Presence vs Self-consciousness

On subtle distinctions between presence and absence; Self and self

I’m sure you’ve heard many times the widespread encouragement these days to be “present in the moment.” Granted, those aren’t always the exact words used. Other variations include being “mindful,” “grounded,” “centered,” “tuned in,” and so on. This is, honestly, all well and good. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in the grips of a never-ending series of unproductive thoughts pulling me away from the reality of the present moment. Those periods, even if lasting for only a few minutes, aren’t happy ones. Those periods, when we’re lost to the world, engaged in what’s probably a negative feedback loop of thought after thought, endlessly digging themselves deeper into a hole that slowly starts to resemble depression. Techniques for mindfulness - or to use a less loaded term: presence, are incredible tools to help us get out of such ruts. Through meditation especially, it’s possible to recognise these cognitive slumps as what they are: slumps, composed of thoughts and powered by unwelcome emotions boiling to the surface of our minds. How many times have you been in a social situation and asked yourself in your mind, worried: “What should I say next? What’s the best response to make this person feel acknowledged? What should I say to project the image I want others to have of me?” How many times have you been by yourself after an event you found embarrassing or disappointing, beating yourself up for it and asking: “What should I have done?”

The thing about these psychological ruts which has always fascinated me, is that there’s a sense in which the principle we’re being asked to follow when being mindful; to be present and grounded in ourselves, right now, in this moment - is reminiscent of that hopeless self-consciousness we get stuck in in our worst moments. There’s a false resemblance, in much the same way as how the image in the mirror resembles you, or how a rope might resemble a snake…¹

They’re not the same of course. They really couldn’t be any more different. When you’re present, grounded in this moment and responsive to the now, you’re not self-conscious at all. You’re not concerned with the idea of what you should be doing, because you’re too busy actually doing it. When you’re stuck in the rut of self-consciousness on the other hand, you’re not doing much at all, because all your energy is spent worrying about the right course of action. The opportunities to actually engage with the moment and be that person you’ve always dreamt of being; to be that person you imagine being viewed as, is slipping through your fingers, because you’re too busy thinking and worrying what that kind of person would do. We get hopelessly entangled in the web of the mind, spending all our time constructing our expectations of ourselves and no time actually living up to them. Yet nevertheless, there’s a strange likeness between the two which has often made it all the more difficult, for me at least, to navigate successfully from a sporadic flurry of thoughts, and into the present moment.

What does it mean to be present in this moment? To me, it’s always seemed that, whenever I’ve been truly present in the now, those were also the moments when I was most present within myself. Strangely, though self-consciousness is named after the self, it’s precisely in those moments when it’s totally and completely absent, that I’ve felt most conscious of and at one with that self. You might discover it in those moments of dynamic feedback, when immersed in an engaging and fascinating conversation with someone whose perspective you greatly value, losing yourself to the flurry of insights springing up in your mind as you listen to them, your voice effortlessly expressing discernments you may never even have had before. You might discover it in those of moment of flow, when you’re giving your all to a task, putting pen to paper after a moment of inspiration, or getting lost in the zest of playing your favourite piece on a musical instrument, and so on. For me, the times I’ve noticed most of all this strange analogy between presence and self-consciousness, is during meditation. Sometimes during meditation, I become acutely aware of my own awareness.² The distant thoughts which otherwise entrap my mind in a web of worries give way to a keen awareness not of who I want to be, but of who I am. In other words, I become acutely aware of my self. 

The energy of such moments can be very similar to that of flow. There’s a similar lack of worry, a spontaneous collapse of all negative self-talk; heck, all self-talk, into the singularity of the present moment. Everything becomes crystal clear and I can truthfully say “This. This is who I am.” Not that other guy worrying about this or that, rolling around in a cobweb of useless thoughts, or falling prey to the hedgehog’s dilemma. No. This, right here - right now - is me. 

Now back to the point. What I’ve been trying to say is that there’s a sense in which being present - here and now -  is actually synonymous with being truly self-aware. In fact, there’s no time you’re more acutely aware of your self, than in that beautiful stream where all the distractions disappear and you thus find yourself alone. Yet, this awareness has nothing to do with self-consciousness the way we typically understand it. Self-consciousness is in fact, a misnomer. The idea of yourself is not who you are and ruminating on it amounts to ruminating on a construct; a figment of your mind, but not you. 

When the moments surface where I’m again distracted and lost, pondering on my desire to return to the blissfulness of presence, I sometimes lose sight of this difference and, in frustration, ask: “Why is it not working? I’m aware of myself! I’m thinking about nothing else, so why is there no peace, why is there no flow? Why can’t I for the life of me figure out where my self is at? Why does my mind still feel so constipated??” 

Of course, it’s because the self is not the Self. When you get stuck in a cognitive rut, that’s not you talking. It’s your ego. The ego has to strive. For something. It doesn’t matter what for, but it has to strive, that’s all. Self-consciousness is not Self-consciousness. It’s ego-consciousness; consciousness of an image of oneself which is not present. It exists not now but then. 

The distinction between the two can seem incredibly subtle. A tiny passageway. So tiny there may be times you’re unable to find your way back to that little crack you must pass through. You have to let go of the image to see the real thing with your own eyes. Your own eyes, rather than the eyes of the constipated, self-conscious mind, gazing on at an imaginary hoped-for future and forgetting completely that there already exists a person in the real present looking through those eyes in despair. It’s a cruel facsimile, as though conjured up by some cunning demon to compound our frustrations with ourselves. It’s your inner critic selling you the scam that you just have to think a little harder about that inconsequential choice; beat yourself up a little more about your human imperfections, and then you’ll be content within your own shoes. You won’t. You only will when you recognise that you already possess everything required to be happy, right now.

So I hope the next time either of us falls into a pit of self-consciousness, we’ll recognise it as the scam that it is. 

1. This is a reference. Kudos if you know what to.

2. Sometimes, this is the whole goal of the meditation too.