Individuation, or self-actualization, is an ongoing process of preventing the ego, our conscious sense of personal identity, from inflating itself to the point where it becomes a dominant psychic structure that distorts reality for the individual.
We tend to protect this inflated ego and resist its destruction. However, this protective behaviour leads to suffering because the ego, in its current form, is structurally unsound; it is fragile and not authentic.
As Shakespeare wrote in “As You Like It,” “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.”
To maintain this illusion, we often create — consciously at times, but mostly unconsciously — internal and external psychic projections, which support our continued belief in the existence of the ego. This reality begins as early as 15 to 18 months old when we become aware of ourselves and understand our place in the world. I wish I could remember how this felt. (insert poop in your diapers scared emoji)
Describing it this way might sound like a mental illness, but it reflects how our cognition has evolved to protect us and help us navigate life successfully. We seek to fulfill our needs — sometimes even more than necessary — while striving to build altruistic relationships. We aim to prove our value to others and avoid ostracism from our social circle, which our primitive mind perceives as a death sentence. Historically, being removed from the tribe could have meant a lack of survival chances for early humans and other human-like species, as they would not have been able to thrive independently.
Humans understand the world through storytelling, adopting our most comfortable roles. Initially, this role is shaped by the approval from our caregivers and then by the affirmation we receive from our close friends. Later, it is still further shaped by our romantic partners and other social circles with whom we engage. We invest a lot in constructing this role, which ultimately becomes our lived experience. However, this character may not always benefit us.
As of late, we also have social media to contend with, allowing for a curated persona, which is another kettle of fish we won’t be discussing today. (insert pulling out hair emoji)
The term “ego-deflation” refers to the process of understanding the true nature of any form — which can be called an archetype — the ego constructs. It involves realizing its impermanence, acknowledging its usefulness, and not over-identifying with it.
The word “archetype” etymology stems from the “original pattern from which copies are made.” As Carl Jung, a 19th-century psychiatrist and psychotherapist, described them, Archetypes refer to universal character identifiers. He recognized patterns of characters in literature and drama throughout history and organized them into twelve types.
Jung described the archetypes as follows:
Ruler
Creator/Artist
Sage
Innocent
Explorer
Rebel
Hero
Wizard
Jester
Everyman
Lover
Caregiver
It is no surprise that behaviour patterns have been observed in people from the dawn of written history to the present, as one of our most prominent human traits is the ability to mimic others. Watching a video of a baby imitating laughter has become one of my favourite pastimes. I always feel a blissful happiness that brings tears to my eyes as I witness a baby with uncontrollable belly laughs.
Each person tends to express a dominant archetype but most likely occasionally incorporates characteristics from other archetypes. Another of our attributes is our ability to adapt, which results in our species’ well-known resilience. We may not have been around as long as the crocodile, but we have endured a few ice ages that did not freeze us into extinction.
During periods of instability, we will undoubtedly adopt some or all features from another archetype we have not expressed before. That’s when we “step up” and take on new responsibilities. For instance, a carefree-spirited mother and/or father settle down with their newborn baby into a lifestyle that renders them unrecognizable to their friends, and it all seems to happen overnight.
During specific periods of my life, I have taken on various roles, including the “hero,” “caregiver,” “lover,” and “jester.” The latter was my way of gaining validation as the class clown while growing up. Subjectively, I would say that my dominant archetype, which I seem to be most adept at, is the “sage” archetype. But perhaps this is merely my ego speaking; we’re not sure.
Each archetype has its motivations and, thereby, its purpose, and as with all things in the universe, there is a dichotomy, with each archetype having positive and negative qualities which can lead to constructive or gloom-ridden outcomes.
We can also get stuck in our roles, not knowing that we can change them. This is difficult, if not impossible if we don’t assign the highest value to something that pulls us forward into a surrendered state where change can occur.
It is similar to an actor who gets typecasted to a role or archetype they may be great at executing. At that point in their lives, the actor may have enjoyed playing those parts; they were easy, perhaps more similar to their personalities, so they didn’t require much adaptation to play the role.
But what if the actor wants to take on other roles outside of their stereotype to be challenged and evolve? How would the producers feel about this? How might their fans react? These are all tricky questions that many successful actors in Hollywood have faced to some degree. If they have a good thing going, why risk it? But what if there’s a calling to another role the actor knows they could excel in? I imagine few have dared to break free from the conventional image they’ve co-created with the screenwriter. There’s a lot at stake if success has already been achieved.
The point is not whether or not actors should expand on their skills and play other parts, even if it means, for example, taking supporting roles instead of leading roles, getting paid less, Receiving less fame, and so on; the point also concerns what the people around that actor will do. Already having identified them by their image, how will they react to change? Actors or musicians, such as pop stars, will lose a lot of their fan base, but many of them have picked up more fans after purging the ones that were not flexible or interested in their metamorphosis.
How difficult is it to be a talented actor? They take on roles that require them to become essentially another person; otherwise, the viewer may feel they are inauthentic, and they won’t be able to convey all the other aspects of the film. They won’t be able to generate, as the ancient Greeks called it, “pathos,” or the ability to inspire empathy in others.
I have read that many actors immerse themselves deeply in their roles, taking months to prepare. Some change their appearance, such as gaining or losing weight, dressing differently, developing mannerisms, and fully embracing the character’s history. At the end of a long day on set, do they remove their persona like a jacket and set it aside until they return to the next day? If so, how challenging is that? I have also encountered stories of actors who never break character while on set, during filming and off the camera. Are there any mental disturbances, whether short-term or long-term, associated with delving deeply into a psyche that isn’t truly yours?
There is another point to consider here as well; it is a fact that acting has been done for centuries, dating back to the earliest written plays from ancient times. We can assume that our hunter-gatherer ancestors were likely role-playing around the communal evening fire, similar to what we observe now in primitive cultures through their traditional dance and music. We excel at and are even drawn to playing roles — becoming characters or personas; we are not. This prompts me to wonder how solid our senses of “self” truly are.
For the final point, I will ask Shakespeare to repeat: “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.”
Like a typecast actor, we can also face the risk of altering the persona we have constructed, but as Shakespeare identified, we were never made to play only one part.
Acting conveys this truth: WE ARE NOT OUR PERSONAS. Our image is not fixed; it is mutable and reflects the appropriate way of being for each life situation at any given moment. We don’t have to conform to stereotypes, and if we do, we can break free from them, and we should because they are inauthentic and limiting. They do not represent the entirety of who we are, and acting as if they do is merely pretending, and when we pretend for too long, we suffer indefinitely.
One only needs to look at their contradictions to know we lack wholeness and that we are covering up for something missing. Look and listen for your inconsistencies, or if one brave soul should point them out for you, don’t dismiss them; they are a blessing in disguise, for they will reveal your persona as nothing more than self-delusion. An act that can’t go on forever, or if it did, would leave a life unlived.
The ego is often the only obstacle we face, as author Ryan Holiday aptly titled his book, “Ego is the Enemy.” Ego deflation involves gazing into infinity and accepting that it is boundless and has many unknowns that we might not even be aware of.
It’s the process of simultaneously tearing down and building up, which is paradoxical yet necessary. It’s as much about embracing new experiences as letting go. It represents your unformed self, where curiosity and creativity reside, and it is always a work in progress with one purpose: to assimilate the experiences of the ego.
Thus, the ego must be malleable; otherwise, conflict will arise because it will be met with a counterforce wherever resistance exists. Resistance must always be met with acceptance. This unorthodox symmetry must be practiced both internally and externally if we are to reach a state of knowing the truth about ourselves, which lies much deeper than the roles we play.
Another observable behaviour pattern in social groups is that they often outcast those who change their ways of being to improve their lives, as you threaten their egos by shattering your own. This can awaken a fear that causes them to turn their backs on you. If they listen to you, and worse, if they even partially believe that a person can indeed change, it suggests that they might also be able to change. This could unsettle their sense of security and send them spiralling into the depths of despair.
Ego deflation is a skill that requires seeking and accepting truth, a high level of humility, and treading through the most dangerous waters. You have left the safety of land and structure; now, you are adrift in oblivion, a ship lost at sea until you decide that you don’t need land, that you don’t need substance or form. It is courageous enough to look into the depths of the unconscious, into the infinite, knowing that you have only scratched the surface of what lies beneath.
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