The real me
It has been a while since I have written and I have missed it. Things have been very busy. I have also struggled with the material I have wanted to write. I have felt my topics have a been a little weighty and perhaps overly personal, which caused me to pause a little. However, as I go back to my original purpose for writing this blog, I realized that I just need to write about whatever is on my mind and not self-censor too much.
I have been thinking a lot about a question. What is the real me? That is, if you strip away all things superficial and superfluous what is left? Is that the real me? I think about what the real me is not in terms of small talk at a party or the information that might be on a baseball card, our personal “stats” if you will, if such a thing existed for everyday people. Those things we might say about ourselves as we meet a stranger or what might be on our baseball card could not possibly be the real us, could they? That is, I am not my job, the neighborhood I live in, my degree, my hobbies, my vacations, the food I eat, the important people I know or have met. My personal baseball card stats are not me either. I am not my height, my weight, my income, my assets, my possessions, my triumphs, or my failures.
The more I have contemplated the question what is the real me, the more I feel the real me is potentially something ineffable. If that’s true, perhaps it is not possible to describe the real me with any degree of accuracy to another person. But, maybe we can come to an understanding of ourselves in a real way, which might be more important than being able to articulate “the real me” to someone else. To that point, I want to describe something I saw that suggested one can come to really understand oneself in a real way.
In December, I visited the Frick Collection in New York City. On that visit, I saw the striking self-portrait of Rembrandt above. It was a self-portrait that depicted its creator later in his life. This portrait stuck with me. However, serendipitously, I subsequently listened to a poignant lecture on this particular painting by William Kloss. I really enjoy Kloss’ lectures because he seems to deeply appreciate the human in art. He is not overly concerned with technique and style, while his comments on those elements are instructive. In this instance, Kloss suggests that the self-portrait above presents a calm and philosophical Rembrandt. Rembrandt’s life was filled with artistic triumphs, but also tragic personal and financial losses. Those highs and lows are not depicted in this portrait. This portrait shows a man in heavy clothing, giving the portrait weight and solidity. The man depicted has reached a high degree of peace with his knowledge, experience, achievement, and his joys and sorrows. Further, Rembrandt does not try to make himself into something he is not. If we zoom in we see the following:
As the artist, Rembrandt could have depicted himself as youthful with its attendant physical strength. However, he gives us a candid view of his aging. He does not hide his wrinkles and drooping eyes. Rembrandt knows that age has ushered in a new form of strength. Not a youthful strength, but strength that comes from a detente after the battles that rage within an individual to define who we really, fundamentally are.
To conclude, I believe our real selves are revealed as we make peace with sum total of our lives’ experience, without paying undue attention to the ephemeral elements of our lives. Perhaps we increase our understanding of our real selves as we genuinely accept who we are without trying to suffuse the narrative of who we are with things that do not really matter. Ultimately, I believe we understand our true selves when we can look in the mirror with appreciation, and see a Rembrandt-like portrait that is flawed, but uniquely us.
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