I think the opposite of ‘being’ is the drive to be recognized.
Maybe it’s a primal thing. A territorial thing. ‘I am here! See me here!’ that’s been domesticated into this thing we call ‘success.’
‘I am here! See my credentials that validate this!’
Yet I’ve noticed, when I feel compelled to upgrade myself to something ‘better than’ or ‘more than‘ the being I naturally inhabit, it feels like a battle, like there’s something I need to conquer or overcome before I’m able to get where I think I need to go.
Even the innocent languaging of it reeks of conquest:
‘She certainly never set the world on fire.’
Or, ‘He’s killing it!’
But the efforts to catapult myself from regular-being to the gold-standard-of-being-recognized causes so much anxiety.
Because what does ‘becoming recognized’ really mean to my own experience of being? Not much. Being recognized is really something I need others to do for me. Which puts me in a constant state of needing to abandon being with myself to find this validation elsewhere.
From what I’ve noticed, the drive to be recognized seems like the ignition of all conflict.
Because someone ‘better than’ creates someone ‘less than.’
And someone ‘less than’ is inevitably going to feel like they’d better make more of an effort to look better, to avoid being devalued or dismissed.
And this gives birth to shame, resentment, revenge, and their coping mechanisms: avoidance and distraction— all of which gets in the way of a person’s relationship to their own intrinsic experience of being, which then gets in the way of being present to build meaningful relationships with the people in our lives.
I think my drive to be recognized came from my childhood. Because while I was little and perfectly content to just be, the adults in my life were too busy trying to get somewhere better to notice, or if they were home, they were too busy distracting themselves from the exhaustion of the day’s endeavors.
I often felt neglected, and took their lack of being with me to mean I wasn’t worth their attention.
And at some point, I figured if I wanted their attention, I’d better become someone bigger and better than who I was.
So I began to work extra hard to become someone more recognizable, someone more worthy of connecting with, hoping that if I succeeded, I’d be catapulted into the kind of environment I longed for—where people were present, happy where they were, and ready to connect.
But the work of getting recognized is grueling. And every time I failed in my endeavors, I felt I still wasn’t worth what I longed for, so I settled into one toxic environment after the next, where people continued to be unavailable, reactive; trying themselves to get someplace better or to distract themselves from where they were.
It’s so hard not to get trapped in this race to become something ‘more than’ who we are.
It’s so hard to find environments where people are present to the gift of just being who we are, where we are.
And it doesn’t help that we’re constantly being bombarded by messages from screen to shining screen that invite and even urge us to work harder to be not just somebody, but ‘a somebody’—to be worth the space we take up on this planet.
I find it interesting that I’m rarely bombarded by the reminder that I am already blessed with being who I am.
This blessing is saved for greeting cards or memes, or from people hoping to enroll me in such and such course or workshop.
Maybe this is why so many people are devoted to Jesus. He’s just about the only guy in town who loves a person for who they actually already are. Of course, people even fight about who deserves his love.
So I wonder, how do we learn the skills to be able to retain our ‘being’ in this world, that is so obsessed with ‘being recognized’?
How can we cultivate our being’s purpose and share our gifts and connect with each other as we are, instead of tripping over each other or inadvertently disregarding each other on our way to becoming recognized for what we believe we should be more of?
I personally have to catch myself with every thought I think, to remind myself the distinction between sharing and connecting, verses that old drive to be recognized, in order to get me out of my hell hole and into a better place.
I have to constantly remind myself that this land I’m often in, that feels so barren and isolated, like a ghost land, is the way it is because it’s missing the only vital nutrient that can’t be bought or earned or acquired—it’s our being, and the nurturing of our being with each other’s awareness of it.
Maybe it’s as simple as a shifting of our languaging:
Instead of, ‘She never set the world on fire,’ how about: ‘Her presence always lights up the space she’s in and warms the hearts of those near to her.’
Or, instead of ‘He’s killing it.’ How about: ‘He put his efforts into pushing his best qualities out into the world, past all his conditioning, to connect meaningfully with the people in his vicinity.’
I certainly don’t have any answers. But before I share anything or speak anything, I try to remember to check in with my motivation first, to make sure my intention is aligned with my values—to connect and to be a contribution—instead of aligned with those old beliefs that tell me who I am right now is not yet good enough to share.
To shift from that desperate longing for what I don’t have, to work on healing my life from the space of being, this being that’s always been here, under my circumstances, waiting to nourish where I already am, so that my environment can grow into a place where I actually want to be, where I can be myself, and invite others to do the same.
-JLK
