On Being Self Referential

Our world has us constantly looking outside. For validation, attention, for cues on how to be. By the same token, we look outside to see how other people respond to us — whether we are valuable or lovable. We watch what others are doing to determine what’s appropriate, acceptable, or laudable behavior.

Advertisements everywhere depict people who seem to be happier, more successful, better looking and more popular than us. The disparity between how we look, act and feel and how those on the billboards look, act and feel is intentional. It is engineered so that we feel a constant, nagging tension which makes us feel like there is something we need to buy to achieve the level of happiness depicted in the ad.

It’s not that a brand new pair of sneakers doesn’t make me happy. It makes me very happy. Part of the reason it makes me happy is because new sneakers are good to look at, comfortable to wear, and quite frankly I look in the mirror and think they look good on me. But another reason is because I’ve just purchased a symbol. These sneakers which have been depicted in an ad by a beautiful, rich and charismatic person… when I wear them people around me have been programmed to believe the wearer of said sneakers is beautiful, rich and charismatic. (Fenty Pumas, Rihanna, you feel me)

The problem is feeling like without the sneakers I’m not actually that interesting. That sounds a little ridiculous because it’s just shoes, but when it comes to something like a relationship, friends, support of family, drugs/alcohol, cigarettes… I have definitely felt at many points in my life completely naked without said sources of outside validation.

The only way to be happy in the absence of ephemeral, outside sources of validation is to become self-referential.

“Your actions are your only true belongings.” – Nhat Hanh

Having a craft is a good start to becoming self-referential. If you take ownership of what you do rather than what you acquire, a deep sense of satisfaction is possible. If you take ownership of what you contribute rather than what you’ve managed to hoard, then your happiness can last.

Your belongings can be stolen from you, but your actions can’t.

As a young person it can be crippling to face divergent paths: do I acquire wealth to attract a mate who increases my status in the eyes of others? When we’re together we can look and act like the couples in the Target ads. We can even shop at Target together. And we can have a marriage, a big party which is the equivalent of main-lining outside validation. Then we move into a house together and make it look good so that every time someone walks by and we see the envy in their eyes, we’ll know we’ve arrived. And when we need yet more outside validation we can have several children and send them to school, making sure they get high SAT scores and wear Tommy Hilfiger so that in the eyes of our community we can be even more like the people on TV.

In the short term, more outside validation in exchange for less hard work. But long term there is no satisfaction to be had. The divorce rate is so high, perhaps because people get married for the sole purpose of gaining outside validation.

The other option, privately honing a craft and sharing it with the world, is lonely, embarrassing, awkward in the short term. To start some craft for one’s own reasons, to practice through the awkwardness, to get mocked (sometimes rightfully) for newbie mistakes, to do it with or without financial incentive or reward, to do it with or without social reward — to risk being seen as a dork, loser, weirdo, or worse, a failure — to do it, whatever it is, as an end in itself, takes courage and builds strength of character and humility. To withdraw from the popularity contest and the beauty pageant and just do what you want for your own reasons — it’s not for the faint of heart. There’s no guarantees of success or happiness. But in their truest forms, lasting success and happiness are only available for those who find a way to live in such a way that could be described as self-referential.