On being "unvarnished"

Thanks to a book S2 gave me as a Christmas gift, I've been giving a bit more thought lately to self-perception. I have two lines of thinking: First, how well do I perceive myelf? Second, just how accurate can self-perception be anyway -- and, as a consequence, what good is it?

I could get into this in great detail, but I won't.

I'll just say that I've got some work to do in the area of self-perception. However, I have observed that people who I feel know me pretty well (and still seem to like me anyway) understand certain character traits of mine in a similar way as I do. They see me not necessarily as I'd really *want* to be seen -- I can't help but desire I was a bit more "evolved" in certain ways -- but in their reflection of my character, I know they see a lot of the Me that I understand or believe myself to be. That is, perhaps, an indicator that my self-peception skills are doing alright.

But just how accurate can it be? My opinion: Not very. We all view the world with countless filters of experience, belief and genetic predispositions. Just as there's no way to know if we see the same exact shade of red -- that we perceive it in a truly identical way as does another -- none of us can remove all those filters and say about an individual, "This is the essential UCM or the essence of The Clairvoyant or the fundamental S2 or the core of The Asian's being."

Our lenses refract and distort and rewrite and slow down and speed up *everything* we experience. One e-mail can be read several different ways: The author can be firting or commiserating, and it can be hard to say which. We suggest that context is everything, but even context is construed in different lights depending on one's experience or even on one's understanding of vocabulary. (What does "sarcastic" mean to you?)

That vexing little problem (or gaping conundrum that undermines this whole essay) aside, I shall engage in some conjecture about a bit of feedback that people give me with some regularity. Everyone uses different phrases, but I will sum them up by saying they find me rather unvarnished. I don't bring a lot of pretense to my relationships, I don't engage in a lot of undue deference, and I am often willing to "put myself out there," in the words of many diverse and unrelated people.

This approach hasn't always gotten me where I'd like to be, but neither have my attempts to be who I am not. Part of the truth, my friends, is that I'm as "natural" as I am out of laziness. It takes too much effort to be something I'm not. (I like to think this may be because I'm a very powerful spirit. Why fight it?)

But regardless of *why* I am the way I am, I have started to believe something (and am open to the possibility, by the way, that every belief is little more than a delusion). I have started to believe that my being "unvarnished" is one of the great gifts I bring to those in my life. Because in the presence of people without a lot of pretense -- who also happen to be as open-minded and accepting as myself (for what that's worth) -- there is room for others to relieve themselves of their pretense as well.

I saw that play out when I had dinner with The Clairvoyant and The One at their home tonight. Following an exceptionally healthy and flavorful meal, we sat around the dining table and talked for a while. The Clairvoyant is a social creature like myself and a bit of a raconteur. But tonight, she carved up the table with some storytelling so theatrical and hysterically funny that I was floored. It has been *years* since I laughed so hard.

Later, I said told her, You know, TC, you should have a standup routine. That was out of this world.

"Nah," she replied. "I can't do that in front of most people. But you bring that out in me. Or you let that exist in me."

I think you let it exist in *yourself,* and are simply willing to share it with me, I said. You could share it with others.

"It's too hard," she said. "I can be that way around The One, too, but not most people. You're different, though. You're just ... yourself."

In truth, I don't know what that means. But I get similar feedback from a lot of people, and they generally mean it as a compliment.

However, there are plenty of folks who simply can't deal with me. I'm "too much" or "not enough" of something. I've suspected at times that I look out of control to certain people, too attached to the experience of the present to be predictable and ... sane. Some seem to find my approach inappropriate or lacking in class consciousness.

Others have used the term "disarming." This can sometimes be a compliment, but I see in the word an element of fear. If you take away someone's armament, they may feel exposed and vulnerable. They may feel manipulated and angry. They may feel frightened. A disarming person is one to be avoided or around whom they must work especially hard to maintain the cultivated veneer they use to get on in life.

Here's the thing: I don't really care which it is.

I often enjoy myself tremendously with people who drop the pretense around me, as I did with The Clairvoyant. But I also recognize that people do not have to drop the facade and reveal their "real self." Why should they make themselves unnecessarily vulnerable? Why should they trust the world with their tender being? And anyway, sometimes the facade is so deeply engrained that it *is* a representation of the "real self." The fact that this reality makes my heart ache a little notwithstanding, it seems best to me to accept people however they present themselves. It doesn't stop me from wanting to peak under the hood and find out what's going on inside them, but I do respect their choices.

I had a friend who often talked about what each of us "brings to the table." This is the self we have, the self we reveal to others, the self we keep to ourselves, the self who looks back at us in the bathroom mirror and knows all those other selves intimately.

"Unvarnished" may not be the kindest of words. It implies a bit of crudeness and a lack of concern about presentation. Both of these things are true about me, and both of them are false. (You may also call me "paradoxical.")

But the woman in the bathroom mirror seems to think "unvarnished" is accurate, and she takes it as a compliment. That's good enough for me.