Dancing with Our Shadows: The Anxiety at our Core

Picture, if you will, the grand tapestry of human culture, identity, and our eternal quest for certainty. All these magnificent threads, when unraveled, lead us to one simple, yet maddening truth:

We do not know who we truly are, at our core.

Like astronomers peering into the mysteries of a black hole’s singularity, we can observe its effects on space and time, trace its outline in the cosmic dance of nearby stars, and yet never truly glimpse its heart. Such is the nature of our own consciousness.

Who we are, you see, is equally enigmatic. We gather evidence like careful collectors – here a feeling, there an emotion, perhaps a thought tucked away for later examination. We document our reactions to life’s daily theater, noting patterns in our responses like scientists cataloging butterfly species. These observations become our field notes on the expedition to understand our ‘self’.

But here’s the delightful absurdity of it all: we cannot truly know who ‘we’ are at our center. We can only measure the consistency with which we dance to life’s various tunes, creating some semblance of an identity through routine and repetition. Sometimes we wake to find that yesterday’s certainties have shifted like sand dunes in the night – perhaps we no longer prefer vanilla to chocolate. A small rebellion of the self, barely worth noting in our great ledger of identity.

Life, of course, continues its merry way.

But what of the greater shifting of our internal tectonic plates? When our belief in divine architecture crumbles, or our understanding of love transforms, or our moral compass spins wildly before finding a new north? How do these seismic changes reshape the landscape of who ‘you’ are – whoever this mysterious ‘you’ might be?

The beautiful paradox is this: we cannot truly ‘know’ ourselves, and by extension, how can we possibly ‘know’ anyone else? Yet somehow, we manage to build bridges between these islands of uncertainty, forming relationships that endure. This remarkable feat repeats throughout human history, driven by our desperate desire to understand who we are. We construct our identity by surrounding ourselves with mirrors – people who reflect and affirm our chosen way of being. Those who crack these mirrors become inadvertent threats to our carefully constructed stability.

Here enters culture, that clever architect of human behavior. It draws lines around our understanding of normal, right, and good, creating a shared map for the group to navigate by. From the perspective of Kant and Nietzsche, whether this map perfectly matches the territory matters less than its ability to guide us all in the same direction. These collective understandings become our anchors in the stormy seas of uncertainty. As fear subsides, harmony flows in like a tide, bringing with it the gift of stability, and so the great wheel turns.

When stability falters and fear creeps in like morning fog, harmony retreats with the evening sun. Whether this dance of stability and chaos is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ depends entirely on where you stand – and who taught you how to stand there. These cultural perspectives carry their own life force, seeking survival like any living thing. Are they neutral? That’s a question of power, and who wields it. The answer, more often than not, is ‘probably not’. Culture is, in my humble view, rather a means to an ends. A way of pragmatically delivering us to the social cohesion necessary for us to benefit from living with a community. And that social cohesion, manifests mostly basely as ‘peaceable cooperation’. Who defines what is and isn’t ‘peaceable cooperation’? Broadly speaking, the power brokers that control the structures around which that culture is built.

And power brokers are never neutral.

Wherever humans gather, like moths to flame, you will find culture blooming like a garden. You will find the intricate choreography of group dynamics, the subtle weight of power, the whisper of fear, and there, among it all, you will find your ‘self’ – or at least, the closest approximation we mortals can manage.