Many Selves in One Person

In the seventies, I read a book called Our Many Selves.  Like so many books, it left a permanent imprint. As I'm about to  reread it (my original copy is long gone but Pam gave me hers years ago), I'm looking forward to seeing if and how it speaks to me today.  When I first read it, I was a woman in chaos and confusion in many respects, but I was also a mother, a daughter, and a teacher.  I knew that all the parts of my self were not always in accord with each other.

I have a dear friend (who prefers to remain blog-anonymous) who said something this week that affected me in much the same way as that book did.  We were sharing things that had happened since we last talked and she said something about someone speaking from his or her "higher self."

I took that to mean "from the best, most open, wisest, most compassionate part" of who they were.

Sometimes I overhear myself sounding (or thinking) like an adolescent--angry, shouting, crying, begging, imploring the other to "get it." Sometimes I hear myself talking from my teacher self, sometimes from my wounded self, and so on.  You never know who will show up.  But the highest self speaks the truth and hears others' truths without getting all tangled up in clashing of fragile egos.

I have several sets of Russian nesting dolls--always Nathan's favorite toy when he comes over.  These wooden girls are reminders that inside the exterior self we show the world are other selves, just as real as the big outer one.  The smallest one, about the size of the tip of the pinkie finger, needs to come out and play just as the one just one size bigger, and the one after that....

It seems to me and my blog-anonymous friend that it takes a lifetime to integrate all the selves into one person.  Freedom means letting all the little selves speak, too.

David Whyte tells a story of one of his early public speaking events.  He was nervous and shy and insecure, but he invited his seven-year-old self to go up there on the stage with him.  "You don't have to talk," he told his seven-year-old self.  "I just need you to be there with me."