Untroubled by the external world, I move about my personal realm, my acre, in a state of pure consciousness. I notice, I observe, I wonder, I ponder. Every now and then, I receive a small shock when seeing my reflection in a glass surface which will remind me of the body I'm in.
In social circumstances, the ego kicks in. "What story do I tell?" You have to be able to tell compelling stories - about anything, business, economics, science, art, the human condition, to be relevant to others. No one wants to listen to a dullard or a bore. To tell a story, you need to project, to profess, to be armed with a thousand and one rhetorical devices. Start 'umming' and 'ahhing' indecisively and your listener(s) switch off.
But without listeners, without social interaction, I become pure me. Unconcerned about physical appearance when in my own space, all is well. However, I am concerned about physical fitness; to have a fit body to carry around my consciousness longer, so as to gain in wisdom. In solitude, there is no danger of faux pas, of embarrassment, of inadvertently hurting or being hurt. Of misreading others' intentions or emotions.
I woke last night at 01:20 for a wee. In the darkness, I became aware of the outline of my occipital orbits, my cheekbones and the shape of my nose, as perceived from within, by my eyes. A consciousness within a body, a 65-year-old one, albeit one in good shape [mustn't ever be complacent!] in the darkness, a frame of reference. Looking out, from within. No ego, but self-consciousness...
Suddenly I am at primary school, first year juniors, awkward and isolated. As a child I had a pronounced squint - rectified with an operation at Moorfields Eye Clinic at the age of nine. Until then, I wore small, round NHS glasses, sometimes with the right lens taped over in the belief that this would make my left, 'lazy', eye do what it was meant to do. This negatively affected my social life at school, something I only realised after the successful operation, when, without glasses, I quickly gained acceptance among my classmates. Maybe this when the ego awoke, leading the charge, going on later to win student elections, a splendid and popular fellow. But was it really me?
Self-consciousness (as opposed to self-awareness) is a preoccupation with oneself, associated with shyness or narcissism, its polar opposite. I don't like having to think what other people (in particular strangers) think of me, preferring to move through the world unnoticed. Trying to blend in, to look 'normal'. To see, but not be seen.
As one ages, the ego subsides, pure consciousness kicks in. Intuition guides understanding. Competitiveness, showing off, comparing oneself to others, are all ultimately futile forms of behaviour. I feel best being my consciousness - and maybe this is why one gets to feel happier as one ages - the fading of the ego and its sense of entitlement.
This time four years ago:
The Day the Forecasters Got It Wrong
This time five years ago:
Carlo Rovelli's The Order of Time
This time nine years ago:
W-wa Wola became W-wa Zachodnia Platform 8 two years ago today
This time ten years ago:
From yellow to white - dandelions go to seed
This time 11 years ago:
The good topiarist
This time 13 years ago:
Wettest. May. Ever.
This time 15 years ago:
Blackpool-in-the-Tatras
[My last visit to Zakopane - good riddance to the place]
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