Bop Lic Blog

The notion that you grow out of being a child is a misunderstanding. A healthy individual does not “grow out of” their childhood, but instead everything that comes after childhood is an addition to themself that they must integrate as one. One collectively adds onto themself, rather than changing throughout the years.

“Change” is natural, but the change we go through is misunderstood. What one might define as change is our constant attempt to integrate all of ourselves. As time passes, we have a lot to integrate and balance. Healthy growth is balancing and merging the 5 year old, the 21 year old, and the 40 year old versions of one into a single being. This is often hard, and requires lots of work.

A lot of times it is easier to repress your past. Integrating your past and your childhood also means accepting the parts that we attempt to repress. An unhealthy individual fails to integrate, and instead represses their past. People with trauma naturally and reasonably repress their past. However, that child within them still exists, and that child hurts.

No matter how much running one does, there is no health without turning toward that inner child, listening to them, and allow them to walk with you everyday. It’s hard work, but it needs to be done.

Written in my notes app on my Uber home from work. I know it sounds simple, but being friends with my inner child is the coolest thing ever.

Whether you believe in a higher power, cosmic randomness, or something in between, there’s a collective understanding that we did not choose our bodies under our own volition. None of us chose our race, culture, or birthplace. Despite this, people often derive their sense of community and identity from these (dare I say) superficial, chance variables. Belonging in “assigned” communities, such as culture, can be comforting, but that comfort can come at the expense of self-actualization. It’s still valuable to find community in what we were given, but it is even richer to find community in what we create.

Coming from a rich multicultural background, I understand the significance of cultural belonging and do not mean to minimize it. It feels good to be surrounded by those who eat the same foods, speak the same languages, and have similar physical characteristics. It’s the easiest path to identity and community, but it often comes at the expense of agency and individuality.

Collective cultural identity often arises from people searching for connection through what is most accessible: the visible. At a young age, this makes sense, but as we age, we drastically expand our capacity and desire for meaning. We are capable of creating meaning far beyond that of flesh and blood. We can form deeper community built on shared passions and values.

There are two main problems with over-reliance on inherited identity for belonging: First, it limits our growth as individuals. If we surround ourselves only with people who look or sound like us, we risk falling victim to groupthink. Carrying others’ beliefs as your own is like hosting a parasite that slowly erodes your spirit until all that remains is a walking husk of a human. The second problem is that it reinforces division. When comfort depends on physical similarity, it is only natural for discomfort to arise around those who differ. Systems of control have derived their power from the simple strategy of divide and conquer for ages.

I find it fascinating that forced segregation and identity-based collectivism can function as two sides of the same coin. Both lead people to seek belonging among those who share race. The difference lies only in the motivator. Segregation is fear-based, whereas identity-based collectivism sustains division through promoting comfort.

Consider how a school counselor might tell a freshman in college to join a cultural club when they struggle to fit in. Although there is good intent behind this advice, it can be confining to their development. It’s similar to treating symptoms versus treating the root of the problem, but it is something we like to do in America: “Oh, you’re having trouble assimilating into a system that’s fueled by slowly grinding your soul into dust? Why don’t you go stand in a room of full people whose shit smells the same as yours for once a week. How does that sound? ” Ha. I embellish, but the point stands.

I say none of this to say cultural pride or belonging is wrong. There is beauty in shared heritage, but I must ask: Are we finding true community, or simply the easiest one to access?

I believe true community is founded upon shared curiosity, love, and perspectives; Spaces we enter by choice. There’s power in people who differ uniting on common ground. That kind of community is built, and I think that’s beautiful.

So many rules and labels exist to ease our minds. We build and believe in systems and categories to comfort us amidst the uncertainty in this world. Yet when you look just past the surface, we find that so many of them are arbitrary, even borderline nonsensical.

We search for answers in life. The fewer we have, the more we search. The more we search, the more we are cursed attempting to find answers in an individualized experience that is inherently subjective. There are always multiple truths, but that creates dissonance… So we construct meaning, even if it is artificial. Rules and labels are often built from our innate need to have answers. We grasp at any sliver of agency in a world where our will is subject to powers far greater than ours.

Let us consider the example of age. The day before someone’s 18th birthday, they are a minor. The next day, they are an adult. Engaging in sexual relations with them a day before is a crime, yet it is legal the next day. This rule gives us a sense of simplicity in such a complex and layered world. The same goes for liquor laws. At 20, drinking liquor is a crime, but it is celebrated at 21. Other countries set the age at 16. Each country finds logic in their respective rules. Not because of any innate truth or science behind these laws, but because they provide structure.

The concept of mental illness can be arbitrary, as we diagnose people with different disorders because of their resistance to live within the confines of walls that do not serve them. Heck, we even invented arbitrary trackers and definitions of time to protect us from the impossibility of rationalizing such an absurd concept.

These rules and constructs are not rooted in universal truth, but are rather man-made comforts. These comforts give us stability, for better or for worse.

We build walls for us to live within, and in these walls, we find comfort. The less walls we have, the more open space there is. The more space we have, the more uncertainty there is to face.

Paradox: space brings freedom, but freedom brings uncertainty. Uncertainty creates anxiety. Not pathological anxiety, but ontological anxiety. Ontological anxiety is the cause of many of the problems we face, whether we are aware of it or not.

Catch-22: We can either create walls to form our paths, but know the walls are rooted in fiction, or live without walls, but face the vast uncertainty of existence. Of course, a medium is needed between these ends to be healthy, but what does that balance look like?

Of course a counterargument is we need rules and walls to run such a large country. This is true in a practical sense, as any society needs structure to function. But just because a rule is functional does not mean there is innate truth to it. For example, the legal consent and drinking ages maintain order, but they do not reflect a truth about maturity. The laws are convenient, nothing more.

It becomes a problem when these arbitrary rules become so embedded within our own morality that we start to feel as though there must be some level of moral or philosophical truth within them. Over time, we stop questioning them to ease our cognitive dissonance, and we find ourselves stuck within the confines of these walls.

Even if one believes that order, regardless of the truth behind it, is a benefit to humanity, one must question who benefits from this order? Does this order exist for our well-being, or for the preservation of the systems themselves?

Existential psychologist Irvin Yalom spoke of four ultimate concerns we face in life: death, meaninglessness, isolation, and freedom. We respond to these anxieties, each in their own way. For death, we created the concept of legacy and engage in different cultural rituals to extend life beyond death. For meaninglessness, we follow philosophy, religion, and set goals. For isolation, we join communities and movements larger than ourselves. These responses are healthy, as they bring us purpose. However, our response to freedom is different, and potentially problematic.

As Jean-Paul Sartre said, “Man is condemned to be free.” Freedom is the source of both our suffering and our potential. A healthy response to freedom is embracing it as an opportunity to create authentic meaning for ourselves. Instead, we are programmed to reduce it by the institution of walls of rules and labels that make the gift of freedom feel more manageable. We lose individuality and become a product of the system as opposed to a product of self-actualization and reflection. Individuality is born in exploring the spaces between the walls, and the space after knocking them down.

To begin knocking some of these walls down, I ask: Is our logic really logical? What is the rationale behind the basic truths we believe to be true? Is there rationale?

Many rules exist to punish malevolent behavior, but we must ask why that behavior exists in the first place. If people were living in accordance with truth, the individual truth resonating within us, then perhaps there would be less need for so many rules. A world with fewer rules sounds unrealistic, but that is because we are conditioned to see order as the only path to peace.

There are walls we create for ourselves, there are walls that are systematically programed within us, and there are walls that are reactions to the world around us. Some are imposed on us, and some we impose upon ourselves. Some walls provide us with necessary structure. Some of us function better with more walls. Whatever works, works. What works for one won’t work for another. Celebrate this reality. Let your layers and textures show. Let others’ layers and textures show. Let them all coalesce to create this rich and vibrant place we all call home.

Reflect. Remain critical, not just of the world around you, but of yourself… Especially of yourself.

Which walls in your life benefit you? Which walls harm you? Who built the walls? You? Your family? The systems of control? Can you break any walls down? Are there walls you need to build?

The best way to change the world is to change yourself.