget about the bad grade, or the stress of homework, or the argument I just had. On stage, I often felt more alive than I ever had before. My daily routines, shuffling from school to home and back again, felt like I was watching life happen instead of existing inside each experience. The moments on stage felt rich and textured, like I was finally immersed within my own life instead of peering in from the outside. I often noticed during these experiences that I seemed to lose myself in the experience. Quite literally, it was almost as if “me” as a separate entity became lost, and I merged with the scene of dancers, moving together through the choreography as separate parts of one whole. This was probably quite helpful, since conformity is definitely the name of the game when you’re one of 20 identically dressed snowflakes.
When we actually think about the words “losing oneself,” they imply that we are relieved of the responsibility of thinking about our own person for a period of time. In doing so, we become unburdened by our individuality. We are able to wriggle out from under our fears and leave them in a pile along with the roles and responsibilities we normally carry. We become lighter and can more easily shift into alignment with whatever task we are performing. Relieved of our personal hang-ups, we are free to merge with our current experience, almost as if our bodies and minds are simply the vehicles through which our work is becoming actualized. Maybe we crave these experiences because human beings are not actually billions of little isolated entities wandering around the planet. Our bodies create the illusion that we are separate, but maybe our true, soul-level state is one of connection. By engaging so wholly in an experience that we momentarily forget our individual identities, we are able to sense that subtle, elusive feeling of knowing we are in the right place at the right time.
Unfortunately, we will lose ourselves in almost anything in order to gain temporarily relief from the often burdensome experience of being a human being. We forget ourselves in other people, TV, drugs, alcohol, thrill seeking, and eating. The maddening problem with throwing ourselves into these behaviors is that we miss out on what we are actually craving– interconnection. The distance from worries and insecurities may feel liberating for a moment, but mindless distractions place us further from, not closer to, the authentic experiences that we desire. These behaviors, while seemingly analogous to “losing oneself” in work/play, are actually the opposite. Yes, we are able escape out of our minds, but instead of reconnecting with our environment, we disconnect from the world altogether. Performed too many times, these behaviors leave us like a hungry ghost: always eating, never full.
Whether our vice is more serious (alcohol) or benign (binge watching Netflix), I believe that recognizing the emotional struggle at the root of the behavior is the best path towards healing. For me, creating a story that honors the natural human nature beneath the behavior is the surest way towards experiencing lasting change while maintaining a nonjudgmental, empathetic approach towards myself and others. I choose to believe that all of humanity is hardwired for connection and creativity. However, because we are imperfect beings in an imperfect world, these needs are very frequently not met. What arises is an uncomfortable, queasy gut feeling and a sense that something is just not right. Our instant gratification world has taught us that these feelings are not normal and are to be squashed immediately by the newest video game, or wine, or shopping spree. I see us as having two options. We either find innovative ways to re-establish a feeling of interconnection and purpose, or we press the easy button and disconnect altogether. The story I’ve chosen to believe is that these unpleasant emotions arise as openings to a different way of living, hinting to us that we are meant for something greater than our current situation. If we replace our fear with curiosity, we will notice that life’s hard moments often come with personalized invitations to a much richer way of living. Maybe that sensation of losing ourselves within creative pursuits can be viewed as signposts along this new life, keeping us engaged in the activities through which we can simultaneously fulfill our own needs while providing maximum benefit to those around us.