随笔 · Essays
我认知的“自我”The “Self” as I Understand It
中文
今天读书的时候，读到了关于“自我”的定义。今年 6 月，我写下过一句“回归自我”。现在看来，这个说法可能不太妥当，因为“自我”并不是一个固定不变的个体，它不是真实存在的，它是一种状态，一个空。
什么是 twd？现在手上的碗摔碎了，会重新买一个的是 twd；小时候棒棒糖摔在地上，会伤心的也是 twd。会自嘲工作很水，但如果真听到别人这么说，还是会伤心的是 twd；未曾拥有过，却仍然有执念的，也是 twd。
这都是我，但没有哪一个样子能完全定义我。这都是我，但我能说“回归自我”吗，不太妥当，这个“回归自我”应该是空的、轻盈的自己？回归自己刚来到世界上的时候。
人刚来到这个世界时，还没有后来那套关于“我是谁”的认识。正如我上个 blog 说的，正因为没有自我，随着年龄，我才给“自我”塞东西，这个是我，而且在过程中，“我”是一直在变的，就比如对各种事情的看法，从小到大一直在变，这其实就说明自我本空，就是因为不实有才可以变化。所以自我其实就是我们用人生经验、认知、记忆塞出来的一个东西。
随着“自我”的形成，也逐渐形成了一套自己的标准，有了自己的分别：什么让我不舒服，什么让我舒服。然后，我开始守护这套标准，追逐自己执着的东西。随着成长，见得越来越多，想得越来越多，也一直在往“自我”里塞东西。所以小时候非常的轻盈，内心里是没有东西的，这个自我很淡薄。
也就是说为什么人越活越累：
- 我一直在创造自我，给自我增加东西，又把这些东西认定为不可改变的“我”，于是增加了我执。
- 越来越多的我执，让我越来越执着于自己的分别和标准。当我只接受 A，就会不断与“非 A”发生冲突。越想让世界符合自己的标准，业力的负担就越重。
所以，我一直想守护的那个“自我”，有时就像一个由自己创造出来的执念集合。我把不断变化的东西捏成一个形状，再试图让它保持不变。但实际上，并不存在这样一个固定不变、可以永远守住的“我”。
这样再看“回归自我”，我想回归的，或许不是刚来到世界时的自己，也不是把后来塞进去的东西全部清空，而是松开对这些东西的执着，不再把它们当成对自己的最终定义。
至于我想追寻的“真我”，是否是无生无灭、恒常的，还需要继续想。至少现在，我想放下的，是那个由自己不断捏造、又执意守护的“自我”。我想要的轻盈，也许不是没有经历，而是不再被这些经历定义。
English
While reading today, I came across a definition of the “self.” This June, I wrote the phrase “returning to myself.” Looking back, that may not have been quite the right way to put it. The “self” is not a fixed, unchanging individual. It is not a truly existing entity; it is a state, a kind of emptiness.
What is twd? The person who would buy a new bowl if the one in his hands broke is twd; the child who felt sad when his lollipop fell on the ground was also twd. The person who jokes that his work is superficial, yet still feels hurt when someone else actually says so, is twd. The one who remains attached to things he has never had is also twd.
All of these are me, but none of them can fully define me. They are all me, but can I call it “returning to myself”? That does not seem quite right. Should this “returning to myself” mean returning to an empty, lighter self? Returning to who I was when I first arrived in the world?
When we first enter this world, we do not yet have the understanding of “who I am” that comes later. As I wrote in my previous blog post, it is precisely because there is no self to begin with that, as I grow older, I fill the “self” with things and say: this is me. Throughout that process, “I” keep changing. My views on all kinds of things, for example, have kept changing from childhood to adulthood. To me, this points to the self being empty by nature: it can change precisely because it has no inherent, fixed existence. The self, then, is something we fill with life experiences, understanding, and memories.
As the “self” takes shape, so does a set of personal standards and distinctions: what makes me uncomfortable, and what makes me comfortable. I then start to defend those standards and pursue the things I am attached to. As I grow, I see more, think more, and keep putting more things into the “self.” That is why childhood felt so light: there was little weighing on my mind, and this sense of self was still faint.
This is why life can feel increasingly exhausting:
- I keep creating a self and adding things to it, then treating those things as an unchangeable “me.” In doing so, I strengthen my attachment to the self.
- This growing attachment makes me cling more tightly to my own distinctions and standards. When I accept only A, I keep coming into conflict with “not A.” The more I want the world to conform to my standards, the heavier the burden of karma becomes.
So the “self” I have always wanted to protect sometimes seems like a collection of attachments I have created myself. I mold things that are constantly changing into a shape, then try to keep that shape unchanged. But there is no such fixed, unchanging “me” that I can preserve forever.
Seen this way, “returning to myself” may not mean returning to who I was when I first entered the world, or emptying out everything I have added since. It may mean loosening my attachment to those things and no longer treating them as the final definition of who I am.
Whether the “true self” I hope to find is something that neither arises nor passes away, something constant, is a question I still need to think about. For now, at least, what I want to let go of is the “self” I keep constructing and stubbornly defending. Perhaps the lightness I seek is not a life without experiences, but a life no longer defined by them.