Our Only Self
What does it mean to find ourselves? In the sci-fi/noir masterpiece known as Cowboy Bebop, a character is introduced that addresses that exact concept. Her name is Faye Valentine. Placed in cold sleep for 75 years following a terrible accident, she awoke in a future world with no recollection of her past self. A tragic character with a lost story, destroyed medical records, and no family to come for her. All she had was her own name. Faye emerged into this new space faring society lost in more ways than one. Her identity, at least her original one, was hidden somewhere deep inside her mind. Faye had no choice but to move forward and eventually found her way to the main group of the show on the spaceship Bebop.
One day, a package arrives on the spaceship addressed to her. Inside was a videotape. To the characters, it looked like a fossil, and spent the better part of the 20 minute episode locating a technological historian to just find out what it was, let alone find something to view it on. The tape eventually played. Suddenly, Faye’s 12 year old self appears on the screen, it was a time capsule tape Faye had made for her future self, 10 years from that point. She had been placed into cold sleep before the tape could find her, so it patiently remained in transit for 70 years to one day find its owner. Faye watches her younger self with a blank stare, asking “Is that me?” She found herself, but it was absolutely unrecognizable. She witnessed the life she supposedly once had, the person she used to be, a version of herself not yet bittered by tragedy, betrayal, debt, and solitude.
To end the tape, the younger Faye put on her pom poms, looked toward her future self, and imparted an incredible sentiment:
“In your time, I am no longer here. But I’m here today, and I’ll always be cheering for you right here. Cheering for you, my only self.”
What does that say about identity, about who we are versus who we’ve been? What did that reminder of a self before life’s tragedy teach Faye about her core identity? Of course, Faye’s case is very specific and adds unbelievable depth to that sentiment. However, I think it symbolizes an idea relatable to us all. In Matthew Todd’s book Straight Jacket, he uses a classic Russian doll as a powerful symbol of an individual's identity. He begins with the center, smallest doll, which could also be seen as our “original self.” As we progress through all of life’s trials and tribulations, layer after layer of dolls cover the center. He breaks it down into 3 categories.
The outermost layer: Our adapted adult-child that we present today.
The middle layers: Defense mechanisms we develop to protect the parts of our original self.
The core: Our original child self, wounded to the extent we felt no choice but to subconsciously protect it with layer after layer over the years. We may not even know who that person is anymore.
Is the person we are today wrong? This “adapted adult-child” sounds harsh, while still quite understandable. Is that original, core child version of myself still somewhere deep inside? What if I like the person I’m becoming? Is that delegitimized by it being a result of defense mechanisms from my hurt inner self? This, of course, causes me to dive into self reflection. It was astounding just how many parts of myself I was able to tie back to some kind of trauma, pain, or hardship. I suddenly find myself looking at a young version of me, the origin of my adult self, the kid who just wanted to be seen and loved. It even took me a while to recognize that version of myself, with scattered memories vaguely validating my own history.
Is that “finding ourselves?” What do we do once we find that child within us? Consider Faye’s case, was the girl in the tape her “actual” self? Was that version of herself begging to be the one in the driver’s seat again, that Faye has found herself when that’s the case? Well, as she said to her future self, that’s not correct. They are both her only self. The Faye of that moment knew life brings change, as it does for all of us, and accepted her place in her own story’s chronology. We are a different person today than we were yesterday, let alone years in the past. That’s not a bad thing either. It’s about understanding that old self through the lessons you’ve learned along the way. You extend your hand out to your hurt younger self, clean them up, get to know them, and accept them as a part of you. You carry them with you as you do with every lesson you learn, each a crucial piece of your only self. With it will come reminders of pain and emotion, but through that reminiscence you are given a deeper self understanding.
I believe this emphasizes the importance of sentimentality. I’ve collected mementos throughout my life, each with its own story from a past version of myself that I hold dear to my present. The Jon that those objects are tied to is just as much myself as I am today. Do you have something you hold onto that does the same? Think back to those moments in your life that you still cringe at. Regardless of how you feel about it today, that was still a part of your history. Don’t think of that version of yourself as a completely different person, reframe that thought into an acceptance of that point in time where your only self learned and grew. You get to own your entire story. We can take pride in the journey of our only self.
Don’t forget, your younger, only self is cheering for you, no matter how you were doing then or how you’re doing now. They’re cheering for you, for this very point in time. Let’s learn to accept their cheers and hold them close to our hearts as our only self continues onward through life’s constant flow.
Optimistically,
Jon
