Three Examples of Group Quest LITE weekly emails:
Example 4:
Your Different Skins
Today, I was in a lift (elevator). When it stopped at a certain floor on the way to my floor, two girls entered. I guess they would have each been about 9 years old.
I noticed that they’d been running as the lift opened, like birds in flight, giggling away and talking as young children do. However, when they entered the lift, all of a sudden, they both became very quiet, their movements subdued, held back, tucking in their wings, so to speak; and they cast sideways glances at me, the other adults in the lift, and at each other, as if sharing some secret, but too self-conscious to speak.
When they arrived at their floor (still on the way to my floor), they got off. As the lift doors closed, I saw them leap into motion, running away, spreading their wings once more, and I heard them resume their giggling and chatter, freed, it seemed, from the straight-jacket environment of their elders in the lift.
It was as though these girls had put on a different skin when they were in the lift, dictated by how they were “expected to act” around adults—dictated by how the adults acted in the lift.
To a certain degree, something in them was still aware of the difference between how they were outside of the lift and inside of it, although they probably couldn’t have put it into words. They simply knew that a certain code of conduct was “required” in the lift.
Such taught and conditioned social “requirements”—do’s and don’t’s, really—are the basis upon which social order is built, and these are very necessary to maintain a structured and stable society. We’re all taught these do’s and don’ts either directly or, more often, by imitation. And we comply, because, basically, nobody wants to feel like the odd person out; we wish to fit in, be accepted, and be liked by others. And we wish to “get on” in life.
However, as we grow up, something strange happens. We stop noticing the “skins” that we put on in various social and life circumstances. Each adopted, learned, imitated set of what’s acceptable and expected behavior in each life situation becomes a “role” we play. And it becomes unconscious.
And we forget that it’s a role. We increasingly identify with it, equating it with who we are.
This is true, too, of our different behavior with different people in our lives. We act one way around one person—say, our father or mother—and completely differently around other people. But we stop noticing this, too, at some point in our lives.
It’s as if all these roles no longer know of the existence of the other roles, thinking in the moment that they are holding the reins of our waking consciousness, that they are all of us. When the next role appears, the others are completely forgotten, completely subdued.
Every time we “fall into” another role, we’re putting on another straight-jacket of expected and conditioned behavior. Every time we do, we give away our freedom. We tie down our wings. We accept to live in a kind of prison. It’s a comfortable prison, though; it’s more uncomfortable to take off the “skin” and allow others to see what’s underneath. So, we accept the prison as a kind of protection.
I’m sure all of you have felt constrained at times by certain social circumstances. Something in us tells us: don’t laugh too loud, watch your language, don’t let anybody see how nervous you are, don’t let that person over there see how much you’re attracted to them, don’t wear your hair or clothes a certain way, because it’s not fashion at the moment, and so forth.
But it’s worse than this; we even unconsciously alter our gestures, postures, facial expressions, tensions, vocal inflexions, thought patterns, emotional patterns, and so forth. Far beyond what we might do consciously for an intended effect. We effectively become a different person in each new social circumstance. But it’s not our true self; it’s an assumed, conditioned identity each time.
Imagine how it would feel to be aware each new “skin” that you put on, as it happens; and imagine how freeing it would be to be able to step back from this “skin,” seeing that it’s an assumed identity, and center yourself in a truer place in yourself!
This doesn’t mean trying to get rid of the “skin,” though, because it serves a valid purpose in your life. It does mean detaching from it, though, dis-identifying with it, and seeing it for what it is.
Given the preceding, I invite you to try the following:
Become aware of how you are in different social circumstances and with different people. Compare this to your sense of yourself when you’re alone. Noticing how you are when inside a lift with other people is a great start!
Even play with these difference by, say, being in a social circumstance—e.g. at work, with family at home, out shopping, or out on the town—and then go to the restroom, into a cubicle, and compare the difference in how you feel about yourself when alone as opposed to when you’re with these other people. Then return to the gathering and compare again. Do this multiple times if you wish.
As always, this isn’t a test, but rather it’s an exploration of who you are—an exploration of consciousness, for your enlightenment, healing, and wholeness. Simply see where it takes you.
Truth, Light, Love, and Oneness,
Martin Lass - Founder of S.O.L.A.R.®
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Copyright S.O.L.A.R.® 2007
