Self-Awareness, Depth, & Maturity

To be young. Is it immature? The very idea of maturity is rather difficult to express. Perhaps I would describe it as “handling things well.” Not getting angry. Being forgiving. Being understanding. Being kind and compassionate, even. Qualities that have one common factor: self-awareness.

How is self-awareness gained? Adults can be immature. It is not a function of age. I would say self-awareness comes from life experience, but that is incorrect. I have travelled the world since the day I was born. I have seen things. I know people. Seeing things didn’t make me self-aware or mature. The people I met and travelled with — who had more experience than me — were often neither self-aware nor mature. I’ve met people who are self-aware. I’ve met people who are mature. Having both, on the other hand, seems to be a difficult ask. Why is that?

I turn to my favorite philosopher, Emil Cioran. At just 23 years old, he wrote On the Heights of Despair which offers insight into the matters in question. He focuses on one particular idea in all of his work: suffering. In my brief survey of philosophy, the matter of suffering gains utmost priority in all discussions. Cioran argues that suffering breeds depth. Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Sartre, Camus. Even the ancient work of Aurelius and Boethius. It always comes back to suffering. Suffering invites thought which invites depth — introspection. In written form, we call this introspection philosophy. Hence why a 23-year-old can be more self-aware and mature than an old man (like the one who yelled at me last week for being behind his apartment building… where I live).

I can point to literature which illustrates this process (see Jane Eyre), but that is irrelevant. What is important in my current line of reasoning is that the only experience of any value is that which is difficult, which causes suffering. It is then the mark of maturity to engage in introspection. Those who suffer are often rather deep. Let Anna Kavan speak on their behalf as she does in Sleep Has His House:

On being unable to connect with people, even those who were kind to her:

I had only learnt how to be friends with shadow; it might be too late to learn the way of friendship in the sun... They were different from myself although they spoke a similar language... They were traitors who had betrayed their dark and magical origin... When I discovered this my confidence vanished, I felt afraid and ashamed. It was a terrible disappointment, a dreadful humiliation.

Upon realizing she will never fit in or belong, never be happy:

But I had looked too long into dazzling and sunbright faces and stayed too long within the gates of day. My eyes had looked at something forbidden, and seen what they should never have seen, and now sight itself had gone out of them.

Could anyone read such work and not see a soul that has both suffered greatly and contains great depth? I point also to Suicide for special consideration. But to read these types of books? To understand these books. To be interested in these books. Who would? Therein lies the issue: nobody wants to suffer. This is where I could point to my previous piece on how life makes us suffer for this very reason. But I am only interested in the idea of introspection for now.

It’s easy to avoid. Writing is an excellent form of introspection. Any kind of writing, really. Meaningful conversations are also good, talking about your life and what’s heavy on your mind (though that requires an apposite partner). More importantly, a reason to introspect is necessary. That could be anything from a trauma to an extreme experience. In my case, it was a desire to be alone which I quickly came to regret. I then questioned why I did this to myself, thus leading to a path of introspection. If nothing else, journaling is always a good start even without such experiences.

Whatever the motivating factors may be, introspection requires a certain type of person with the key characteristics being a desire and willingness to change. I think time and time again of a friend who has suffered so deeply yet refuses to change. My words are heard but never heeded. Is it so much to ask someone to merely try? I say to go out into the world and live; if it doesn’t work, then go back home. “I don’t have this,” or “I need that.” Buts and ifs. No willingness to change. It frustrates me; fear. I met someone else recently who I told the same things. I was met with similar responses. Always worry and concern. What about money, they ask while drinking a $7 beer. What about finding people, they question while talking to a stranger. No irony is more bitter.

Can I relax without smoking marijuana? Can I socialize without drinking alcohol? Can I love without sexualization? Can I have fun without partying? Can I sit in peace without company? Can I live with myself without conforming to societal ideals? These ideas are all the same: self-awareness, depth, and maturity. They are lacking in most people. It’s the idea of “filling the void”:

You died because you searched for happiness at the risk of finding the void.

People do things in desperate attempts to be happy, to feel at peace, to be comfortable in their own skin, to distract themselves from their own being. These people are rich in character. They have depth. But are they self-aware? Are they mature? I believe everyone suffers. It is the way of the world. Somewhere, within us all, is Cioran’s depth, buried beneath fear and means of coping — needing to be funny, be relatable, be liked, be accepted… fit in… belong. We wear masks all our lives to the point of no longer recognizing our own faces.

Why is it so hard to simply be ourselves? Why is it so easy to lose that very self? It’s the externalization of thought. We don’t have a choice in today’s world but to compare ourselves to others. It’s in everything from finding a job to finding a place to live. It doesn’t matter how good I am at my work if someone else is the boss’s nephew. Nor does my reliability in paying bills matter if someone else makes twice as much money. Not to mention the effects of poor parenting, media, and so on. Thence comes shallowness. To cope.

I could be wrong about the reasons why. Though that isn’t important. What matters is that this is the state of humanity. It is so incredibly difficult to connect with people when everyone refuses to speak about themselves. Are we all supposed to sit in a circle and pour our hearts out? Of course not. Are people more mature the older they are? In general, of course they are. But what about the youth? And what about the rest of people? What are these walls, and how do we break them down?

It’s not fun being lied to. Lies and excuses — always from fear. They put up walls. It is mature to not lie and to not make excuses. That is step one. Step two is to understand that whatever happens is simply what happens: accept it as it is. That is mature. Step three is to be open and honest. There were so many things I once felt I could never talk about, as in: “I don’t want to talk about it.” I have now learned that only ever serves to cause isolation and build walls. You have nothing to fear in revealing yourself to people. I wrote an entire book on my struggles during a difficult time. To say I was concerned about sharing that with the world is an understatement. But it has only served my benefit and helped me to break down walls. If you want to say something, then say it. If you want to do something, then do it. Maturity is putting aside fear and reservations. It is not easy, not at all. It takes a lot of time and practice.

To be self-aware is to ask yourself “Why?” about everything. It is to question your role in your own life. It is to question the roles of other people in your life. It is to question your reactions to things. It is to question all your actions. It is to ask why you feel certain ways, why you do certain things, why you want certain things. It is to ask why you don’t do certain things, why other people do things you don’t want to do, why other people think differently from you, why other people are different from you. It is to question anything and everything — with you at the center of those questions. Introspection. My advice is to write it all down. And be open about it. “I had a bad day today.” Those are the bravest words anyone can utter.

Would you be scared for other people to know what’s going on inside your mind? Are you scared for people to find out that you’re depressed? That you cry at night? That you feel lost? That you feel alone? That you feel hopeless? Are you worried about what people will think of you? That they will judge you? Do you lie and give excuses instead, to try and justify your behaviors? Do you turn to humor to conceal yourself? Do you run away and hide instead? Do you feel anxious to the point of inaction? Do you feel guilt or shame for both what you do and do not do? Are you scared to express yourself? Do you feel incapable or not good enough? Are you scared to make mistakes?

If anything sounds familiar, then it should be no shock to know other people feel the same things. I described things I’ve done myself, after all. How did I get through it? First was recognizing what I felt in the first place. Then, I asked myself why I felt those things. It takes time. It isn’t easy. Writing helps. But if you keep it all inside, nothing will ever change. It will only grow worse.

Everyone has depth. It is hidden by a lack of self-awareness. Revealing that depth requires maturity. It’s a lifelong process — our reason for being human. Don’t be afraid to be human. It makes you a good person.