Finding My True Self in the Two Halves of Life
In this second prologue to my series: Turning 50, Spiritually Speaking, I continue an exploration of the true and false selves, and how an understanding of the first and second halves of life help us to embrace our truest selves.
So, what do you do now that you have all this time? Friends and family often ask me this question ever since I retired from working at a Catholic school in 2018. Usually in a nonplussed manner, I manage to say, “Oh, I’m pretty busy!” All the while, I think to myself, “Well, not much, actually!” Without a defined job, it’s hard for me to share the meaningful moments of my life: living in the present moment, praying with scripture, journaling, spending time with my husband and adult children, gazing on God’s creation (okay, I watch the fat finches stuff their beaks and the bullying woodpeckers dominate the feeder). Sure, I go to the grocery store and run errands. I exercise (even run) and prepare meals. I research and write, though the writing part, the ‘doing,’ sometimes takes a back seat to the research or an occasional nap.
In my last blog, I mentioned the concept of kairos, or God’s time. It is a sense of living in the present moment, unhindered by the past and free from anxieties about the future (at least, that’s the ideal). As I have learned to live more in a kairos-like space, I am becoming truer to the person God created me to be, my true self. And living with an openness to kairos can happen for anyone who desires it, even someone with more obligations and stressors than me. It is an ongoing process, one that will continue throughout my life. In fact, I will never completely reach the epitome of my true self in this lifetime. Yet, I believe my journey toward embracing and revealing my true self is important. It is important for all of us. We all must begin somewhere; so from the beginning of our lives to now, where do you find yourself?
“When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man [woman], I put aside childish things. At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face. At present I know partially, then I shall know fully, as I am fully known.” (1 Corinthians 13:1-13).
St. Paul alludes to a journey of self-discovery and realization of God’s presence throughout our lives. First-century mirrors, usually made from polished metal, were quite clouded. So, to say ‘we see indistinctly, as in a mirror,’ St. Paul is explaining that we don’t see things clearly. At least, we don’t see things clearly yet. We hope to see God “face to face” after this life. Then, we believe that much if not all truth will be revealed to us. For now, it is enough for us to know that God sees all with a clear vision concerning God’s beloved children. Our journeys of self-discovery can lead us ever closer to God’s vision for each person and nearer to our true selves.
Let’s consider the concept of the true self. Since turning 50, I have considered who I am and who I am becoming, spiritually speaking. I thought about this a lot in my 20s, too, and I faced fears of doing the wrong thing or heading in the wrong direction - that my path wasn’t God’s intended path for me. Today, it’s more about realizing that God is present in the present moment. God is within me, within you, within all of creation. And it is all a gift. I didn’t earn any of it. The question remains as to whether or not I am open, receptive, welcoming to God’s presence (the gift). Then, do I allow this reality to change me? As my graduate professor, Fr. Adrian Burke, O.S.B. often said, we need to wake up to what it means to be children of God by “living the truth of who we are intended by God to be.” God has, after all, known us from the beginning. How do we embrace that same truth? How do we become our truest selves?
“The word of the Lord came to me saying: Before I formed you in the womb I knew you…” (Jeremiah 1:4-5)
So we begin with the question: Who am I? For much of my life, like most people, I’ve connected the “I” with what I do: my various and ever-changing roles as daughter, wife, mother, woman, sister, teacher, administrator, scholar, minister and friend. I have identified myself with my achievements and accolades, my job, my performance, my degrees, my thoughts, and my emotions. I identify also with my mistakes, my underachievement, my anxieties, my darkness, my sin. Wise beyond her years, at the age of 24, Canadian singer Alanis Morissette shared some wisdom in her song, “Joining You” (1998). Her lyrics relay the timeless message that our identities are not tied to our bodies, our futures or our defenses. We are not our culture, leaders, denials, rejections, outcomes, indignities, success, or our emotions. And, yet, we spend so much of our lives identifying ourselves with those very things.
It’s taken years of searching for what defines me to realize that everything I just listed is not my ‘ground’. Ground is a term used by German Dominican and mystical theologian, Meister Eckhart (d. 1328) to describe my and God’s essence in my soul – the ground of my soul. Nothing that we do changes the reality of this ground, an unmerited gift from God that exists in all people, equally.
“...don’t assume that God has any need for our doing. What he needs is our being.” –St. Teresa of Avila (d. 1582, Doctor of the Church, Spanish Carmelite nun and mystic)
So, if I describe myself and avoid listing my “doings,” what’s left of me in the ground of my being? Let’s take a look at the Jungian (Carl Jung, d. 1961, Swiss psychologist and psychiatrist) concept of the first and second halves of life to help us answer this question.
Carl Jung first wrote about the phenomenon of the two halves of life. During the first half of life, a person develops confidence in his or her identity (ego), shaping it through life’s experiences and desire for success, need for belonging, importance and security. As a person grows spiritually, though, he may find that the conscious things that initially shape his first half of life no longer help him in a path to self-discovery. If he seeks growth, he begins to face the second half of life where he must look inward and beyond what he perceives as acceptable to others.* Richard Rohr, OFM, reflects on Jung’s concept further: “In the second half of life, the ego still has a place, but now in the service of the True Self or soul, your inner and inherent identity. Your ego is the container that holds you all together, so now its strength is an advantage. Someone who can see their ego in this way is probably what we mean by a ‘grounded’ person.”
My yearning for acceptance, worthiness, belonging, respect and love could never reach fulfillment, though. I was looking outside of myself rather than within. And what is within me? In the ground of my being, I find my essence and the presence of God, our Creator. Consider the image of Jesus outside knocking at the door of our hearts. Is Jesus at the door knocking or within us trying to get out? Fr. Adrian suggested that Jesus is within us ready to get out. In effect, our true selves (who God intends for us to be) is already wholly within us, put there by God and ready to be unveiled.
Thomas Merton, O.C.S.O. (d. 1968), American Trappist monk, activist and prolific spiritual writer, maintained that our first half of life is a natural progression we all live through and must live through to find our true selves in Christ. Merton also wrote about the false self, as introduced by St. Paul. “For I do not do the good I wish; instead, the evil I do not wish, this I do (Romans 7:19). What is the false self? The false self is that part of ourselves we think others would approve, accept, respect or love. The false self says that we must show others our good side without risking our vulnerable, weak side. The false self prevents us from embracing and freeing our true selves.
Merton’s notion of the false self, or superficial self, can help us to find our true selves. Masks, a metaphor I introduced in my last blog, represent our false selves. My unending pursuit of perfection, for example, only hinders my growth and hides my true, imperfect self. When I cling to the myth that my pursuit of perfection leads me toward happiness or even heaven, I will never measure up. No where does Jesus ask us to reach perfection, but only to love and show mercy, to care for the poor and to be humble. If I can “take off” my mask and accept my imperfections, I am better able to imitate Christ and walk further along the path to my true self.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ…” (2 Corinthians 5:17, also Galations 6:15).
Ben & Julie (2022)
We live with the enigma of human weakness and the reality of becoming new creations in Christ. One person who lives within this enigma with her entire physical and spiritual self is my sister-in-law, Julie. In the spring of 2021, Julie was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer. In the blink of an eye, Julie’s life changed. She faced the unknown reality of a sickness that could take her life. Supported by her husband, Ben, and daughter, Maddie, she began a journey over several months where each day, each moment was a gift. Julie’s container that once held her together, began to change its shape in order to hold the changes in her inner and outer worlds: shock, hope, fear, desperation, suffering, as well as love and grace.
Through the chemotherapy and radiation treatments, the loss of her hair and her strength, Julie began a journey from the first half to the second half of her life. In real ways, Julie tries to face each day, now able to take a closer look at the emotional toll and reflect on its effect in her life. An amazing cook, Julie loved to show her love through meals and her hospitality. Unable to provide these meals for several months, Julie and her family began to focus more on the quality of their time together, by eating simple meals or carryout, taking walks after dinner and playing games more often. The toll on Julie’s body required her to rest. Now, she appreciates the gift of her body and, still recovering physically, she rests when needed. Whereas before cancer, Julie felt compelled to please others, Julie now realizes that she is loved because of who she is and not the meals or home she provides. Having faced her mortality, Julie and her family express their love for each other more freely. A full-time high school teacher, Julie is more aware now of the burdens her students might carry, prompting her to understand a late assignment or negative attitude. Her encounters with students and her colleagues are more meaningful as she is grateful because they showed up when she needed them. One aspect of growth that I see as really life-changing for Julie is her willingness to lean on the people around her, especially her husband, Ben. Having no choice but to be vulnerable, Julie relies on Ben in ways she never considered before. In addition, she voices her needs and has realized he will step up his game in order to help her. While I am humbled by Julie’s journey of self-discovery and healing, I hear her say she isn’t a hero, just someone who “didn’t die.” Yet, I hope I can learn from her and face my own true self with her compassion and acceptance.
Julie teaches me how to face my life with eyes wide open and an openness to my own true self, with God’s grace. The Holy Spirit, giver of grace, also helps us to know ourselves better over time. St. Teresa of Avila wrote, “self-knowledge is so important…I never want you to cease cultivating it. As long as we are on this earth, there is nothing more essential than humility.” It is her belief that the more we know about ourselves and God, the more we realize that we don’t know much at all. As a new mother, I relied on books on parenting and my childhood experiences to help me raise our twins. I had little idea of the “truths” I had to unlearn in order to be a more loving and effective parent to my children. I thought I knew enough. I realized I didn’t know much. Through much trial and error, prayer and listening, conversations with my husband and good friends–all prompted by the movement of the Holy Spirit–I came to realize that my kids needed my love, mercy and good boundaries rather than the perfect mother. I could not rely on how my parents raised me because of their contentious relationship and overwhelming stressors in their lives. So, I unlearned what I had learned. Amazingly, I am still learning how to be a good parent, now with 20-year-old twins entering their own new phases of life. And I’ve made plenty of mistakes along the way!
“That’s what learning is all about, where spirituality is concerned: unlearning, unlearning almost everything you’ve been taught. A willingness to unlearn, to listen.” - Anthony de Mello S.J.
The move into one’s second half of life, for those who desire it, requires an unlearning and a willingness to have a beginner's mind. The first half created a container (our identities) to hold the “truths” that help a person to belong in and understand her world. By looking outside of herself for a sense of purpose, she might find recognition she craves as well as some success, but she might act out of insecurity or fear. In the second half of a person’s life, one’s outlook and the “truths” of oneself and others begins to expand, attempting to make room for other possibilities, outgrowing or requiring flexibility in the container of the first half. As the need for approval and acceptance lessens, a person can then find room in her container for an ability to see the bigger picture and trust in God’s Spirit at work in the world. For example, my moral compass in my 20s was defined by black-and-white thinking, a clear right and wrong, an incapacity to see beyond walls I had built between me and others with differing viewpoints. As a young high school teacher, I exerted my demanding and unbending disciplinary plan, trying to maintain control of my classroom and control of the students. I couldn’t allow exceptions or show mercy. There could only be consequences. My rigidity in the classroom haunted me and my relationships, as I tried to teach by fear and dominance. Clearly, I had no idea how little I really knew about encountering my students, some only eight years younger than me. I was living out of a container that could not expand or hold space for change, including new ideas and perspectives. It took me several years, including when I raised my kids, for me to see how my insecurities enabled my need for control of my environment and the people around me. Thankfully, when I gave my students and my children the space to learn, I watched them thrive.
Father Richard Rohr, OFM offers his own thoughts on the first and second halves of life, taking into consideration how God works within our truest selves, in the inner rooms of our hearts as we learn and grow. He teaches that most people do not enter into the second half of life. Rather, they cling to the old, rigid containers that provide security, comfort, a clear right and wrong, and a defined code of ethics. What’s wrong with that, you may ask? When our container becomes too small for the realities that challenge us, when a certain perspective or belief doesn’t fit, then we tend to keep it out and exclude it entirely. My 20-year-old twins, Jacob and Samantha, challenge my perspective often. I don’t always agree with them, but I’ve learned to listen to their opinions as they develop their own thinking. I would say their containers are quite large, the same as many young people in their generation, welcoming all walks of life, all people regardless of sexual identity, for example. I will admit that I’ve been slow to embrace a regard for the notion that “whatever makes a person happy is fine.” Yet, I appreciate the challenge to welcome and hear the perspectives of those marginalized in our communities because they make us uncomfortable. As my notion of Church and who is Church has definitely expanded these past several years, I must face those who do not feel a part of a faith community because of a different lifestyle. I thank God that my idea of Church is growing toward a more inclusive and welcoming community of faith.
Meister Eckhart, in his description of our ground, emphasized that because we share this ground with God, that we can imitate Jesus, acting with love and mercy and a desire to know God. We do this because of who we are in Christ, in our ground, instead of as a means to get into heaven. In essence, we live without a why. We live in our truest selves in order to be Christ in this world. We don’t earn or merit heaven by our actions. Heaven on earth is the living out of our truest selves, always facing the reality of our false selves, and relying on God’s grace every step of the way.**
“God has fallen out of containment in religion and into human hearts - God is incarnating. Our whole unconscious is in an uproar from the God Who wants to know and be known.” –Carl Jung
Our containers have grown too small for the God of life, of love and of mercy. The moment we think we have it all figured out, that we’ve learned all there is to learn, that we can pinpoint the exact way to salvation and everlasting life, our container stops expanding with the “God [who] is incarnating” within us and around us. Even with the best intentions, we forget that we are not God and could never imagine what God’s vision might look like. Whenever someone, even Church leaders, point to “the only way” to God, or “the only way” to be worthy or to merit God’s grace, they have missed the mark. For God’s way is not our way and God’s vision goes so far beyond our own.
At 7, I was a child and my vision was limited. As a young bride at 24, I thought I knew a lot, but really knew very little. In my forties, I began to understand that it was possible to find my true self with a beginner’s mind, guided by God’s grace. So, what have I learned, spiritually speaking, as I turn 50? I’ve learned that I will never cease to grow and expand as long as my heart remains open and humble. As I begin to explore the second half of life, If I can allow God to be God, then I can be human.
Who am I? Now, at the age of 50, I know this much: I am a child of God. I am a disciple of Christ. I am God’s creation and, as such, I am touched by the divine. “It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)
With this in mind, and with the goal of becoming our true selves, I will reflect on the first lesson I have learned from my 50 years–Living with a Both/And worldview–in my next blog, Part I of the series: Turning 50, Spiritually Speaking.
Call to Action: In the comments below, share something from this blog that really spoke to you and why.
Blog Notes:
*For further information about the first and second halves of life, follow this link to an excellent summary of Carl Jung’s approach: The Two Halves of Life
** I’m including a Meister Eckhart quote here, which I think is a meaningful addition to my explanation of our “ground.”: “Here God’s ground is my ground. Here I live from my own as God lives from his own…Out of this inmost ground all your works should be wrought without why. I say truly, as long as you do works for the sake of heaven or God or eternal bliss from without…that is not the best.” (Meister Eckhart, quoted by Matthew Fox 6/9/21 daily meditation)
For further reading on the true self/false self and the first and second halves of life, try these books: Memories, Dreams, Reflections by C.G. Jung (Aniela Jaffe, editor); Seeds of Contemplation by Thomas Merton; Falling Upward by Richard Rohr
Song for Contemplation: “Joining You” by Alanis Morissette (1998). While the story behind this song includes a dear friend who is contemplating ending her life, Alanis responds with encouragement to see her life in an entirely different way; one that helps her detach from the things of this world that distract us from our true selves.
