Journey to Accept Otherness

By Matt | Published on  

Growing up, I always felt like I didn’t quite fit in. My dad was white and from Cornwall, and my mom was black and from Zimbabwe. Even the idea of us as a family was challenging for most people. But nature had its way, and I was born a brown baby. However, by the time I was five, I was already aware that I was different. I was the black atheist kid in the all-white Catholic school run by nuns. My self was rooting around for definition, trying to plug in. But the more I tried to fit in, the more I felt like I didn’t belong.

The idea of self is a projection based on other people’s projections, but is it really who we are? As I grew older, I realized that my self was a constant projection that changed based on other people’s opinions and ideas. I tried to take my self out into the world, but it was rejected over and over again, causing me to feel anxious, shameful, and hopeless. I became defined by otherness, and in that social world, I didn’t feel like I existed.

But then something amazing happened. I discovered performance and dancing. When I was dancing, that nagging feeling of self-hood didn’t exist. I would lose myself in the movement, and I was a really good dancer. When I earned my first acting role in a film at 16, I felt a peace that I had never felt before. I was able to plug into another self, not my own, and it felt amazing. For the first time, I existed inside a fully-functioning self that I controlled, steered, and gave life to.

But the shooting day would end, and I’d return to my gnarly, awkward self. I was still searching for definition. That’s when I applied to read anthropology at university. In my interview, Dr. Phyllis Lee challenged my definition of race. She explained that race has no basis in biological or scientific fact, and that we all stem from Africa. In other words, my definition of self just lost a huge chunk of its credibility.

But the thing is, we’ve created entire value systems and a physical reality to support the worth of self, even though it’s just a projection that our clever brains create in order to cheat ourselves from the reality of death. The key to my success as an actor and my progress as a person has been the very lack of self that used to make me feel so anxious and insecure.

I’ve learned to live more and more from my essence, and if you can do that, incredible things happen. I’ve danced and celebrated with women who’ve survived the destruction of their selves in Congo. It made me realize that we’re not living with each other, our crazy selves are living with each other and perpetuating an epidemic of disconnection. But if we can get under that heavy self, light a torch of awareness, and find our essence, we can connect to the infinite and every other living thing.

Let’s not be freaked out by our bountiful nothingness. It’s more a reality than the ones our selves have created. Imagine what kind of existence we can have if we honor the inevitable death of self, appreciate the privilege of life, and marvel at what comes next. It all starts with simple awareness.

Have you ever wondered about the concept of self? Do you believe that the person you see in the mirror is who you really are? According to my experiences, the self is just a projection that our brains create to navigate the social world. It’s based on other people’s opinions and ideas about us, and it changes constantly.

As a child, I felt like I didn’t fit in. I was the black atheist kid in an all-white Catholic school. I was different, and I didn’t know where I belonged. It wasn’t until I discovered performance and dancing that I felt like I could lose myself. When I acted, I was able to inhabit another self, not my own, and it felt amazing.

But the shooting day would end, and I’d return to my gnarly, awkward self. I was still searching for definition. It wasn’t until I applied to read anthropology at university that I began to understand the illusion of self. Dr. Phyllis Lee challenged my definition of race, explaining that it has no basis in biological or scientific fact.

The idea of self is a projection based on other people’s projections, but is it really who we are? As I grew older, I realized that my self was a constant projection that changed based on other people’s opinions and ideas. I tried to take my self out into the world, but it was rejected over and over again, causing me to feel anxious, shameful, and hopeless. I became defined by otherness, and in that social world, I didn’t feel like I existed.

But the key to my success as an actor and my progress as a person has been the very lack of self that used to make me feel so anxious and insecure. By living more and more from my essence, I was able to connect with others and every other living thing. It all starts with simple awareness. If we can get under that heavy self, light a torch of awareness, and find our essence, we can connect to the infinite and marvel at what comes next.

Let’s not be freaked out by our bountiful nothingness. It’s more a reality than the ones our selves have created. Imagine what kind of existence we can have if we honor the inevitable death of self, appreciate the privilege of life, and live in oneness with every other living thing.

Growing up biracial, I always felt like I didn’t quite fit in. My dad was white from Cornwall, and my mom was black from Zimbabwe, and our family was seen as an anomaly by most people. From a young age, I was aware that I was different, and I struggled to find my place in the world.

As I got older, I realized that the idea of self is just a projection based on other people’s projections. It’s not who we really are, but rather a tool that our brains create to navigate the social world. Our little portion of oneness is given a name and all kinds of ideas and opinions about ourselves that become “facts” that go towards building our identity.

However, this sense of self can be limiting and can cause us to feel anxious, shameful, and hopeless. I experienced this firsthand when I tried to take my self out into the world and was rejected over and over again. I felt defined by my otherness, and in that social world, I didn’t feel like I existed.

It wasn’t until I discovered performance and dancing that I felt like I could lose myself. In those moments, I was connected to everything - the ground, the air, the sounds, and the energy from the audience. I was earthed in my essence, and my self was suspended. When I acted, I was able to inhabit another self, not my own, and it felt so good.

I realized that the key to my success as an actor and my progress as a person has been the very lack of self that used to make me feel so anxious and insecure. By living more and more from my essence, I was able to connect with others and every other living thing.

We all stem from Africa, from a woman called Mitochondrial Eve who lived 160,000 years ago. Race is an illegitimate concept that our selves have created based on fear and ignorance. We need to hug oneness and realize that the self’s struggle for authenticity and definition will never end unless it’s connected to its creator - to you and me.

Let’s live with each other and take it a breath at a time. If we can get under that heavy self, light a torch of awareness, and find our essence, we can connect to the infinite and marvel at what comes next. The cracks have started to show in our constructed world, and we must figure out how to live in oneness with the Earth and every other living thing. Only then can we appreciate the privilege of life and honor the inevitable death of self.

As humans, we are all born with a sense of oneness, a feeling of being part of everything and not separate from it. However, this sense of oneness is quickly lost, and we begin to form an idea of self. Our little portion of oneness is given a name, and we start to build our identity based on the opinions and ideas that others tell us about ourselves.

The self becomes the vehicle for navigating our social world, but it is merely a projection based on other people’s projections. We may ask ourselves, is this projection who we really are, or who we really want to be? For Thandie Newton, the interaction with self and identity was difficult growing up, as the self she attempted to take out into the world was rejected over and over again.

In her journey to understanding and acceptance, Thandie came to realize that the self is not constant, and she stopped giving it so much authority. She respects her self and its function, but she’s not ashamed of it. She learned to live more and more from her essence, which is a connection to the infinite and every other living thing.

If we can get under the heavy self, light a torch of awareness, and find our essence, we can live with each other and take it a breath at a time. We knew it from the day we were born. Let’s not be freaked out by our bountiful nothingness, for it’s more of a reality than the ones our selves have created. Imagine what kind of existence we can have if we honor the inevitable death of self, appreciate the privilege of life, and marvel at what comes next. Simple awareness is where it begins.

Growing up as the child of a white Cornish father and a black Zimbabwean mother in 1970s England was a challenge for Thandie Newton. Even the idea of her family was challenging to most people, but nature had its way, and brown babies were born. However, from the age of five, Thandie was aware that she didn’t fit in. She was the black atheist kid in an all-white Catholic school run by nuns, an anomaly trying to find her place.

For Thandie, the self likes to fit, to see itself replicated, and to belong. But her skin color, hair, and history were not right, and her self became defined by otherness. This meant that in that social world, she didn’t really exist, and she was “other” before being anything else. Even before being a girl, she was a noticeable nobody, struggling to plug into her surroundings and find her identity.

However, Thandie discovered another world that helped her to escape the nagging dread of self-hood - performance and dancing. When she danced, she would literally lose herself and put all her emotional expression into her movements. She could be in the moment in a way that she couldn’t be in her real life, in herself. And when she earned her first acting role in a film at 16, she could finally exist inside a fully-functioning self - one that she controlled, steered, and gave life to.

The key to Thandie’s success as an actor and progress as a person was the lack of self that used to make her feel anxious and insecure. By realizing and really understanding that the self is a projection based on other people’s projections, she stopped giving it so much authority. She respected her self and its function, but she was no longer ashamed of it. Instead, she tried to live more and more from her essence, the infinite connection to everything and every other living thing.

Hugging otherness is hugging oneself, and Thandie’s journey to understanding and acceptance has given her insight into the whole notion of self. With awareness of the reality of oneness and the projection of self-hood, incredible things can happen. Let’s not be freaked out by our bountiful nothingness, for it’s more of a reality than the ones our selves have created. Simple awareness is where it begins.

Growing up on the coast of England in the 70s, I quickly realized that I didn’t fit in. As a mixed-race child attending an all-white Catholic school run by nuns, I felt like an anomaly. I was different from the other kids, and my self was always searching for definition and trying to plug in.

The idea of self and identity was a difficult one for me. The self that I attempted to take out into the world was rejected over and over again. My panic at not having a self that fit, and the confusion that came from my self being rejected, created anxiety, shame, and hopelessness. It was a challenging journey towards understanding and acceptance of myself.

I realized that the self is a projection based on other people’s projections. It’s a vehicle for navigating our social world but is it who we really are? Or who we really want to be, or should be? The self is not constant and changes constantly. How many times would my self have to die before I realized that it was never alive in the first place?

Through my experiences as an actor and dancer, I found that the key to my success and progress as a person has been the very lack of self that used to make me feel so anxious and insecure. I always wondered why I could feel others’ pain so deeply, why I could recognize the somebody in the nobody. It’s because I didn’t have a self to get in the way.

The thing that was a source of shame was actually a source of enlightenment. And when I realized and really understood that my self is a projection and that it has a function, a funny thing happened. I stopped giving it so much authority.

The power of oneness and connection to our essence can give the self ultimate and infinite connection. When we lose ourselves, we are earthed in our essence, and our self is suspended. In those moments, we are connected to everything. And when we inhabit another self, we give it life for a while, because when the self is suspended, so is divisiveness and judgment.

If we can get under that heavy self, light a torch of awareness, and find our essence, our connection to the infinite and every other living thing, we can marvel at what comes next. Simple awareness is where it begins. Let’s honor the inevitable death of self, appreciate the privilege of life, and imagine what kind of existence we can have.

The idea of hugging otherness as a means of hugging oneself is one that I can personally relate to. Growing up, I struggled with my own sense of identity, particularly in regards to my race and religion. It was challenging to navigate a world where my background and beliefs were not the norm, and I often felt like I didn’t quite fit in.

As I listened to the speaker’s words, I was struck by her description of the self as a projection based on other people’s projections. It made me reflect on how much of my own identity was shaped by external factors, and how much agency I truly had in defining who I am.

I found it particularly powerful when the speaker described the feeling of losing oneself in dance and acting, and how in those moments, the self is suspended and we are able to connect with a sense of oneness. It reminded me of the importance of finding ways to tap into our essence and connect with the world around us.

The speaker’s message about the harm of perpetuating an epidemic of disconnection really hit home for me. In a world where we are constantly bombarded with messages that prioritize individual success and achievement, it can be easy to forget about our interconnectedness with others and the planet as a whole.

Overall, the speaker’s journey to understanding and acceptance serves as a powerful reminder of the importance of hugging otherness and connecting with our essence in order to truly live a fulfilling and meaningful life.

Hugging otherness means accepting people who are different from you in some way, whether it’s their culture, religion, race, sexual orientation, or any other aspect of their identity. It’s about recognizing that everyone has something unique to offer, and that our differences can improve our lives and make us stronger as a society.

For me, the journey to understanding and acceptance started when I was a child. I grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other, and there wasn’t much diversity. But even in that homogenous environment, I encountered people who were different from me. I remember feeling curious and fascinated by the way they lived and the things they believed.

As I got older and started to travel more, I realized that the world is much more diverse than I ever imagined. I met people from all walks of life, and I saw firsthand how much beauty and richness there is in different cultures and ways of thinking.

But I also saw how much pain and suffering can be caused by intolerance and ignorance. I saw people being discriminated against and marginalized simply because they were different. And I knew that this was wrong.

So I started to make a conscious effort to learn more about other people’s experiences and perspectives. I read books, watched documentaries, and had conversations with people who had different backgrounds than me. And through these experiences, I gained a deeper understanding and appreciation for the diversity of human experience.

I learned that it’s not enough to just tolerate otherness; we need to actively hug it. We need to seek out opportunities to learn from and engage with people who are different from us. We need to challenge our own assumptions and biases, and be willing to have our perspectives shifted.

Ultimately, hugging otherness is about recognizing our shared humanity. It’s about seeing beyond the surface-level differences and connecting with people on a deeper level. It’s about creating a world where everyone is valued and respected, regardless of their background or identity. And I truly believe that this is a world worth striving for.

Hugging otherness is a journey that we must all take, no matter where we come from or what our experiences have been. Learning to understand and accept those who are different from us can be challenging, but it is essential for building a more inclusive and compassionate world. As we have seen through the memories shared in this post, it is possible to transform our fear and discomfort into empathy and respect.

By listening to the stories of others and approaching new experiences with an open mind, we can expand our understanding of the world and the people in it. It is through this process that we can begin to break down the barriers that divide us and create a more harmonious and equitable society.

So let us hug the diversity that surrounds us and strive to understand and appreciate the richness it brings to our lives. Let us work together to build a world where all people are valued and respected, regardless of their race, ethnicity, religion, gender, sexuality, or any other characteristic that makes them unique. Together, we can create a better future for ourselves and for generations to come.