Nature attains perfection, but man never does. There is a perfect ant, a perfect bee, but man is perpetually unfinished. He is both an unfinished animal and an unfinished man. It is this incurable unfinishedness which sets man apart from other living things. For, in the attempt to finish himself, man becomes a creator. Moreover, the incurable unfinishedness keeps man perpetually immature, perpetually capable of learning and growing. There is something unhuman about perfection. The performance of the expert strikes us as instinctual or mechanical. It is a paradox that, although the striving to master a skill is supremely human, the total mastery of a skill approaches the nonhuman. They who would make man perfect end up by dehumanizing him.
- Eric Hoffer
Self-Definition - a Barrier to Learning
An important point about learning or growing in general: both are involved with change, whereas self-concept is concerned with the status quo. One way out of this contradiction is to accept a concept of yourself which allows for change; that is, to think of yourself as a human being in the constant process of change. This step is usually taken by people who want to encourage growth in themselves. But it is difficult to allow oneself to change rapidly, to give up one's sense of permanence and precious self-image. People who make a goal out of "growing" or "searching" often allow themselves merely the illusion of change and of nearing their goal.
Because our self-image has such a hard time handling change, human beings find it difficult to let themselves change. We may adopt new acts, but we cling to the deep core of our self-image. Often the more we alter our appearance, the more attached we become to our concept of self. I know only one way out of this dilemma: forget about making an effort to grow, to change, to learn, and instead put your energies into perceiving your essence and discovering that part of yourself which doesn't change - not because it's a useful concept, but because it's who you really are. The closer one comes to the center of oneself, the closer one approaches that which doesn't change - that which, in fact, produces growth. Then change is no longer frightening and takes place automatically, because it is our nature.
Consider what it would be like to be a caterpillar changing into a butterfly. This is a very dramatic growth, requiring a lot of new learning in a very short period of time. If the caterpillar had a self-image, it would panic as it left the security and tangibility of the earth for the limitless ambience of the air. In worrying about losing its feet and beautiful fur it would resist its alteration and probably take forever to express its potential as a butterfly. One can imagine that the only way the self-image of a caterpillar could handle this transformation would be to identify with whatever part of it didn't change during its transformation. To all appearances it is becoming a totally new creature, but is there something which remains constant that it can cling to? Yes: its life. The life animating the caterpillar is the same as that of the butterfly; it merely expresses itself in two different forms. If the caterpillar could focus on the life within itself, on its essence, the transformation would be as easy as changing clothes.
Self-Discovery versus Self-Definition
The subject of self-image is complex, and my understanding of it is only a beginning, but one thing that has made a great deal of difference in my life has become clear to me. I now realize that there is an enormous difference between our self-image's process of self-definition - that is, the creation and maintenance of concepts about yourself - and the process called self-discovery. When I play the game of trying to define myself, I am constantly comparing myself with others, measuring myself in terms of higher and lower, better and worse, more right or more wrong than others. Or I may measure myself against internal standards and expectations of how I should be. My sense of self-worth rises and falls continuously, on the basis of my performance and of how harshly I judge myself at any given moment.
The process of self-discovery could hardly be more different. When I am able to achieve this state, I do not assume I have to become anything that I already am not, and so my only task is to explore and express whatever it is I happen to be. There is no need to imprison myself in a cell of my own making or into the mold of others' expectations. Rather, my job is to let go of the concepts and limiting images which prevent me from perceiving and expressing my greatest potential. I don't want this potential to be any different that it actually is; I only want to fulfill that which is already there. And of all the potentials I may possess, I most want to realize the one I hold in common with every individual: to know what it is to be human, and to express the essence of that which is unique to our species and held in common by all of us.
- W. Timothy Gallwey, Inner Tennis: Playing the Game
