Skip to main content

Am I Satisfied With Myself?

In an episode of Parts Unknown, Anthony Bourdain asks a group of young women about their hopes and dreams.  One of them begins to answer by saying, "I want to be satisfied with myself."

Am I satisfied with myself?  I'm not sure I know what that means.  I'm thinking about it literally.  If I am in a position to evaluate myself, then whatever of me is doing the evaluating could also be evaluated.  If I decide that I am dissatisfied with myself, then I could also be dissatisfied with being dissatisfied and decide upon reevaluation that I am satisfied after all.  Perhaps I might be dissatisfied with my inability to evaluate myself as satisfactory.  What part of me evaluates me but is not identical to the part that is being evaluated?

The idea falls apart.  I overthink it because I don't understand it.  It becomes too heavy and collapses.  I am bad at understanding this kind of language.  I don't know what myself definitely is.  I don't have impressive experiences of self.  Other people are mysteries to me too.  How do they experience self evaluation?  I don't know how they think about themselves or others.  That piece doesn't fit in my puzzle.

I am of course capable of reflecting on my actions.  I can practice and learn and recognize patterns.  But I don't evaluate myself the way I might evaluate an object or a situation.  There are many objects and situations, but I am all that I have to work with.  I don't know what there is to be satisfied or dissatisfied about.  My evaluations emerge from me and I constitute myself.  Basically I don't understand.  I think about it and become confused.

"Be true to yourself" is another thing one might hear.  I don't know what this means either.  I have trouble with it.  Is it meant to be figurative?  I think it probably means something more than "Be honest about what you're doing" or "Don't lie about your identity."  But I'm not sure.  I can't imagine a situation in which I would  be at odds with myself.  Furthermore, I'm not certain it is so useful as to be crucial that I work to remain a clear and distinct entity.  That seems to happen on its own.

I am capable of self assessment.  I can consider how I feel.  And I can talk about my intentions and behavior.  I don't hurt people deliberately.  Instead I want to help.  I'm not at all concerned with how others conduct their lives.  I think that I am probably a good person.  But that doesn't feel like exactly what people mean when they say that they hope to be satisfied with themselves.  Or maybe it is.  I genuinely don't know.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Man Is Not Great: The Evolution of Anthropocentrism

Why do humans care whether their species is special? Why are they so invested in their specialness that they're uncomfortable with the idea that they aren't? Why is it a bitter pill to swallow that humans aren't uniquely important in the universe, that they aren't the intended end of evolution, and that their wondrous and diverse subjective experiences emerge from the same physical processes observable in "lower" animals? I think that the maladaptive human tendency to insist upon their specialness in the universe is an extension of an adaptive tendency to self-advocate in their tribes. Consider fear. The predisposition to turn around when you feel like something might be behind you is likely to save you when there really is something there. Most of the time, when you can't help but turn around on the dark basement steps, there's no threat. From an evolutionary perspective, it’s better to turn unnecessarily than to do nothing in a moment of danger. That...

The Mystery of Friendship

Friendship looks good on paper.  People appear to enjoy their friendships and to want, or at least to expect, to have friends.  I don't have this experience.  I don't want friends. It took me a long time to understand that I have no desire for friendship.  As a child I thought I had to seek friendships because everyone around me wanted them.  It was part of trying to pass; I know that now but I didn't then.  I wasn't aware that other people didn't have to try to be like each other.  How could I have been?  I had no basis for comparison besides myself so I assumed everyone was like me.  I thought I was neurotypical and this was conducive to my feelings of inferiority.  I didn't know why I was so bad at being like everyone else.  It was because they were being themselves and I wasn't.  But I wouldn't realize that until long after my formative years were over. I was a very confused child.  I had few friendships and I wasn...

George Versus Lennie

People seem to believe that you can't have cognitive deficits if you don't seem stupid. The image many carry in their minds of a person with cognitive problems is an image of someone whose internal dysfunction necessarily finds clear outward manifestation in unusual physical proportions, motor skills, vocal quality, and speech patterns. Less objectively, it's an image of a cartoon idiot: Lennie from Of Mice and Men as depicted in Looney Tun es .  This is a suboptimal situation.  My autism involves some cognitive impairment. Because I'm intelligent and articulate, even paraprofessionals have trouble remembering or, in fact, believing that I'm not as able to apply my intellect as ordinary people are. I'm smart, I'm not Lennie, but I'm not George either. The dichotomy between those characters is the only way many people can understand the difference between neurotypical people and people with cognitive or neurodevelopmental disabilities. If I'm n...