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Practicing Interdependence: The Individual Identity
Our second reading is by Mark Epstein, another psychiatrist and a practicing Buddhist. He writes about the
relationship of Buddhist psychology and Western psychotherapy.
Self-development, self-esteem, self-confidence, self-expression, self-awareness, and self-control are our
most sought after attributes. But Buddhism teaches us that happiness does not come from any kind of
acquisitiveness, be it material or psychological. Happiness comes from letting go. In Buddhism, the
impenetrable, separate, and individuated self is more of the problem than the solution.
While psychotherapy has a long tradition of encouraging the development of a strong
sense of self, Buddhism has an even longer tradition of teaching the value of collapsing
that self. "
Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart by Mark Epstein
In the passage above, Epstein first describes a way of understanding our identity or self that is common
in the West. Western psychotherapists, in particular, talk about helping their clients to develop their
"true selves." The process of developing a true self involves making one's own choices, and doing what
is right for oneself rather than what others say is right. Thus the true self is separate from others,
and not easily influenced. Rationality is essential in this process. By reason, one recognizes what is
desirable for the self, and what influences to accept. Reason is what sets us apart from other animals
and makes us truly human.
There is much about this view of the self that resonates with being a UU. We generally value rationality,
and we don't want other people telling us what to do. We believe in a "free and responsible search for truth
and meaning," (that's principle number four) rather than a creed. We don't want to go along with the crowd.
When I think of my role in the interconnected web from this perspective, the web looks like a collection of
entities who interact with each other while remaining separate. I am a part of the web, and I recognize that
my actions affect others, as their actions affect me. Some of the interactions are subtle and surprising.
A butterfly flaps its wings in China, and the weather changes in San Francisco.
But still, we are separate. The actions of others will not change my identity, unless I choose to let that happen.
It is as if there is a boundary around my self, with a sign posted: "Interdependence stops here."
It's hard to maintain this view of the self and the interconnected web when we consider the kind of emotional
regulation that Josie described earlier. In the interaction of two limbic brains, each influences the other,
even to the point of changing neural connections. So as Josie and I worked on this service together, her
emotional signals were reshaping my brain. Just think about that! And this happens all the time, mostly
outside of our awareness.
With this kind of interaction, we can't make rational decisions about whether or not to allow ourselves
to be changed. The rational mind doesn't even notice what is going on. So my identity is not as self-determined
as I believed a few paragraphs ago while I was focusing on my "true self." The boundaries of the self are
permeable. We are less separate than we thought, and more interdependent.
I find all of this both disconcerting and delightful. It's disconcerting to consider that I have much less
control than I thought over who I am. It's delightful to think that our everyday interactions with each other
can do so much for our mental health. Now I can feel as virtuous hanging out at the coffee shop as sweating
in the gym.
But I do need to be careful about who I hang out with. If my companions are shaping me all the time, I'd better
associate with people whose influence will change me in ways I like.
Actually, this is a big part of what brought me to UUCPA after eight years as a lapsed UU. At that time I was
working in a company much like others in Silicon Valley. The prevailing ethical standards there left me feeling
a bit uncomfortable. It's not that people were breaking laws or even regulations. But people were paying a lot
of attention to money, and not much to the individual's inherent worth and dignity or the welfare of the
interconnected web.
Influenced by my surroundings, I felt myself slipping into attitudes that I didn't like. If I had been focusing
on building my "true self," I might have dealt with this by strengthening my boundaries and my determination.
I would have blocked, or at least tried to block, the influence of others. Instead, I came to this spiritual
community in part to counter that influence. And I'm glad to say that it seems to be working.
So far I've offered two ways of viewing the individual in the interconnected web: the solid and separate
"true self," and the self shaped by limbic connection. Is one of these views right and the other wrong?
I don't think it's that simple. The world is so vast and complicated. Look at it from one angle, and
certain patterns and relationships stand out clearly. Look at it from a different angle, and new patterns
and relationships become visible while the old ones disappear. And a new perception of the world can change
our interactions with the world, which can lead to further new perceptions. Josie says she has been talking
differently to her dog Travis since she's been thinking so much about mammals.
As I explore these two perspectives on the self, I long for a unifying viewpoint that would allow it all
to fit together. But I'm not there yet. I think one of the things we do in this community is offer each
other our many ways of experiencing the world. And then we allow ourselves to be affected and shaped by
what we hear.
There is one more perspective on the self and the web that I want to mention. This is the Buddhist view.
Recall that Epstein said, "In Buddhism, the impenetrable, separate, and individuated self is more of the
problem than the solution." The Buddhist notion of the self is so fluid, with such open boundaries,
that it's referred to as "no-self." And the Buddhist notion of interdependence is so profound that
it's called "inter-being."
I won't try to explain "no-self" and "inter-being", because I hav
e only momentary glimmers of what these words mean. Still, I am
intrigued by the concepts. I have found so much value in more
accessible parts of Buddhist teachings that it seems worth the effort to try to understand these.
For example, life gets easier when I can stop clinging to the way I would like things to be and accept
the world as it is. And I think that means accepting that my cherished identity is not under my control.
In this light, I'd like you to consider the Zen saying in our order of service.
May we exist like a lotus,
The lotus, a symbol of Buddhism, grows in water, and appears to float on the surface.
In reality, though, its long stem holds the flower just above the water. As the water moves, it tugs
on the stem, so that the blossom seems to bow.
In the context of this sermon, we might imagine our identity, our self, as the flower, rooted in the muddy
water of connection, influence, and interdependency. We can't see into the muddy water, so we don't what's
going on there. It's a mystery. To be at home in the water is to accept that reality, what we like about
it and what we don't. As we "bow to life as it is," we recognize how interdependence shapes us in ways that
are beyond our control.
And still, isn't the flower lovely?
What is your reaction to this sermon? Please send comments to Susan Owicki
Susan Owicki
July 20, 2003
Palo Alto, CA "The Western psychological notion of what it means to have a self is flawed. . . . Afflicted, as
we are, with a kind of psychological materialism, we are concerned primarily with beefing ourselves up.
At home in the muddy water.
Thus we bow to life as it is."
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