As I see it, the ultimate aim of human self-actualization is not some godlike state of disembodied transcendence, but a mode of consciousness and active life that I call creative authority. This mode of existence is, in fact, one of the outstanding powers attributed to, and glorified in, our numerous representations of god through the millenniums. However, more consistent with a constructivist and evolutionary approach to religion, the construct of god (as metaphor and literary figure) has served to project and focus our aspirations on what is waking within us. The creative authority depicted in our gods, then, is really the higher self calling us forward.
In this post I will not criticize the various ways that corrupt religion has actually interfered with our evolutionary progress as a species, but rather how certain developments in our larger culture have managed to push us away from the ideal of creative authority and deeper into a mindset of dependency. As long as we persist in this mindset – and there are seductive incentives for doing so – we will be prevented from becoming fully human.
Creative authority is about choosing our response to life as it comes, and making choices that move us deeper into the life we really want. Choice (as my diagram shows) combines the freedom to choose with responsibility for the choices we make. While freedom without responsibility may be the fantasy of adolescence, creative authority keeps the two always together.
It is a mark of maturity – and, I would add, self-actualization – when the individual begins freely choosing and taking responsibility for the life he or she chooses.
The general trend of Western culture, however, especially in the last hundred years, has been to convert the individual away from creative authority and into a very different mode of consciousness. Instead of cultivating the identity of one whose inner life is filled with creative energy, talent, intelligence and possibility, a product of this conversion regards him- or herself as empty inside, an energy sink that must perpetually be filled as it becomes depleted. What would otherwise mature in the direction of a self-identified creator gets identified by the culture as a consumer.
A consumer, therefore, is the exact opposite of a creator: not inside-out but outside-in defines the flow of energy, life, spirit and value. A creator enjoys the freedom and accepts responsibility for constructing meaning, making connections, and managing a personal world. Under the spell of the Great Machine, a consumer by contrast looks outward (since there’s nothing inside anyway) for what will fill the void within, satisfy the craving, and make him or her whole again.
There is an obvious marketing strategy in all of this: as long as an individual believes that something essential is missing inside, and that his or her only option is to look outside the self for completion, the retail possibilities are limitless.
Once the trance of consumer identity is accomplished, the next (and logical) step is to take on the role of patient. From the Latin pati, a patient is not just someone who suffers, but who passively suffers – someone to whom unfortunate things happen. Again, we should note the divergence of this idea from the self-concept of a creator who takes responsibility for the meaning constructed around pain and loss, as well as for the path back to health. While a patient waits on salvation from outside, a creator is actively engaged as a co-operator in the process.
As long as the individual remains passive in the treatment process, the Great Machine and its retinue of ‘experts’ can diagnose, prescribe, and perform their magic – for that is the mystique it has to the patient’s mind – on their inert subject. The patient is needy, not resourceful; and the goal of treatment is palliative (bringing temporary relief), not really curative (promoting chronic health). Once brought into the system as a patient, an individual can be expected to remain in this compliant state indefinitely – at least until the symptoms are gone.
Oftentimes the underlying problem is rooted in a patient’s mind-body balance, personal lifestyle, stage of life, or philosophy of existence – in other words, things in which the individual really does have options and should take an active role. Making the necessary changes here would truly make a lasting difference. This would suggest that the patient somehow has a choice in the matter, that he or she has some measure of creative authority in the way things are. But let’s not forget: the passive sufferer is empty inside and utterly dependent upon salvation from beyond.
It’s one more fateful step that lands an individual in the self-identity of a victim. I’m not talking about obvious cases where innocent and defenseless persons are abused, exploited, or attacked. Terrorists are partly empowered by our anxiety over not being made victims, and unsuspecting bystanders who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time are victims in a straightforward sense.
Just as our self-identity as patients is implicit to our identity as consumers, so too is a belief in our own helplessness as victims implied in our passive mode of waiting on help from outside. When the required assistance or promised solution doesn’t come, in the expected form and on time, we are ready to cry out our protest as victims of malpractice, discrimination, or criminal neglect. Never mind that our demand was exaggerated and unrealistic to begin with, given that it came out of the conviction of our own impotence. We are entitled to what reality owes us, and reality owes us a lot.
By this slow and steady slide, then, we have been converted from creators to consumers, from consumers to patients, and from patients to victims: mired in a culture of dependency. Whereas our creative authority would put us in a very different relationship to life, others, and the world around us, this increasing dependency has only managed to cut us off from our own true nature, from one another, and from the present mystery of reality.
The truth is, we are not empty, needy, and helpless. Our self-actualization intends to move us into greater freedom and responsibility, into a wider empathy and a larger community, into a deeper center and a higher wisdom. In the process we become more fully human.
Tracts of Revolution 