This sucks. I don’t need to go on a tangent about the sorrows of isolation, because I know that you’re tired of it. What I will talk about is something that a lot of people have been experiencing during the age of COVID-19: a radical shift in self-perception and identity. Being all alone is terrifying-we know that well-enough by now-but there’s something about living with and for yourself that seems to have opened so many doors for people, including myself. Later on in the pandemic, I found this quote from Alan Watts’ Thusness that illustrates the concept quite well:
“He receives his enlightenment by going off into the forest by himself to be completely alone. In other words, a shaman is a man who has undergone solitariness. He has gone away into the forest to find out who he really is because it’s very difficult to find that out while you’re with other people, and the reason is that other people are busy all the time telling you who you are, in many many ways, by the laws they impose on you, by the behavior ruts they set on you, by the things they tell you, by the fact that they always call you by your name, and by the fact that when you live among people you have to be in a state of ceaseless chatter.
But if you want to find out who you are before your father and mother conceived you, who you really are, you almost have to go off by yourself. You go into the forest and stop talking, and even stop thinking words, and be absolutely alone, and listen to the great silences.”
In many ways, this is true. For most of your life, you’re trying to find yourself. Especially in this hyper-commercialized landscape, individuals are urged to “brand” themselves, to find an aesthetic or niche that defines them as would a business card or portfolio. Do you like flowy dresses and cottages and foraging for berries in lush green fields? You’re cottagecore. Do you like tweed and poetry and long moonlit walks? You’re dark academia. And so on and so forth. Facets of life are commodified and packaged in neat little bows for our ravenous consumption because we so desperately desire to be something. To be ourselves and to be special but to fit in homey little communities in a scary and uncertain world. We’re made to feel as if we’re running out of time in our 20s, so we grasp onto anything comfortable and familiar.
The frenzy to be something became somewhat of a performance for me. I smoked cigarettes and wore blazers and read books atop benches because that’s what fit – that’s the costume I so dutifully donned each day and thought, finally, I’m being myself! But what I didn’t know – and what’s so difficult to unlearn – is that you’re always finding out who you are, and a good way to do that is to hang out with yourself.
Straying from prying eyes, expectations, and the pervasive terror of my life clock ticking down by the second, I’ve been able to find a strange sense of peace. It can be terrifying not having labels for what you feel or who you think you are – but there’s always more time.
Isolation has given me the ability to explore different facets of myself without feeling as if I’m putting on a mask. I’ve embraced my disabled identity more and more after fearing what others have had to say. I’ve evaluated my sexuality and gender identity. Womanhood is a heavy, taxing burden. Being perceived as one, especially by men, feels as if I’m playing a part in some elaborate play where at the end I take off my costume and become myself – who that is, is still up to interpretation. Identities that rely on and reflect upon your experiences and interpersonal relationships are especially challenging to examine under the watchful eye of the public, of the constant chatter that pervades and sticks to your consciousness. Taking a step back and examining these feelings within myself rather than in relation to others has made things fall into place ever-so-slightly.
Even after not coming up with any conclusive answers about myself, I’ve reminded myself that it’s okay to not know. It’s okay to try things out, and you’re not a fraud for doing so because how else will you figure it out? The beauty of being human is that you’re always learning more about yourself- even more so when there’s less societal pressure to worry about.
Life’s a stage, and sometimes it’s good to just get out of the spotlight.
