The Glue Of ‘Identification’

The everyday mind creates an image or idea of who we are that is based upon its own unacknowledged limitations (the everyday mind can only ever do anything on the basis of its unacknowledged limitations) and then the next thing is that we become flatly convinced that this really is who we are, that it isn’t ‘just an image or idea’. The narrower our mind is therefore, the narrower will be the sense of self that is produced by that mind.


The sense of self that we are talking about here so very casually is no small thing – it may be only a ‘sense’ but it’s as entrapping as a Category-1 prison. The SOS isn’t just like a prison, it is a prison – it’s the most formidable prison ever constructed. The idea that we have of ourselves may be only an ‘idea’ but in practice it’s like a deep dark hole that we fall into and can’t ever climb out of. Our conceptual identity is only ‘an abstract description’ it’s true, but we’re stuck fast to it as if by the strongest glue ever invented. It is as if we are bonded to it on the molecular level.


The power that the everyday mind has to trap us in its picture or image of us is absolutely overwhelming – we have no more ability to escape from it than an iron filing has the ability to escape from an ultra-powerful magnet. It is such a very unequal fight that we’re talking about here and in this context it just never happens that David overcomes Goliath. So powerful is ‘the glue of identification’ that we don’t even know that we’re ‘stuck’ to the mind’s description of us. We just can’t get it, and even if we did – by some fluke – catch a glimpse of this truth, then we’d still have that immense magnetic pull to content with and the thing about this pull is that when it ‘sucks us in’ we lose whatever bit of perspective we had gained and with the loss of this precious perspective we forget what we had learnt. What we had just learned makes no sense to us anymore. And even if we do still remember it is very hard to trust our insight or give it any credence when the Tyrant of Thought is exerting its full hold on us. It’s very hard not to be browbeaten by the Tyrant of Thought…


Certain states of mind cause the thinking mind to tighten its grip on us even more than usual. Examples of such states would be anger, anxiety, obsession, desire and jealousy – when we are under the power of these constrictive states of mind we are identified with image or sense of ourselves that is extremely narrow and this causes us pain. Rage or jealousy, for example, causes us to become a veritable caricature of ourselves – as we all know. We become distorted, laughable, ‘cartoon versions’ of ourselves and yet somehow – we ourselves don’t know it, even though everyone else and plainly see the transformation that has occurred to us. [Thought always turns us into caricatured version of ourselves, but it’s not usually as dramatic as this.] When we are in the grip of what Tibetan Buddhists call an ‘afflictive emotion’ such as anger we aren’t directly or honestly aware of the pain that being trapped in such a very narrow ‘sense of self’ is causing us – instead of seeing the pain where it belongs we project it outside of ourselves and see it as being the ‘fault’ of someone or something else, which – of course – fuels the anger all the more. Anger is a ‘self-fuelling mechanism’ therefore – it doesn’t need a basis in reality in order to continue to exist!


The very same ‘displacement mechanism’ is at work in all the afflictive emotions, as well as operating in anxiety and the obsessional states – which are not strictly speaking ‘emotions’. When we are in the grip of desire then our sense of self narrows viciously and causes us pain but because we are fixated upon the object of our desire we believe that the pain we’re in (which is the suffering of craving) comes about because we don’t have whatever it is we want to have. When we have obtained the prize – we believe – then the pain will end and instead of the suffering of craving we will experience transports of joy. This then – in an exactly parallel fashion to the case of anger – fuels and reinforces the ‘desire state’ and so it is – as a consequence – very hard to escape from this loop of logic. In the case of anxiety we don’t feel ‘the pain of restriction’ because we are – again – ‘fixated entirely upon the outside’; we see our distress as being due to the possibility of ‘things going wrong’ (not because of our assumed identity being so painfully restrictive) and so we see the only possible solution to our predicament is as being ‘the correction of the situation that is threatening to go off the rails’. We are always ‘looking for solutions’ in other words and this automatic mental activity of ‘looking for a solution’ feeds back into the anxiety-cycle and reinforces it. Once anxiety starts up it can (and it does) keep on going all by itself, in other words.


Because of the compensatory mechanism that comes into operation just as soon as we get subsumed within the ‘afflictive emotion’ in question, we never see what has happened to us; we never observe that our awareness has been restricted to the tremendous extent that it has been. All of our attention is ‘on the outside’, all of our awareness has been consumed by whatever passion it is that has afflicted us. We can point to this mechanism very easily in the case of the afflictive emotions (which are known as ‘the seven deadly sins’ in Christianity and ‘the five poisons’ (or ‘five Kleshas‘) in Mahayana Buddhism, but there is a subtler point to be made here and that point has to do with the way this mechanism operates in the case of the mind-created sense of self, which is also ‘a pain-producing restriction of our being’ – even when it’s ‘in neutral’ with regard to emotional state. Exactly the same applies to the everyday identity that we have been supplied with by the thinking mind and which we understand in all good faith to be ‘who we are’ – we are effectively prevented from spotting the trick is that has been played on us by our mind by constantly having our attention drawn (compulsively drawn) to various ‘issues’, various things that either need to be either fixed or escaped from, gained or avoided. When we see someone who is always running around trying to attain their goals we say “How inspiring!” – the one thing we don’t say “Here is a person with a lot of pain-displacement activity going on…!”


We don’t say this because we are not a psychologically-minded culture, we don’t say this because our entire way of life, our entire modus operandi, is based upon seeing the ‘concrete identity’ as being fundamentally and irreducibly real. This is ‘The taboo against knowing who you are’ that Alan Watts speaks of. When we put the thinking mind on a pedestal, as we have done, then this absolutely means that we have to accept the mind-created sense of self as ‘something that must never be questioned’ – this is the price we pay for adulating the everyday mind in the way that we do (instead of seeing it as simply being ‘a useful tool that must not be on any account be allowed to ‘run away with itself’ and switch places with the one who is supposed to be operating it). Putting our total trust in the TM means totally and unreservedly buying into the package of ‘the mind-created sense of self’, obviously enough…


We idolise the thinking mind in the way that we do because we are afraid to learn that the thought-created world isn’t the only world that there is. If we ever did discover that there is ‘a reality outside of the reality that the thinking mind allows us to know about’ then this might turn out to be ‘the thin end of the wedge.’ If the thin end of the wedge is discovering that there is a reality outside of them so-called ‘reality’ that the thinking mind has provided for us then the thick end of the wedge is realising that the world the thought-created world isn’t actually real at all! With a wedge like this the only thing to do therefore is make very sure that it is never allowed entrance in the first place and this is exactly what the system of thought (which is the same thing as ‘the system of society’) does. The ‘wedge of space’ is never allowed entrance, not even to the smallest degree. To allow any space at all would be the same as allowing the awareness, in a game, that ‘winning’ is a perfectly meaningless proposition – an awareness like this would finish off the game on the spot, just as a dose of cyanide taken by mouth would put a halt to the vital Krebs cycle operating in all the cells of the body that this poison has reached. ‘Awareness of the freedom that we have not to play the game’ is cyanide for the game, which is why James Carse says that we need to ‘veil our own freedom from ourselves’ in order to play a finite game.


Excluding ‘space’ (or eradicating ‘intrinsic freedom’) is the prerequisite of being able to live in the world that thought has created for us therefore – that’s how we get to play this particular game. The ‘plus’ side is that we get to be able to ‘play the game of positive reality’, whilst the ‘minus’ side is that this puts a very big pinch on us. The ‘pinch’ is that we don’t have any space available to us any more – none at all. To say that the positive or mind-created world is ‘a tight fit’ is putting it mildly – it fits like a glove, but the problem with this is that it doesn’t fit ‘us’ but the mind-created construct of us – the positively-defined reality is perfect for the mind-created sense of self (it’s actually an extension of it) but because the mind-created sense of self isn’t in the least bit congruent (in any way) with who we really are, the ‘straitjacket-like fit’ between the false idea of ourselves and the positively-defined environment that this idea needs to be surrounded with on a full-time basis just isn’t any good for us. It’s actually the worst thing ever!


What a terrible trick this is, therefore! The only place we have to look for freedom is in the ‘extrinsic space’ that we are surrounded with on all sides, and which is a projection of the ‘positive self’ that operates mechanically and deterministically within it. ‘Extrinsic space’ is the same thing as Krishnamurti’s ‘psychological time’ – psychological time is the time between wanting something and getting it, it is the virtual space between the formulation of the goal and the realisation of it. Extrinsic space is the space between defined locations on a logical continuum, which isn’t space at all. It is the space between ‘where I think I am’ and ‘where I think I’d like to be’! We have eased the pain of our cruel existential restriction by searching for freedom, meaning and fulfilment within the Realm of Extrinsic Space but this is a barren hunting ground. There never was a more barren hunting ground than this…


We can never find freedom or meaning or fulfilment in the Realm of Extrinsic Space, obviously – how could we ever find freedom, meaning, or fulfilment in the space between ‘where we think we are’ and ‘where we think we’d like to be’ when both of these propositions are entirely non-existent? How can my search for freedom ever get anywhere when the one who is striving so hard to find it isn’t real, any more than the goals through which it believes it can find release through are (and they aren’t real because they are only ‘the deficit-fuelled projections of the unreal self-concept’)? How is this ‘misplaced endeavour’ of ours ever going to come to anything? And yet at the same time the thing that we are most resistant to ever seeing is that there is any ‘pain displacement’ going on, and that the self-concept we think we are doesn’t exist, any more than its cherished and super-attractive goals do. The illusion fuels itself, reinforces itself, and continually reinstates itself, and we’re fast stuck to that self-fuelling illusion with the ‘glue of identification’…









Two Types of Strength


According to James Carse there are two ways of being strong. The first type of strength is what he calls ‘power’ and he defines this as the ability to influence other people without being changed or influenced in return. Power is what is exercised in games: we defend and consolidate our position whilst manoeuvring the other person so that they can’t do what they want, but have to do what we want. Therefore, power is all about winning and losing: the person who is most powerful wins whilst the person who is least powerful loses.


The second type of strength (which James Carse calls simply ‘strength’) is in a way the exact reverse of power. It is not the ability to move (or manipulate) other people from an impregnable position, but the capacity to allow myself to be moved (or influenced) by others in ways that neither I nor they can foresee. To a ‘Type-1 player’ – which is most of us – this sounds suspiciously like letting someone else get the better of you, i.e. being a doormat or a loser, but there is a crucial difference here that is all too easy to overlook.


The difference is this. When I am exercising power, I already know where I want to go, I already know what it is that I want to achieve. All that is left is for me to control the situation as best I can until I obtain the desired goal. James Carse calls this a finite game, and he says that the point about a finite game is that I play in order to not get any surprises. If I am surprised by the other person, then that necessarily means that he or she has ‘got one over on me’. There is no way that this can be good, therefore! Strength, however, rather than power, is the quality that is required by the player of an infinite game, and the player of an infinite game is playing in order to be surprised. He or she does not have a fixed agenda, or goal, and therefore the notion of ‘winning’ or losing’ are both equally meaningless. Surprise isn’t the enemy to someone who is playing the infinite game but rather it’s what makes it all worthwhile.’Being surprised’ is the whole point of life, a player of the infinite game will say. What is life otherwise? Who wants to be ‘proved right’ the whole time?


The player of the infinite game plays in order to learn something new, in order to journey to a place that they have never been to before. If I am a finite player then I always know what I want, and as a consequence I never move beyond my own conceptual horizons, I never move beyond the known. Essentially, I never change because change is the one thing I don’t want to do! If I am an infinite player, on the other hand, then I am open to change. I am curious, open-minded, and willing to find out that what I thought to be true before is perhaps not so ‘definitely true’ after all! Being proven wrong is not a bad thing. Having one’s expectations overturned is not a bad thing – that’s how we grow!


For the finite player what is important is ‘the rule’. Everything is based on the rule and the rule is never to be questioned – in fact, the whole point of power is that it is force which is used unreflectively. The point is to do, not to question why I am doing what I am doing. For the infinite player, the ‘rule’ is only interesting as a stepping-stone. It is interesting because it is part of the journey, not because it is the final destination. The rule exists only to go beyond itself; by itself it is quite meaningless. “Know the rules well, so that you can break them effectively!” says the Dalai Lama. The essential ability in an infinite game is therefore the ability to ‘question the rule’, rather that the ability to ‘act out the rule’ (which would be power, not strength).


We can see how valuable it is to be able to engage in infinite play by considering communication. Carse says that a finite player moves others, but is not moved himself. When I speak as an exercise of power, I am not speaking in order to be surprised – I already know what I am going to say, my beliefs are not to be questioned. The point of communication in finite games is for me to change what you think, for you to be moved by my beliefs. This, however, is a mockery of true communication because it is only one way. Basically, I am not in the least bit interested in your position; I am only interested in what you say so I can use it against you. I don’t actually want to find out anything ‘new’, because I already know that I am right. I already have the answer. The situation is totally different in infinite play: Carse says that an infinite player does not move others, but allows himself or herself to be touched by others. If I am an infinite player, I speak in order to be surprised, I speak in order to learn. I don’t know where the conversation is going to lead because I haven’t got it tightly under control the whole time. In fact, the conversation isn’t under control at all!  True communication can only occur when neither party has the agenda to be ‘right’.


In true communication, both parties are ‘touched’ by the encounter in an unpredictable manner – the interaction is ‘out of control’ for both of them. I am changed by meeting you, and you are changed by meeting me. We both go away different people, we both go away with a different understanding of the world. What has happened is that we have both gone beyond ourselves, gone beyond our limited conceptual boundaries, and this is what the infinite game is all about. We can use a version of Carse’s principle of finite versus infinite play to help us understand anxiety. Instead of ‘power’ versus ‘strength’ we will simply talk in terms of Type-1 strength and Type-2 strength, and we will define the two as follows:


Type-1 strength is the strength to get things to be the way we want them to be, whilst Type-2 strength is the strength to allow things to be the way they already are.


Normally, when people talk about ‘strength’ it is Type-1 strength that they are talking about. We rarely stop to consider that Type-2 strength might be a better answer to the situation. When defined in the way that we did above, Type-2 strength might not even make sense at all. The point is, of course, that there are times when it is both smarter and more courageous to give up the attempt to ‘stay in control’ than it is to keep desperately at it, and ignore the fact that trying to control the situation is not working. Being able to face one’s fear is a basic manifestation of Type-2 strength. Not being able to face fear is what lies behind the reliance on power.


There is more to it than this, though. Normally, we control our realities so tightly that we very rarely get to see stuff that we don’t want to see. And when we do, we make sure that we forget about it pretty quickly. ‘Control’ means that we make the world obey our rules, but the only trouble with this is that if we get too hooked on control then we don’t actually see the world as it is, we only see the world as we made it. Because our ‘managed reality’ conforms so closely to our rules for ‘how it should be’, all there is left is our rules. We have ironed out surprise, and so we end up living in the world of our rules, meeting only those aspects of reality that we feel safe with. This is like being a millionaire who surrounds himself with ‘yes-men’ – he only ever hears what he wants to hear. He is too powerful ever to communicate! After all, as Carse says, we are playing in order not to be surprised.


Being in control of our external environment is one manifestation of Type-1 strength, and this is something we all need to do in order to survive. Being in control of our internal world (the world of thoughts, feeling, memories and perceptions) is another manifestation. What this second manifestation of Type-1 strength amounts to is ‘the ability to only see what we want to’, and we all make heavy use of this ability! Therefore, this type of strength is actually ‘the strength to avoid’ – it is how good we are at not facing up to stuff. It is the strength to distract ourselves.


This second manifestation of Type-1 strength also has its rightful place. When I concentrate on answering a telephone I have to screen out the chatter of people around me, which means that it is a form of self-distraction (i.e. it is a way for me to exclude what I don’t want to know about), but clearly this is a necessary and harmless form of ‘internal control’. If I concentrate on something in order to exclude awareness of some problem that I have, then this is a different kettle of fish entirely. This is psychological denial. When Type-1 strength turns into the ability to avoid reality, then Type-2 strength comes to our rescue as the capacity that we have to actually see reality. This is why we said in the definition above that it is the ‘strength to let things be what they really are’.  Type-2 strength is the strength to ‘drop our agendas’, and let things unfold as they will.  Essentially, it involves the willingness to take a risk, to accept uncertainty, to face the radically unknown.


Type-1 strength always expresses itself in terms of attraction and aversion, [YES] and [NO], [+] and [-]. This is another way of saying that Type-1 strength is based on rules (or ‘certainty’). As we saw in the first handout, a ‘rule’ necessarily involves a black-and-white split between [RIGHT] and [WRONG], [GOOD] and [BAD], positive and negative. A rule causes the ‘separation of opposites’, technically known as a symmetry break because one way of doing things is not at all the same as the other way, and so there is no symmetry or equality between the two possibilities. For this reason, Type-1 strength is inextricably linked with extrinsic motivation, which is motivation that comes from rules (or ‘conditioning’). ‘Extrinsic’ simply means that the source of the motivation is from outside our true self, it is imposed on us and not natural to us.  Type-2 strength is not based on rules, but on uncertainty, i.e. [MAYBE].  Rules say “This is allowed, but that is not allowed”, whereas [MAYBE] says “Everything is equally allowed.”  MAYBE is symmetrical, it presents the same face to all possibilities. Whilst Type-1 strength is always a reaction to an identified reality, Type-2 strength is not a reaction, it is about allowing enough uncertainty to creep in to show us that all our identifications where too hasty, too premature. Type-1 strength is a self-fulfilling prophecy because it always shows us the reality we expected to see, whilst Type-2 strength allows us to see that things are never what they seemed to be….


We can relate certainty with ‘comfort zones’, and uncertainty with what we might call ‘discomfort zones’.  The opposing forces of attraction and aversion that make up automatic thinking are a comfort to us, for the simple reason that they provide us with a basic orientation: if there is something that I see as GOOD, I strive to obtain it, and if there is something I see as BAD then I strive to avoid it. Extrinsic motivation always operates within fixed framework of meaning – in fact it takes that framework totally for granted. This allows me to identify meaningful goals which I can then work towards.


This sounds good on the face of it, but what is really happening is that I am trading off realism for a convenient black & white over-simplification of my situation. I therefore obtain the satisfaction of having both a definite goal to aim at, and a straightforward method or procedure to enable me to reach that goal, and in order to enjoy this feeling of satisfaction I am more than willing to ignore the fact that my model (or ‘map’) of reality is incomplete and inaccurate! This just about sums up comfort zones – by providing us with somewhere in which hide from reality, they allow us to feel a sense of relief and security. This ‘somewhere’ is actually ‘nowhere’ though, because we are no longer in reality.


Reality is not black and white, or YES and NO, and for this reason it is uncomfortable for the thinking mind.  I don’t know what my goals ought to be, and I don’t have a clue what to do in order to help my situation; I know something is called for, but I don’t know what. But why should reality be uncertain? One way to answer this is to say that reality is always more complex than we give it credit for. Another way to answer the question is to say that reality is uncertain because it is always ‘new’. MAYBE is a term which expresses unpredictable development – it means becoming, i.e. the unfolding of something that we don’t understand. MAYBE therefore stands for the dynamic aspect of the universe – its mysterious side, its power to surprise, delight, and terrify. YES and NO, on the other hand, are a way of talking about something that is finally known, a situation that has been evaluated or judged once and for all. For this reason YES/NO stands for a frozen or static representation of reality, a sort of ‘snapshot’. Therefore, extrinsic motivation relates us back to our static snapshot of reality, which is why automatic reactions confirm our expectations in a form of ‘self-fulfilling prophecy’. Intrinsic motivation (or ‘curiosity’) relates us to the way life goes beyond our expectations.


Since Type-2 strength is linked with the capacity to tolerate (or ‘stick with’) uncertainty, we can see that it is actually ‘the strength to stay in reality’. Type-1 strength, as we said earlier, tends to become ‘the strength to evade reality’, the strength to take refuge from the uncomfortable uncertainty of life by ignoring all data that doesn’t fit in with our narrow view of it. Type-1 strength is the strength we use to ‘hang on’ to our comfort zones, whilst Type-2 strength is the strength we use to ‘hang out’ in our discomfort zones.


We need to repeat that Type-1 strength has its rightful place in our lives, because we simply couldn’t survive without being able to control stuff. The only thing is, in order to control effectively, we also have to see the limitations of control, which means we have to be able to ‘let go’ as well as being able to ‘hold on’! Holding on becomes an obstacle if we don’t also know how to let go, because then we can never move on. ‘Holding on’ without ‘letting go’ is worse than useless! The crucial thing to understand is that our difficulties have to do with the fact that we tend to use Type-1 strength to solve all our problems, instead of knowing when to let go, and gracefully drop our attempt to remain firmly in control of everything.


We can also see this in terms of communication: as we saw, James Carse describes the infinite game as the only way we have of being in a genuine dynamic relationship with our environment. In finite games, communication means “telling others what I already know”, which is not a two-way process. In one-way communication, what counts is the power that I have to influence others, whilst not being influenced myself. In two-way communication, what counts is the strength that I have to stay in the uncomfortable zone where I am uncertain of what the other person is saying, as well as being uncertain of what I myself am saying. Type-1 strength, therefore, is the way in which we impose our will on the universe around us, without being open to stuff that has no relevance to our plans. We are talking, but not listening.


Type-2 strength, on the other hand, means being in a state of dynamic two-way communication with everything. The state of being in communication with the dynamic or surprising aspect of the universe we can call consciousness, whilst the state of being safely secluded in that aspect of the universe which matches our narrow expectations, we can call psychological unconsciousness. Consciousness can be defined simply as ‘knowing that we don’t really know’ (i.e. questioning rules), whilst unconsciousness can be defined as ‘thinking that we do know what we’re doing’ (i.e. automatically accepting or obeying rules). Controlling is how we obey the rules and so we feel good when we are in control because we are able to successfully obey the rules! Essentially, we are feeling good because we are managing to avoid our fear of uncertainty.


As we have said, Type-1 strength has two aspects. One aspect is the ability to control the outside world (which covers anything from boiling a kettle to getting dressed in the morning), and the other aspect is to control the internal world of our thoughts, feelings, memories, and perceptions (i.e. what we attend to). Both aspects become counterproductive when we feel that we absolutely have to control, when we feel that we don’t have the freedom not to control. This is the state of mind in which we have totally lost the ability to question the rules that lie behind the controlling, and so we are forced to ‘act out’ the rules no matter what. In this case Type-1 strength is ‘strength that is against ourselves’.


It is easy to see how we set ourselves up for trouble when we absolutely insist on controlling our situation.  If the universe we live in is essentially uncertain, and we are insisting on making it definite, then we are fighting the universe. If, as the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus said, “All is change”, and we try desperately to fight this change, then we have set ourselves an impossible task. We are trying to do one thing that can never be done! Because we cannot challenge the rule which says “This mustn’t happen’ we are forced to put all our money on control, and yet control can never win. It is impossible to win this struggle, and yet it has become infinitely important that I should win, and so here we have anxiety in a nutshell.




Finally, we can round everything up by saying that there are also two types of cleverness and two types of confidence. Type-1 cleverness is the cleverness that allows us to successfully avoid the discomfort of encountering uncertainty. When uncertainty avoidance is my over-all goal then I am constantly calculating the best way to get through the day without having to spend any time in my discomfort zones. There are all sorts of tricks that I can use, all sorts of clever dodges and sneaky manoeuvres. I have all my comfort zones carefully lined up in a row, all my escape routes and back-up plans. This type of cleverness takes up a lot of time, and it easily takes up all of my available ‘thinking power’, because it is such an endless task. What’s more, no matter how clever I am it’s still never going to work out for me in the end…


The universe is always one step beyond me, so there is always the possibility of something going wrong, and that is something I feel that I cannot allow. Type-1 cleverness, although very successful at first, ultimately leads us to disaster because it seduces us into undertaking ‘the impossible task’ the task of predicting what will happen in an unpredictable universe. ‘Its not clever to be clever’, says Gurdjieff. What we provisionally might call ‘Type-2 cleverness’ is on the other hand the cleverness to know when our cleverness is not doing us any favours. It is the cleverness to know when to let go. This type of cleverness is of course better referred to simply as ‘wisdom’!




‘Type-1 confidence’ is the confidence that comes from being secure in our controlling.  It is related to the feeling of well-being that is dependent upon our ability to successfully manipulate our environment. A lot of people who appear to have lots of self-esteem manage to be so confident because they are good finite-game players, because they are experts at playing a particular game. However, this is a type of ‘external confidence’ that derives from ‘external strength’, and it is not at all the same sort of thing as inner peace. Type-1 confidence comes from our strength to be ‘one up’ on the universe, and therefore it constantly has to prove itself. It has no time for failure, either in oneself or in others, and for this reason it is essentially uncaring. Type-2 confidence on the other hand comes from knowing that you don’t have to play the game, knowing that you don’t have to control, knowing that you don’t have to ‘win’. Not winning is more interesting than winning, after all!


The feeling of well-being that is associated with this inner-confidence is dependent on nothing and so it is not pressurized. Neither is it competitive, because it is based on the understanding that it doesn’t really matter at all whether we win or lose. If Type-2 strength is the strength to let the universe be what it is, then Type-2 confidence is confidence in the universe’s ability to be what it already is. Type-2 confidence might be better referred to simply as ‘trust’, therefore.


Type-1 confidence, which is ‘for show,’ is always beset by secret anxiety no matter how good it looks on the surface. It is beset with secret (or sometimes not so secret) anxiety because it is based upon fighting what is inevitably going to be a ‘losing battle’. We ever can’t win this battle and so the very best we can do is stage a ‘theatrical victory’, which is where we deceive ourselves (temporarily) into thinking that we can win, or that we have won. This type of ‘victory’ is a victory over ourselves since the only thing we have succeeded in doing is in fooling ourselves into thinking we are ‘in control’ when we’re not! When we succeed in fooling ourselves in this way (which we do petty much on a full-time basis) then we feel secure, we feel cocky (we can even feel totally arrogant) but all of this is Type-1 confidence, all of this is only ‘for show’. We only fooling ourselves; we taking refuge in comforting illusions…


With Type-2 confidence there is no anxiety, because it is not based on us trying to fool ourselves into thinking that we’re in control when we’re not. There’s no need for anxiety because we’re not trying to ‘succeed at something which deep-down we know we can’t succeed at’. We’re not trying to deceive ourselves, in other words (which is to say, we’re not trying to escape into illusion). We’re not fighting against ‘what is’ – we’re relying on reality to be ‘what it already is’ and so there is no way that this can ever let us down…






Far From Equilibrium


An excellent way to study the thinking mind is by seeing it as an equilibrium system – once we understand equilibrium systems then we will understand the rational mind. To start off with we can say that the key thing about an equilibrium system is that every bit of it exists in relation to the base level. Every aspect of it exists in a state of subservience to the ‘boss level’, the level that never changes. Everything is tethered, everything is tied down firmly – there’s nothing loose, nothing that isn’t defined in relation to this base level. A very straightforward illustration of what we’re talking about here is a table with all sorts of bit and pieces sitting on it; the tabletop is the ‘base-level’ because everything comes to rest here, because everything has its position defined in relation to it. The collection of objects sitting on a table is a perfect example of an equilibrium system – everything has settled down to the lowest possible energy level and that ‘lowest possible energy level’ is the surface of the table.


This may not seem at first like a particularly inspiring image to use in relation to a discussion of how the mind works (being as it is rather unexciting, rather lacking in glamour) but the rational mind isn’t really as interesting or as glamorous as we ‘think’ it is. The rational mind is an equilibrium system and equilibrium systems aren’t exactly known for being exciting! Just as the table we talked about is an E-system, so is the everyday thinking mind. Everything we know – all of our thoughts and concepts and models – are tethered firmly to a base-level and that base-level is the framework that the mind uses to understanding everything by. Or we could also say that the base-level is the set of categories (the set of evaluative criteria) that the mind uses to classify, and thus to describe, the world. Everything comes to rest on the floor of our evaluative criteria – when we ‘know’ something then that is simply because we have slotted it into a category! It is (of course) as mechanical a business as this…


When we know something that whatever it is that we got to know as stopped existing at some unspecified location in the air, and has come rest on the basement level, on the cluttered tabletop of the everyday mind. Whatever datum it is has now come to the end of its journey; there’s nowhere else for it to go – it’s sitting right at the bottom of an ‘energy well’ and that is that. That’s the end of the matter. There is therefore something very ‘dead’ about an equilibrium system – it’s not going anywhere, it’s not ever going anywhere. The whole point is that it doesn’t go anywhere! From the POV of the E-system the datum has arrived at its proper destination and that is very satisfactory to it; from outside of the context of the E-system however we can see that the datum hasn’t really arrived anywhere.  It’s only somewhere because we have said that it is – it’s purely arbitrary when we say that it has ‘got somewhere’, when we say that it has reached its allotted destination.


We might object here that even if the datum in question has come to rest at an arbitrary destination, it is still surely ‘somewhere’. Why do we say that it isn’t anywhere? But the point here is that the terminus station which the bus has pulled into stops being an actual place just as soon as we say that it is a terminus station, since there aren’t actually any ‘termini’ in reality! As soon as we see ‘where we are’ as being the end of the journey this makes where we are (or rather where we understand ourselves to be) everything gets abruptly (if imperceptibly) transposed into a realm of unreality. If reality is a continuous becoming, then anything that isn’t part of that becoming isn’t actually real! If there is something that isn’t becoming then that supposed ‘thing’ has been transposed into a realm of abstraction; it’s now unreal – it’s been turned into a formal statement and formal statements are only real in relation to the framework of reference that we have taken for granted. It is ‘relatively real’ therefore – it’s real only in relation to something which itself isn’t real!


Because every part of the E-system is constructed in relation to the baseline (which is thing we assume to be real which isn’t) we can say that everything in that E-system is the baseline. If everything is defined via the baseline then everything is the baseline. This is like saying that everything which happens in the game is the game. From the perspective of the game, all the nominally different states or possibilities that exist within it (all its categories) are indeed different, but from the outside of the game we can see that all these supposedly different states or possibilities are simply ‘the game’. The same is therefore true for the E-system which is thought – no matter what we think it’s still only thought. No matter how new or exciting a thought might seem, it’s still only that same old E-system! This is of course a very peculiar thing to reflect upon – the whole point of thinking is that the different things we think really are different (just as the whole point of a game is that the different outcomes we obtain within it really are different). If all of our thoughts are actually just the same old equilibrium system ‘in disguise’ then this makes a farce of the whole enterprise of thought.


Another way to come at the idea of the irredeemable ‘deadness’ of the equilibrium system (which is an idea which is intuitively of not rationally obvious) is to look at it in terms of information content. It is very easy to show that all thoughts must have zero information content – all of the products of the system of thought have to have zero information content since they are all produced via the mechanism of self-referentiality. After all, any thought or concept only makes the sense that it does make to us because it corresponds to one or more of our pre-existent mental categories. If we didn’t have the category for it then we couldn’t have the thought! This is as obvious as saying that we couldn’t have a picture on a TV screen if we didn’t have the pixels there to represent it – the pixels are what make up the picture so of course we can’t have a picture without any pixels. When we see a picture on TV we are seeing the pixels without noticing that we are seeing the pixels and in the same way when we become aware of a thought then we are seeing our own mental categories without realizing that we are seeing our own mental categories. What we are being aware of is our own ‘instrumentation’ but we don’t of course focus on this fact. In essence, therefore, we are only seeing what we ourselves put there (we only perceive as being real what we ourselves agree to be real) and this is why our thoughts have zero information content.


This is not to say that the thinking mind is ridiculously defunct however! The physical universe itself consists (to a considerable degree) of equilibrium systems so we need the thinking mind to act as mediator or guide. Inasmuch as the equilibrium system of the rational mind corresponds accurately to the equilibrium systems that exist in the physical universe then it is pretty much indispensable to us! All sorts of E-systems exist in the natural world (the atomic structure is itself an E-system) and this is where the machine of the rational mind comes into its own. Classical Newtonian mechanics is a perfect example of this – movement (or change) in the world around us is both explained and predicted by the logical mind (just so long as that movement/change isn’t chaotic, that is). If the universe were nothing other part from an equilibrium system (as most of the early physicists imagines it was) then the thinking mind would indeed be ‘the measure of all things’. But as we now know E-systems are only the most obvious (and least interesting) part of the story. The universe isn’t an equilibrium system at all – it’s a non-equilibrium system!


The deeper non-equilibrium aspect of the universe is where it’s all at, really. This is the hub that we don’t tend to see – this is where all qualitative change comes from. This is where all the interesting stuff happens, all the unpredictable stuff, the stuff that doesn’t get accounted for by our linear equations. We could actually go so far as to say that the ‘predictable’ stuff that happens doesn’t actually happen at all. Events that have been predicted aren’t really events. If something happens the way we always knew it was going to then how can we say that ‘something has happened’? Only if something hasn’t been prefigured can we say that it has truly happened – only then does it constitute actual ‘information’. This is why we can say that E-systems aren’t interesting – because nothing new ever happens in them! If something did happen in an E-system then it wouldn’t be an E-system at all, it would be a Non-E system…


We could say that the mechanical (or rule-based) aspects of the natural world are embedded in the Non-E world, or that they exist as defined ‘subsets’ of the Non-E world. As James Carse says, finite games can exist within the Infinite Game, but this can’t happen the other way around. The regular can never give rise to the random; the generic can never give rise to the unique. From a psychological perspective this principle is extraordinarily significant. If we can only see with the eyes of the machine which is the rational-conceptual mind, then we will never see beyond what this machine is capable of showing us. The machine’s limitations will then be our limitations. We will never ever see beyond the Equilibrium World that the rational-conceptual  mind shows us – as far as we will be concerned therefore the universe we live in will be a Non-E universe, a closed universe, a universe without the possibility of anything radically new ever happening in it. We will be E-creatures inhabiting an E-world, finite game-players existing within a finite game. Our reality will be circumscribed; our reality will be defined by the crude cogs of the thinking machine. Our reality will have limits, and so it won’t be reality at all!


But if we can remember how to see with ‘the eyes of the spirit’ rather than with the eyes of the rational-conceptual mind then we will see beyond the limits that have been set for us. We will see beyond the digitalized ‘self-image’; we will see beyond the digital hologram which is the material universe. When we start seeing with our own eyes rather than with the mechanical eyes that have been given to us by the rational mind (and by society, which is an offshoot of this mind) then we will see that we live in a universe that doesn’t exist within an sort of framework at all, a universe which doesn’t come in categories, a universe which doesn’t have to be compared to an imaginary template in order for it to make sense. We will see a very strange thing – we will see that we live in a universe which exists far from equilibrium…






The Gift of Anxiety


Anxiety is a very misunderstood kind of a thing. We see it as being a problem, when really it is a teacher! Anxiety is a teacher and it teaches us something very important – it teaches us who we really are!


Straightaway when we hear this there tends to be a problem and that problem is that we almost always think that we already know very well ‘who we are really are’, and so on this account we don’t feel that we need anyone or anything to come along and teach us otherwise. The very idea that we don’t already know who we are comes across as being ridiculous, it comes across as being totally absurd. This however is because we have made a rather big assumption which we’re just not paying any attention to. Somehow, in our culture, it is assumed that ‘knowing who you really are’ is something that comes very easily – as easily as falling off a log in fact. This must be the case since everyone we meet automatically ‘knows who they are’, regardless of how much work they might (or might not) have put into uncovering the mystery. The way we are brought up to see it is that knowing who you are isn’t a difficult thing at all, but simply a formality, the same way we might know our national insurance number or address. It’s not considered a big deal, no matter what the philosophers of olden times might have said to the contrary! Because we believe that knowing our true identity isn’t a big deal (and that everyone automatically knows it, so to speak), the notion that anxiety could have a valuable function in helping us to learn (or perhaps remember) who we are doesn’t really make a hell of a lot of sense to us, and this is putting it mildly!


The thing is that when I think that I know ‘who I am’ all I really know is what I have been told or conditioned to believe about myself and this – very obviously, when we state it like this – isn’t the same thing at all. Knowing ‘who you are supposed to be in a game’ isn’t the same as knowing who you really are – knowing who you are in the game is just a matter of learning a role, it’s trivial. Thinking that you know ‘who you are’ because you believe what you’ve been told isn’t just ‘not quite the same’ as knowing who you really are – it’s the very antithesis of this. Very obviously, believing you are ‘who you’ve been told you are’ prevents you knowing ‘who you really are’…


The reason that anxiety manifests as such an intractable problem to us is because is because we are already so very sure that we know who we are. Or we could say, the reason that anxiety is such an intractable problem is because the lesson that it is teaching us is one that we are extremely resistant to learning. This lesson is the lesson in life we least want to learn; we are – it seems – so very resistant to learning it that we would rather put up with any amount of suffering rather than do so! The more resistant we are to seeing the truth, we might say, the more of an absolute ‘negative’ anxiety will be experienced as being, and it is pretty much undeniable that we experience anxiety as an absolute negative – we experience anxiety when it comes as an out-and-out curse, a curse with no good side to it at all.


So the reason anxiety is such a problem to us is because we really don’t want to know who we are. This is why we suffer so much. It is in fact no exaggeration to say that the thing we are most reluctant to learn in life (and using the word ‘reluctant’ is putting it far too mildly) is who we actually are.


On the face of it this sounds very strange – how could it possibly be the case that the thing we are most resistant to learning is who we are? What kind of a crazy idea is this? This is – admittedly – not the kind of idea that we tend to come across very often (if at all) in mainstream culture. We don’t come across it in the study of psychology either – there are all sorts of models, all sorts of theories that will be covered in a course on the psychology of personality but the theory that our single greatest fear is discovering who we really are is not one that sounds immediately familiar. Actually, it sounds very unfamiliar – so unfamiliar in fact that we would be unlikely to take it very seriously! And yet as an idea it isn’t entirely unheard of – it has a powerful resonance outside of the mainstream theories of psychology. The philosopher Alan Watts has explicitly referred to this curious state of affairs (the state of affairs in which we don’t want to know who we really are) in his book The Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are, the thesis of which is that the Number One (unspoken) social rule is that we should not be allowed to have any clue regarding our true identity and that we should all collude in covering it up as much as we possibly can by taking up some sort of prescribed role. As Alan Watts says –

Our normal sensation of self is a hoax, or, at best, a temporary role that we are playing, or have been conned into playing — with our own tacit consent, just as every hypnotized person is basically willing to be hypnotized. The most strongly enforced of all known taboos is the taboo against knowing who or what you really are behind the mask of your apparently separate, independent, and isolated ego.

The one thing we are never supposed to go into (on pain of total social exclusion) is the question of who we really are under the opaque façade of who we are conventionally supposed to be, who we are told we are, who we habitually understand ourselves to be. It’s not of course that anyone explicitly addresses the issue, or in any way acknowledges that there is or might be an issue, but rather its something that we all just take for granted – that we all are who we think we are, that we all are who we understand each other to be. The very thought that we might not be, the thought that there might be some sort of conspiracy of silence going on here regarding ‘who we really are’ (and what life might really about) sounds totally ridiculous. We’re far too adult, far too hard-headed to tolerate any kind of airy-fairy talk like that. That just sounds plain silly to us.


The thing about a ‘conspiracy of silence’ – if we agree for the time being that there might be such a thing – is that if we all agree to pretend that whatever it is doesn’t exist (or isn’t an issue), and then we also agree to pretend that we didn’t ever make such an agreement. This of course means that if you ever do raise the issue (if you ever do suggest that there might be an issue here worth raising) then people will simply look at you strangely – whoever you’re talking to will look at you with that particular look on their faces that lets you know that there must be something wrong with you for coming out with such strange stuff. You will be made to feel that you are being ridiculous, and on the wider scale of things, you will be excluded from any ‘serious discourse’. So even though Alan Watts wrote the book The Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are the ideas in it never reached the mainstream and never gets mentioned in any course in social psychology. This, after all, is what happens when you try to bring up something that is taboo, something that has already been decided to be ‘not a subject’ or ‘not an issue’. No one takes any notice of what you’re saying.


What we have collectively done – and this is fairly obvious once we get to thinking about it – is to make a very big assumption about ‘who we are’ and about ‘what life is all about’, and then we have rushed ahead without ever looking back. We aren’t interested in questioning the assumptions that we jumped to on the outset, we’re interested in what happens when we proceed on the basis of these assumptions. Looking at the assumption undermines the whole exercise that we are collectively engaged in, and inasmuch as we are all committed to the exercise (which simply equals ‘the type of life that we are all busy leading’) we don’t want to go spoiling the whole thing. And anyone who does want to go back and start looking at the flimsiness of our ‘starting off point’ is going to be very thoroughly excluded from the public discourse. That is the game we are playing after all, and this is how the game works.


Sociologists Berger and Luckman made this key point in their work The Social Construction of Reality – the only way to create any social structure (and the idea of ‘who we are’ and what ‘life is about’ is a social structure) is to pull a few rules or stipulations out of a hat, and then do a kind of a turnaround and say that we didn’t arbitrarily arrive at the rules or stipulations in question, but that they were there all along. We say that the rules are self-evident, that they were always there, or perhaps that God appeared in the form of a burning bush and dictated them to Moses, or something like that. Whatever way we do it we make those rules, those stipulations unquestionable – we make it so that if anyone does question them then it becomes clear to everyone that the problem is with them and not the rules! This is a type of conspiracy – it is a conspiracy of silence regarding the flimsiness of the foundation regarding the collective endeavour that we are all engaged in, the collective story of what it is we are all about, what life is supposed to be, who we are supposed to be, etc. Really what we’re talking about here is game-playing – a game is where we pick a bunch of rules at random and then act as if they weren’t picked at random, as if the rules ‘simply have to be there’ and that is that. We have to pretend that we aren’t free to question the rules or else the game just won’t work. ‘Not questioning the rules’ is what games are all about!


So we can say that the conspiracy of silence that we have been talking about is a necessity if we are to have any social structure to work with, but the only thing here is that the structure in question then takes over and we get stuck in it – upholding the structure becomes more important than anything else, it becomes more important than our mental health, it becomes more important than our happiness. It becomes more important than anything even though it’s only a game, even though it ‘doesn’t really need to be so’! We get so stuck in the game that we lose sight of the only genuinely meaningful quest in life – which as the philosophers and mystics have always said is the quest to know ourselves – and this loss of meaning naturally has very major consequences for us. Being locked into a way of life that is essentially meaningless (as of course all games are, outside their own frame of reference!) and which systematically denies who we really are is – very clearly – not going to be good news for us in the long run!


So looking at Berger and Luckman’s theory of reification and the general theory of games allows us to see how it could be that we don’t know who we really are, even though this might sound like a rather peculiar idea on first hearing. It also gives us a strong indication that there are going to be major ramifications in terms of our mental health, in terms of our ability to be happy and creative; not being in touch with our true selves is – after all – not exactly a recipe for happiness and creativity! We have said that the discovery of what has been covered up (our true selves) is not a trivial kind of thing – it is not like we can read it in a book or get told about it by some highly-trained expert. On the contrary, it is the work of a lifetime – and no one else can help us if. If they do try to help us, that will only lead us astray. There are no easy answers when it comes to discovering what the truth of our situation is – easy answers are only to be had in games, where everything is standardized, where everything has to be what it is designated to be by the rules of the game…


The thing that is being ‘covered up’ by the game has to be covered up for the game to proceed, and yet the other side of the coin is that from our point of view – as the actual individuals we are rather than the mere players of the game – what is being obscured is actually the only thing that truly matters in life! The journey by which we discover our true individuality is a ‘path with a heart’, as Castaneda puts it. It’s the only genuinely interesting pursuit in life – everything else is just a diversion, everything else is just a red-herring! In our culture, however, no time at all is given over to this endeavour, and instead all sorts of other tasks and duties and ‘responsibilities’ are pushed upon us, to the point where anything else gets quite buried. This is not to say that there isn’t a practical side to life that needs to be attended to – there obviously is – but no matter how important the practical aspects of life are if these ‘practical necessities’ (or ‘responsibilities’) are used as a way of stopping us ever reflecting on what this thing we call ‘life’ is all about, then something has clearly gone very wrong. And this is precisely what has happened – it is hard to imagine how anyone could deny it! First of all there are the things we have to do in life in order to attend to our material needs and then there are the things we do to entertain ourselves when we aren’t working, or when we aren’t attending to the practicalities of life, but between ‘work’ and ‘leisure’ there simply isn’t any space for anything else. When we’re not busy doing what we have to do in order to survive we’re busy entertaining ourselves – we’re watching television, or shopping, or going out drinking. This is the prescribed regime. That’s what modern life is like.


Jung makes the point somewhere that whilst in India there exists a tradition in which one can leave behind the life of a householder in one’s later years and turn to a life of reflection and contemplation, there is no corresponding tradition in the West. On the contrary, once we are past the ‘productive’ years of our lives (or the years in which we are still young and good-looking) we are no longer considered to have much to do in life. We hear talk of the ‘golden years’ that are to follow retirement but this is merely marketing speak designed to sell us pensions and life-assurance policies. In reality, no value is given to the second half of life because underneath all our fine talk we don’t understand life to consist of anything other than purely ‘surface-level’ matters – we have no comprehension of any psychic process, any movement in the ‘inner life’ that is the deeper meaning of our lives in this world. We only believe in externals, in ‘the image’, which is the important thing in the first half of life. No matter what we might say, as a society we don’t place any value in the inner life at all. The term itself is all but meaningless to us. Our so-called ‘inner life’ is simply the generic outer life that we have internalized, the external script or picture that we have unreflectively gone along with.


There is of course a good deal of lip-service paid to ‘self-development’, to this sort of therapy or that sort of therapy, this sort of healing or that sort of healing, but almost always this comes down to fixing the socially-prescribed image that we have of ourselves – almost all of it comes down to what Alan Watts calls ‘social adjustment therapy’. We go off the rails, one way or another, and the expert clinicians are there simply to help us to get back on them again! In Psychotherapy East and West Watts writes,

Whenever the therapist stands with society, he will interpret his work as adjusting the individual and coaxing his ‘unconscious drives’ into social respectability. But such ‘official psychotherapy’ lacks integrity and becomes the obedient tool of armies, bureaucracies, churches, corporations, and all agencies that require individual brainwashing. On the other hand, the therapist who is really interested in helping the individual is forced into social criticism. This does not mean that he has to engage directly in political revolution; it means that he has to help the individual in liberating himself from various forms of social conditioning, which includes liberation from hating this conditioning — hatred being a form of bondage to its object.

According to Alan Watts, a lot of our mental ‘un-wellness’ comes from the inherent contradictions of having to adapt to a system, to a way of life that restricts or denies our true individuality, and forces us to become regulated and mechanical. Simply patching us up and sending us back out onto the front-line again hardly qualifies as ‘therapy’! In Health as Expanding Consciousness, Professor of Nursing Margaret Newman speaks of ‘linear interventionism’, which is where we – as doctors or therapists – attempt return people to where they were before they became unwell. In the case of physical illness we can see that there is a lot of sense in this – if I break a leg I want to go back to being able to go walking and running again; if I get appendicitis or malaria, I want to recover so that I can go back to living my life again, and so on. But even in physical medicine there is the question of considering what elements in or aspects of my life-style predisposed me to becoming unwell in whatever way that I did, which means that healing is not just a matter of ‘us getting better so we can go back to what we were doing before we became unwell’! This may not be the case with a broken leg, or with some infectious disease, but with all of the endemic ‘life-style’ diseases that we are suffering from (such as heart-disease or diabetes) ‘going back to the way we were before we got sick’ is clearly not the answer at all. But with neurosis the idea that we can be patched up and ‘stuck back in the trenches’ is itself clearly pathological. This is the type of thinking that leads to entrenched neurotic mental suffering – the type of thinking in question being where we can’t let go of a fixed pattern of doing things even though that fixed pattern is doing us harm…


It’s not simply the case that we are stuck in one particular pattern that happens to be dysfunctional and that if we switched to a different pattern we would be a lot better off – neurosis is an automatic consequence of holding onto any sort of pattern! As far as mental health is concerned, there is no such thing as good pattern, there is no such thing as a good system. Mental health is synonymous with having the personal courage to let go of all patterns, to let go of all precedents, and this is the one thing that society (which is itself a fixed pattern of thinking and behaving) will never support us in doing. The rules of the game do not have any provision in them to encourage us to not play the game – the rules of society are never going to encourage us not to take them as seriously as they are asking us to! Society is a system that (like all systems) is made up of unquestionable precedents and this means that the one thing it is never going to do is play fast and loose with these precedents. That’s just not how things work, as we could very easily understand if only we could see that all logical systems necessarily have to repress the individuality (i.e. the ‘irregularity’) of the elements that comprise them.

So if we define mental health as fitting in with the world-view of everyone playing the game called ‘society’ we can see that linear interventionism makes a lot of sense. It is the ‘only way to go’ if this is how we understand mental health. This way of defining mental health is however really just a way of approving of our own arbitrary way of doing things – I have a certain set of prejudices about ‘how things should be’ and so then naturally I will go ahead and define good mental health as ‘subscribing to these prejudices’! I am making my way, my pattern, my system into the standard by which all things should be measured. This is clearly a cheat though because no matter what set of biases I start off with I’m going to promote this as being ‘the mentally healthy way to look at the world’. Really, therefore, I am abusing the word ‘health’ because health no longer means anything apart from what I want it to mean. It simply means conformity to the pattern to which I happen to subscribe. It is like me telling you that you are ‘sane’ if you happen to agree with what I say, or if you happen to believe what I believe, and that you are ‘mentally unwell’ (or insane) if you don’t. This way of defining mental health is clearly quite nonsensical, as well as being distinctly sinister into the bargain…

In Finite and Infinite Games James Carse differentiates between ‘society’ and what he calls ‘culture’ –

It is a highly valued function of society to prevent changes in the rules of the many games it embraces… Deviancy, however, is the very essence of culture. Whoever merely follows the script, merely repeating the past, is culturally impoverished. There are variations in the quality of deviation; not all divergence from the past is culturally significant. Any attempt to vary from the past in such a way as to cut the past off, causing it to be forgotten, has little cultural importance. Greater significance attaches to those variations that bring the tradition into view in a new way, allowing the familiar to be seen as unfamiliar, as requiring a new appraisal of all that we have been- and therefore all that we are. Cultural deviation does not return us to the past, but continues what was begun but not finished in the past…

To say that deviance is the very essence of culture is no different from saying that ‘deviance is the very essence of individuality’, and so we can rephrase what James Carse says above and say that ‘whoever merely follows the script, merely repeating the past has lost all awareness of who they truly are.’ When we follow the script, and substitute the collectively-validated ‘external life’ that we have been provided with for our inner life (without us either seeing that this substitution has taken place, or understanding what that means to us) then the unique individual self has been replaced by the generic self, which is a self made up of nothing more than theatrical appearances. The generic self doesn’t have any actual content – it can’t have any actual content because it’s ‘an externality’, because it’s a theatrical performance and nothing more. The outer life is of course made up of externalities – that’s why we are calling it the ‘external life’! The inner life, on the other hand, has no defined features or aspects that we can talk about, or readily discuss in a public forum, but instead of having generically recognizable features that can easily be talked about it is full of actual content. Hence, Carl Jung says –

Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.

When we dream, and live the external socially-validated life only, then what we gain in theatrical definition we lose in genuine content and saying that we ‘lose the content’ is just another way of saying that we lose the connection with who we truly are. What bigger thing could there be to lose than this? We worry about losing all sorts of unimportant, trivial things, but we never seem to worry about losing the biggest thing of all, which is losing our awareness of who we actually are. When we lose this we lose the heart, the core of who we are and as a result of this essential ‘hollowness’ we become slaves to this desire and that desire, this belief-structure and that belief-structure, all of which have the hold on us that they do because they promise to give us what deep-down we know we are missing. They promise to return to us our Wholeness, which we do not consciously see that we are missing.


Society itself is a belief structure that we cling to because it promises to remedy our inner deficit, and provide us – if we play the game well enough – with the much-sought-after social validation (often called success) which is the external substitute (or analogue) for ‘being who we truly are’. This is ironic because society is motivating us with the promise of remedying the painful inner deficit which it itself has engendered in us! It’s both the ‘cause’ of the sickness and the ‘cure’ at the same time, which is something that really ought to tip us off as to what is really going on here…


When we lose the core of who we are and have to go ahead on the basis of what Wei Wu Wei calls the self-concept and what Krishnamurti calls the self-image then we are at a disadvantage, even though we cannot directly see or understand what this disadvantage is. We’ve been ‘wrong-footed’ right from the start. We can talk about this disadvantage (or wrong-footedness’) in terms of loss of essential being – we have lost our essential being and have to make do instead with the theatrical ‘substitute for being’ – which is image or appearance. Some of the time we can get on like this just fine – if we believe the image to be the thing then we don’t see any problem. If we take the theatrical performance of the self-image to be the same thing as ‘who we genuinely are’ (as we almost always do) then we won’t necessarily feel ourselves to be ‘at a disadvantage’. But as we get removed further and further away from any connection with our true nature – from the well-spring of our being – we’re getting stretched thinner and thinner all the time. We’re getting into a sticky situation without being able to see that we are getting into a sticky situation.


As we ‘forget ourselves’ and caught up more and more with a false notion of who we are we end up in a very peculiar – if unappreciated – predicament. The predicament is that we have become ‘unreal without knowing that we are unreal’ and this is akin to having suffered a very serious accident without knowing that we have done so. We have suffered the most serious ‘accident’ of all, and yet we carry on blithely as if nothing had happened, getting caught up in one trivial issue after another. We’ve lost something without which we can’t really continue, and yet we haven’t worked this out for ourselves yet…
And yet there is a way in which this lost understanding can come to us, albeit a way that we cannot readily understand. We cannot see what has happened directly, in a straightforward way, but we can see it in an ‘upside-down way’, so to speak. When being is lost, then we don’t experience this loss of being, but we do experience the neurotic suffering that comes with it – all we need to do therefore is understand this neurotic suffering for what it truly is.


This isn’t actually a question of ‘doing’ – there’s nothing we can ‘do’ to purposefully regain our lost being. It is after all our unconscious attempt to regain our lost being (through all our surrogate purposeful activities) that keeps us trapped in our deficit condition. We just need to be aware of our loss of being, rather than automatically trying to correct it, rather than automatically trying to make it better. When we automatically try to ‘make it better’ all we’re doing is avoiding the awareness. The challenge isn’t to strive to become ‘more confident in ourselves’ (which everyone invariably says it is) – the challenge is to clearly see our lack of confidence and understand its root. The challenge is to fearlessly observe the reality of our situation. If we do somehow manage to become confident again (just like we used to be) all this would mean would be that we have managed to go back to sleep again, immerse ourselves in the dream again. The challenge isn’t to ‘go back to how we were before we became anxious’; the challenge isn’t to ‘go back to sleep’ – the challenge is to wake up!