Friday, October 16, 2009

Friday October 16: Shady the Superego

I don’t know if any of Freud’s theories about the mind are true. In fact, what I’ve been told about modern psychiatry from folks in med school is that there isn’t a whole lot of talk about Freud (beyond historical interest) when it comes to treating mental illness these days. Nevertheless, I wonder if his hunch about how the mind is composed of competing parts (i.e., id, ego, superego) is right, or at least useful.

I mean, I’m rarely of one mind about anything, even running. “I” seem to stand at the nexus of numerous competing thoughts, emotions, desires, judgments, and whatever else, tangling like a thousand kite strings, pulling in numerous directions at once. It’s a bit unsettling and frustrating at times.

Let me give you an example. I love to run. Love it. But there’s always some part of me lurking in the dark alley of that passion, threatening my running joy with judgements. This shadowy figure will whisper in my ear, “How can you spend so much time and money on such a useless pursuit? It’s embarrassing to work so hard at something that will get you nowhere – you’re only mediocre, after all. Isn’t it time you grew up and put your hobbies in their proper place? You’re not just running – you’re running away.”

I’m not sure if this is exactly what Freud was talking about in his theory of the “superego” – that part of the personality that absorbs the norms and values of society and sits in a cosy red plush throne and passes judgment on everything we do and think of doing – but it surely is an example of a mind divided. What’s worse is that this shadowy figure can take on the form and voice of people I know so that I end up projecting the judgement and guilt onto others – which is not a good thing.

I don’t know if anyone else feels this kind of guilt and judgment concerning their running, but it’s something I’ve never been able to shake totally. When I first started running to lose weight and to get healthy, there was no guilt at all. I was singular of purpose then – all parts of my self were on board, including that shady character who seems to stand for the opinions of others. Shady was so mortified about us being overweight that he gladly assented (with a slight nod) to an obsessive amount of exercise.

However, once it was clear that my weight and health were normalized, he began to get suspicious of the running. At times now, he’s full-blown judgemental. Mind you, he doesn’t have the power to stop me (us? -- what pronoun do you use for a mind divided?) from training seriously, but he does have a way of making the whole thing feel uncomfortable. And it sucks.

Part of the problem is that Shady may have a point – that’s probably why I can’t chase him off. For me, running can only be a hobby, and while I (obviously) think there is value in pursuing a hobby with passion, perhaps that passion can spill over into self-indulgence. It’s a vexing question for me: “Is my running self-indulgent?” True to a mind divided, my gut reaction is – “Maybe.”

Now, I don’t think running is inherently self-indulgent – not in the least. It’s more a question of balance. In an odd way, running may be like sugar cereals like Fruit Loops: part of a balanced breakfast. If all you eat is Fruit Loops, things are not going to go particularly well for you. Am I eating too many Fruit Loops?

Here’s the thing, though: in my first post to this blog, I talked about how so many wise folks say to throw yourself into whatever you’re passionate about; otherwise, you’ll become one of those people living lives of quiet desperation. That sounds great, but what if your passion doesn’t make any money?

I love to run and I love to write, but I’ll (probably) never make a living off of either because I’m mediocre at both – this is where Shady does his damage. He makes me feel like an ass for spending time on running and writing when I could be out there finding a better-paying job or contributing more to the public good. I still run and write, but I also doubt and feel guilt – my “I” is pulled in opposite directions. It sucks.

Perhaps this is just life. Didn’t Nietzsche envision the self as merely the site of competing energies? (I can’t remember, and I’m too lazy to look it up right now.) Perhaps I’ll never be of “one mind” about anything – perhaps there is no “one mind” to be had. All I can say is that even if I sometimes doubt my running, I never doubt it while I’m doing it. I don’t care if that’s just the effect of endorphins or if it’s a real moment of peace and clarity – either way, I’m going to keep running, no matter what Shady says.

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