As I sit here with hair dye on my head, let’s talk vanity for a sec.
Everyone’s familiar with the unhidden, blatant side of vanity; it’s in our faces every day, especially, dear God, if we’re on social media. Look at me! Look at what I did! Look at how good I look #nofilter #nomakeup. Each plea a strained, thin note, its true nature unknown to itself, begging for safety, for appreciation, approval, acceptance, validation: don’t hurt me, tell me I’m worthy of something, that I’m special, that I matter, tell me you won’t leave me, tell me I’m loved.
Let’s make a distinction here though: shouting Hey, look at this! is very different than saying Hey, look at what I did. The difference? Is credit. The difference is possession and pride and ownership. One is noticing. The other is credit.
We’re used to hearing “pride” and “ownership” in a positive light, often linked together as a good thing—as in “pride of ownership”— meaning we’re attending to and taking care of what we own, such as a home or a car, keeping it nice. But I’m seeing it a little bit differently: we can experience gratitude for, awe of, joy, and take care without also assuming ownership, pride or credit.
Incidentally, my daughter is 4 years old, and I hear “Mama look at me! Mama watch!” approximately 57 quazillion times a day, generally followed by her moving her pointer finger up and down or jumping on one foot à la Stuart of Mad T.V.. She’s excited to show me something because everything is new to her—she’s noticing. This isn’t vanity.
The gap between Check this out! and Look at what I did, now love me for it! is Grand Canyon-y. Sharing from joy isn’t neediness and acknowledgment/approval-seeking. Guy Ritchie’s incredible film Revolver lays it out in this scene.
Stepping out onto another film reference (oh I’m killing myself with this!), what’s the creaky, Indiana Jones-style, boards missing, rope fraying, about-to-plummet bridge connecting Check this out! to Look at what I did and love me for it? It’s credit.
It’s ownership. It’s pride. Perhaps, when parenting my daughter, if she squeals, “Mama look at me!” and, aware I am creating her ego’s internal voice and her ego perception of who she is, I respond with “How fun!” or “Bodies are so fun to be in aren’t they?!” perhaps her take-away is quite different than “Great job honey!” or “You did it! I love you so much!” (which, btw, I have said in many unconscious moments). Perhaps with any action she takes, if instead of approval she receives noticing and me sharing in her joy (or pain), the “me” doesn’t get linked with the "did it” part. A well-intentioned “Good job!” has the potential to create Hell. Offering actual Love (presence), eschewing approval-for-deeds and modeling noticing results in the Heaven of BEing rather than DOing. Subtle, but possibly one of the most important parenting shifts that can occur. We become aware to mold the healthy ego (in ourselves and our children), rather than the neurotic one, for which it is our adult work to dismantle. As David Richo states in When Love Meets Fear,
The functional ego is the best vehicle for the emergence of the Self.
Which is the why of therapy, they why of doing the work on the identity. The why of aware parenting. It is the hero’s journey of emerging as the Self.
And here’s a point: Look at me I’m good and Look at me I’m bad, are the same thing.
Aaaaand we’re not even close to the hidden side yet. But first, let’s pose this question:
CAN I EVER take credit for anything? I’m going to propose, right now, that the answer is NO.
Why? Let’s start not quite at the foundation: because the “I” we perceive ourselves to be, we did not create. Sure, we may have practiced the piano, but did that small ego “I” create itself? Or even the desire to play? Pshaw. No. So anything it wants to take credit for is hogwash, correct?
The capitol T Truth is that “we” created nothing. “We” are being lived through. And even more True, is that all of everything, including this us we think we are, is simply Life Happening. No credit, no pride, no ownership. Does a tree pride itself on growing taller? Does it take credit for that? Does it need ten thousand likes for it? Does it see itself as separate from anything else? Does it see itself at all?
A tree is our teacher in every way.
This human mind though! This survival mechanism we think we are! We take credit for all of it. We think we create and own ourselves. We think we can own ourselves. Ludicrous.
And here, finally, is the hidden side of vanity: that taking credit for our “failings” or weaknesses is also vanity. We understand vanity when it comes to pride, but do we see it also in action when we demean ourselves? When we are self-deprecating? When we express the type of humility that we get social credit for?
“I’m always fucking up.” and “I’m a fucking star” are the same thing.
One is socially rewarded as vulnerability or humility (which it is not) and one is shunned as narcissism (or revered as celebrity—process that current societal fact for a sec). Am I “calling myself out” (which is really just observing something about myself) for social credit or because I’m just noticing? It is the genuine noticing that can produce natural, real, automatic change.
Why is “I’m always fucking up” not humility? True humility is not taking credit in any direction. “I’m always fucking up” is taking credit (I did this and I own and created myself). That’s different than not taking responsibility. (Note also that“I’m always fucking up” is also just a meaningless judgement—just notice an action and do something different). Not taking responsibility is “Whatever, I couldn’t help it, just deal with it” or “I’ll just keep doing this I guess cuz that’s how I am”—no matter what form that takes, whether it’s “I’m so dumb”, “you made me do this” or “it’s fate/the Universe etc.” and not changing behavior. There is acknowledgment of non-awareness (“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, I wasn’t aware of what I was doing, and now I’ll do it differently.”) Yes, there was non-awareness before and no choice. At one point in my life I didn’t understand eating meat is destroying the planet. Now I do. I don’t eat meat. Now there is awareness and a different action happens. That’s it. If behavior doesn’t change then there hasn’t really been an integration of awareness.
Not taking credit looks like this: “This happened.” I wrote this essay v. Look at how fucking fab I am because I wrote this essay. Or the other side of the same coin, OMG I can’t believe how dumb I am that I wrote this essay.
Shy/embarrassed (typically rewarded in our society) is no different than tooting our own horns: it’s all taking credit, it’s vanity flipped on it’s head.
In a similar vein (heh heh), taking credit for my body in any way is preposterous. Did I create my body? Let’s look at it. Could I, right now (or at any point), create a body? Could I create even one cell? Even one part of a cell? Could I create a mitochondria? Can anyone? Could I create a leaf? An ant? The very best I can do is cobble something together out of the materials that Life has provided and imitate what Life created: in no way does a helicopter, amazing as it is, come close to the abilities and form of the mosquito. The mosquito, for which we hold in zero form of high regard.
So where is there any appropriate place to ask for or receive credit? I can’t find it. It just isn’t there.
The true event is that there is simply noticing happening. There is care, as in, I’m caring for my body because it is an astonishing, unearned gift of Life—it IS Life—as is this “me” structure that takes care.
This separate me I think I am is only a thought (a thought which, by the way, “I” didn’t “create”), and a misperception at that. There is no “me”—there is LIFE happening, and thus, there is no credit. This small I, in its heathy state, may have appreciation and gratitude for Life, but in reality, Life is “me” and it is not separate from “me”—there IS no me. There is just Life happening. See?
Knowing this unravels everything. Just. Life. Happening. And as the illusory local consciousness, I’m enjoying the nonlocal as myself. No credit, no blame (again, they’re the same—two sides of the same coin).
Through everything. Just here. Now. Noticing.