I and My Identity

I and my identity: the “Identity” version of the An-Atta teaching

Another essay Two Versions of the An-Atta Teaching will explain the fundamental difference between two different versions of the An-Atta teaching. The most well-known version is a metaphysical doctrine denying the existence of a “self” as human subject. This doctrine does not appear in a very clear, explicit, and unambiguous form in the Pali suttas, and I argue has no relevance to the practice of early Buddhist transformative spirituality. The other version has nothing to do with the existence/non-existence of anything. It is a warning against becoming Attached to any particular identity dependent on Impermanent conditions in the world.  The present essay focuses on this latter “identity” version of the an-atta teaching, which I think adds a great deal of depth to the core concepts of early Buddhist spirituality

The urge to find something to represent oneself out there in the world.

In these essays I argue that being a bare “I”-as-subject is a minimum requirement for human normalcy.  Being an “I” is something I am and cannot not be, without becoming a non-person.

But now I want to observe that no one is satisfied with being a bare “I,” just any “I.”  I feel insecure in the world unless I have something to show for myself, something else besides merely being the bare “I” that everyone is and that everyone has in common.  In this context, the world out there seems to represent everything real and important.  Just as the Velveteen Rabbit could not feel really real until it found a child to love it, I feel insecure about myself, not quite real and substantial, unless I can locate myself somewhere in the world perceived to be out there, find something that represents me in this world.

I could place myself in the world, as Kisa Gotami did, as a “parent of a child.”  I could also place myself out there as “a person with a beautiful face,” “a wealthy person,” “a great athlete,” “a well-respected person among my neighbors,” “an always-calm person” and so on.  This gives another dimension to tanha, as the compulsion to reach out to find sources of validation in the world out there.

Often this takes the form of a need to “prove oneself,” by having “something to show for myself.”  Sometimes this takes the form of competition for social status.  My need for confirmation takes the form of a need to have some attributes or achievements that make me stand out above others in the eyes of the general public.  But at least I want to have some attributes that make me “someone special” in my own eyes.

This is one important facet of the Buddhist “revelation,” a revelation of a painful contradiction seemingly built in to the human condition.  On the one hand, I feel driven to find an identity for myself, defined in relation to something in the real world out there.  I feel insecure, insubstantial, not solid, if I cannot place myself somewhere in the world that gives me a sense of solidity that I lack when unconnected to something in the world.

On the other hand, I also find myself living in a world that only appears solid.  It is actually a world of illusory solidity because the entire world that I face consists after all in a collection of things, events, and conditions that are Impermanent and ever-changing.  Every time I try to gain a sense of solidity by identifying myself with something out there in the world, I make myself vulnerable to having that apparently solid and meaningful identity completely and painfully undermined by changing conditions in the world.

Flexible identities.

Ridding oneself of Attachment to some particular identity does not mean never having any identity.  Every concrete person always exists with some characteristics, relating to the world in some particular way, playing some particular role in the world.  Achieving the ability to “regard everything in the world-perceived as an-atta” would in practice result in an indefinite flexibility to switch from one identity to another.  If circumstances change to make it impossible for a star athlete to maintain this status, the person could easily and flexibly adapt, and be the best self she could be in new circumstances thrust upon her.  No changing circumstances would ever be a deep threat, all circumstances would present new opportunities to play new roles, and play them well.

This assumes that the possibility of taking on an indefinite number of different identities, playing an indefinite number of different roles in the world, is something inherent in the being of human beings.  From this perspective, Clinging inflexibly to some particular identity represents a kind of self-limiting, a shrinking of otherwise potentially unlimited possibilities.  From this perspective also, the “revelation” negatively expressed in the Buddhist “not-self” teaching could be positively expressed as release from this self-limitation, a fuller realization of the expansive capacities that Buddhism says are inherent in the being of all human beings, but normally hidden and unrecognized.

An “objective double” that mirrors me back to myself.

Another concept helpful in elaborating on the concept of personal identity is one based on a particular sutta passage (SN 22:[105]; Kindle 17212) involving a woman “youthful and fond of ornaments” looking at her face in mirror.  The sutta says she is looking in the mirror “with Clinging, not without Clinging.” Then the sutta comments, “this is how ‘I am’ occurs.”

What I want to point out is that “seeing myself in a mirror” is a paradigm case of self-object-ification:  Here is “me” an aware human subject, seeing a face that is an object-of-awareness for me, which mirrors me back to myself, enabling me-as-aware-subject to see “myself” as an object-of-awareness, belonging to the world perceived.

When I look in the mirror, what I see is “myself” in a trivial sense, that I see myself rather than my cat or my sister.  But in the Buddhist context, the question is whether what I see in the mirror is “myself” in a more pregnant sense.  Does the face I see in the mirror satisfy the desire described above, the desire to find something to represent me in the world, something which will provide me with a source of self-esteem and meaning in life that I feel lacking if I have nothing in the world to represent me? 

The sutta passage referred to above suggests that the young woman looking in the mirror found fulfillment of this desire in the beautiful face she saw in the mirror.  This explains why it says that she looked at the face in the mirror “with Clinging, not without Clinging.”  “I am” in this case would be a self-assertive “I am”, asserting that I am a presence in the world deserving attention, recognition, admiration.

“Objective double” seems an apt phrase to describe this phenomenon.  I-as-aware-subject have difficulty maintaining a sense of self-esteem unless I can locate myself somewhere out there in the world perceived, find something that will be a “double” of me as perceiving-subject in the world of objects-perceived.

These ideas may be suggested by the Pali terms atta and an-atta themselves.  That is (as Steven Collins explains, p. 71-72), grammatically speaking atta normally functions in Pali as a reflexive pronoun for all genders and numbers, standing in the object position in a sentence, as in “I saw myself in the mirror,” or “she hurt herself climbing the fence,” and so on.  It is in this sense that “regarding some X as atta” can be seen as a way of saying that X is an “object-ification” of me-as-subject.  Conversely to say that X is not-atta is to distance this X from me-as-subject.  It is to say that nothing that happens to this X-object-of-awareness in the world has anything essential to do with me.

“Appropriating,” and the illusion of inseparability.

Bikkhu Bodhi (2015, p. 22) suggests another way of conceptualizing the phenomena involved here.  He describes this as two modes in which Clinging to something can manifest itself, “identification with” something, or “appropriating” something.  Whereas “identifying with” some sensory object can be pictured as self-object-ifying or self-externalizing, the term “appropriating” suggests “taking into myself.”  It suggests not “externalizing” myself in terms of some X, but “introjecting” some X into my own being.  “Appropriating” or “introjecting” is a different metaphor useful in describing the same phenomenon.  In this case, the an-atta teaching can also be described in terms of an “emotional illusion of inseparability.”

Suppose for example I “regard ‘being a parent” as atta/”myself.”  This means that I have tried to “introject” being-a-parent.  I have tried to bring being-a-parent into my very being.  It means coming to feel that being-a-parent is so essential to who-I-am, that “I” and being-a-parent are inseparable.  To feel that “I” and being-a-parent are inseparable is to feel that “I” will never be forced to exist without being a parent.

But one can easily see how illusory this is, if it is true that there might be occasions in which my children die or reject me, and I am forced to exist no longer able to function as a parent.  This is the practical import of the Buddhist doctrine that being a parent, like any other relational identity, is Impermanent.

The important fact here about the Impermanence of being-a-parent is not only that being a parent is Impermanent, something that might not last throughout my lifetime.  The important thing is that, if I “appropriate” being-a-parent, introject this relational identity into my sense of who-I-am, this bond I feel with being-a-parent is Impermanent. 

This deep bond I feel can be described then as a kind of Attachment to being-a-parent, motivated by insecurity-driven Craving, so that when this bond with being-a-parent is broken and I am forced to exist unable to function as a parent, this can cause me deep Distress (dukkha).  I can feel that my very being is being ripped apart.

Pertinent here is a sutta passage (SN 22:[112]; Kindle 17312) which likens a person who “appropriates” some particular object(s)-perceived to a person who endangers her life by inviting “murderers” into her house.

Buddhist teaching applies all these ideas equally to everything I can perceive or be aware of about my own mental/emotional being.  They can apply, for example, to a feeling of calmness or general feeling of happiness and well-being that I might achieve through meditation.

But also it seems true that everyone probably has what might be called a particular “sense-of-self” that might be difficult to define exactly, but which is assumed when someone wakes up in the morning and says “I’m not myself today.”  “I’m not myself today,” assumes that this individual has a subtle but more or less constant perception of her own being, which on most occasions passes unnoticed and taken-for-granted in the background, but becomes noticed when it is absent, replaced by some other sense-of-self which feels very different, and makes a person feel uncomfortable “not myself today.”

It is important to realize that such a “sense-of-self,” if it is something I can be aware of, counts in Buddhist teaching as something perceivable–specifically, a dhamma, or “mind-object” that a person can be introspectively aware of through the inner sense, mano.  Like everything in the world, it is Impermanent, illustrated in the above case by an uncomfortable change in a given person’s sense of self.

To return again to the idea of “appropriation” discussed above, it could be that I have so appropriated or “introjected” the role of being-a-parent, or some particular sense-of-self, that I have come to feel these as so bonded to “me,” that they are part of my very being, leading to an emotional expectation that being a parent, or having some particular sense-of-self, is something so much a part of me that I will never be forced to exist without them.  This can be called “the emotional illusion of inseparability.” 

Seen in this way, these examples serve as further illustrations of what it might mean to “regard some Impermanent X as atta”– essential-to-me–and how all this is connected to the basic core Buddhist teachings regarding Clinging, Impermanence, and dukkha.  The strong bond I might form with being-a-parent, or with some particular sense-of-self, is a form of Clinging to the Impermanent objects-perceived involved–whose Impermanence means that Clinging to them makes me vulnerable to dukkha when I am forced to exist without them.

It is important to note that all these ideas, especially when applied to the bond I feel with some particular subtle sense-of-self, are only possible if we make a distinction between I-as-aware-subject, on the one hand, and some “sense-of-self” that I might be aware of, and regard and Cling to as an essential part of “me.”  Although I-as-aware-subject might come to regard something I can be aware of about myself as so intimately bound to my being that it is inseparable from “me,” Buddhist teaching depends on the fact that anything I can be aware about myself–everything “perceivable” about myself–is in principle separable from “me.”

This in turn makes sense only if we carefully define “me” here in the way defined in Nibbana as “Escape from the Mind” as a perceiving subject which never itself appears among objects-perceived by this subject–a subject therefore distinct from any “sense-of-self” as something which a given human subject might be aware of about her own being.

This latter concept of subject without any particular sense-of-self is of course an abstraction.  At any given time, every particular human subject probably exists with some particular sense of self, some things this subject is aware of about herself.  This would be true of a completely Enlightened Buddhist as well. It’s just that Buddhist teachings assume that all particular objects of self-awareness, like all objects-of-awareness, are in principle Impermanent and separable from me-as-subject.  This separability in principle between “me” and all possible things I can be aware of about myself, is required in order that it be possible for “me” to suffer Distress from changes in something I can perceive about my own being. 

Being Enlightened, on the other hand, would not mean being an “I” actually existing without being aware of anything about my own being.  It would mean being able to be comfortable no matter what “sense of self” I might have any given time.

Clinging to a particular persona or self-image.

So far I have tried to elaborate on the meaning of the an-atta teaching by means of a number of different abstract descriptions illustrating different facets of this teaching.  I would now like to elaborate further by means of a number of more concrete examples.

One further explanation can be given in terms of the concept of a persona, made popular in the writings of psychotherapist Karl Jung.  Persona was a term applied in the ancient world to masks that actors often wore, giving visual representation to some character a given actor is supposed to be portraying.  “Persona” is thus the “face” that I project to others, a face that represents me to the world.  And again, most people want to project a face that they can be proud of, that will attract recognition and admiring attention from others.

“Self-image” is another concept closely related to persona.  For example, I might Cling to a self-image as “a competent person.”  This might mean that, when I am going on a trip, I have a stake in asserting that the route I have chosen is the best route, better than others who disagree with me.  I feel such disagreements as an attack on my self-image as a competent person.

But Buddhism has to do, not only with the face I present to others, but with even with any private self-image I might have.  That is, if I receive no attention and respect from other people, I might be tempted to form a self-image that at least I in my own private world can find admirable. 

The problem with this concerns again the universality of Impermanence, the extension of Impermanence to include absolutely everything I can be aware of, externally or internally, and regard as inseparable from “me.”  For example, I can become Attached to a self-image as “an always-calm person,” or “an always happy person,” and these too might become important sources of self-esteem.  No matter how private or how internal my sources of self-esteem might be, it is always possible that changes in my internal life might compel me to continue to exist in a state separated from these inner sources of validation.

A sense of entitlement.

“Entitlement” is another concept helpful in this regard.  A person with a strong sense of entitlement goes through the world with a sense of being entitled to a relatively high level of respectful treatment by others and by the world in general.  Not only am I deserving of respect from others, I need to actually get this respect, because it serves as an essential validation of my sense of self worth.

Failure to get this respect–being “dissed” (disrespected) in modern jargon–is felt then as an attack on “me,” often provoking angry response.  An insecure person is more inclined then to “take things personally,” to perceive the actions of others from the perspective of someone in constant need of approving recognition and respect of others.

One very common manifestation of this today concerns driving in a car.  When I am driving to a particular destination, this becomes “my trip,” and I take any interference with my trip as a personal affront, a failure by the world to accord my and my goals the respect I and they deserve.  This extends to mild anger at being stuck in traffic, to so-called “road-rage” that sometimes results in violent attacks on others who get in the way of a person with a strong sense of entitlement. 

This extends also to such impersonal factors as the weather, as it when it rains on my birthday or wedding day.  Then thoughts occur like, “This shouldn’t be happening to me,” “I don’t deserve this,” “I deserve better treatment than this.”

At the most general level, a sense of entitlement causes a person to become identified simply with any project or goal this person has decided “this is what I want.”  Then the person becomes Attached to “getting my way,” and regards any interference with getting-my-way as a personal affront.  This is one instance of what might be described in Buddhist terms as “regarding ‘my-way’ as atta”–anything that I have decided to regard as “my way” represents “me” in the world, so any interference with “my way” is a personal attack on me. 

A “self-referential” attitude.

An insecure and self-conscious person goes through life with a “self-referential” attitude.  “Self-referential” means that I see everything, and measure everything I see, from the point of view of its relation to things I need as confirmation of my own sense of self-worth and meaning in life.  When someone else is promoted and gets a raise, but I do not, I cannot celebrate this person’s good fortune, because my thoughts go to “Why her and not me?”.  When Kisa Gotami’s son died, her grief was not just the normal grief of a parent losing a child.  The fact that she had become so dependent on the status that being mother-of-a-son gave her, made her experience his death in a very self-referential way, and grieve not only for her son, but more importantly for herself and her loss of status.

In this context, the self-contained self-confidence that is part of the Buddhist ideal would allow an individual to relate to others with a less self-referential attitude.  We have no good English word to describe the opposite of this.  “Other-centered” might do if properly understood.  This ideal would also involved increased empathy, the ability and habit of being able to put oneself in another’s shoes, imagining how this other person is experiencing life at the moment, undistracted by self-referential preoccupations about what their present situation in life means for me.

Taking things personally.

It seems built in to normal human nature that I tend to regard my material possessions as extensions of “me.”  If someone wrecks my car or my audio system, or breaks into my house, I again take this personally as an attack on “me,” a failure to accord me the respect I deserve.

Another good example here is fear of speaking in groups, motivated as it often is by a feeling that my ideas represent “me,” to this group.  This is also often the cause of heated arguments, driven by a need to have my ideas respected because they are “my” ideas, independent of any intrinsic worth they might have in themselves.  Disrespect toward my ideas is disrespect for “me.” Progress in the ability to “regard my ideas as an-atta ‘not-me’,” would ideally diminish such feelings, and make a person less prone to “taking it personally” when her ideas are met with rejection or derision.

This often applies to other people, my spouse, my children, my relatives, my church, my nation, or even a sports team that I regard as “my team.”  I regard any criticism of these as disrespect to “me.” 

Parents often have a big stake in the success of their children, because the way a child turns out is felt as a reflection on a parent’s own sense of self.   A successful and well-respected child is a source of added self-esteem on the part of a parent, which also of course makes their sense of self-worth vulnerable to being deeply undermined if the child turns out a social failure.

A good Buddhist parent would still feel and cultivate closeness to her children, and do all she can to promote their welfare as they grow up.  She would just do this because it is good in itself, not because she needs it to protect herself from a sense of worthlessness or lack of meaning in her life.  Thus a parent well-along in the Buddhist path would not experience the “empty-nest syndrome,” feeling useless after her children leave home, because her identity has become so essentially connected to “being a parent.”

Playing a particular role.

A final way of stating the Buddhist ideal relevant here is to describe it in terms of possible attachment to “playing a role” in the world.  Kisa Gotami became attached to playing the role of “mother of a son.”  Other people become attached to playing a particular role connected to a job or career, such as playing the role of “teacher,” “writer,” “doctor,” “CEO of a company,” “musician,” “football player,” etc.

“Taking care of others” is also a role that a person can come to “regard as atta,” “essential to my identity,” so as to find it difficult to adjust to the role of a patient in need of care from others.

A good Buddhist, detached from any particular role, would be able to adapt to any change in life-circumstances, and play any role appropriate to the new circumstances.