Selfishness vs. “Soulishness”

If I had to describe my moral philosophy as succinctly as possible, I'd say I'm a responsible hedonist.

If I were allowed some extra phrases, I'd tack on a few cliches that have always resonated with me, such as:

*reach for the stars

*All are One

*truth is beauty, and beauty, truth

*the unexamined life isn't worth living

You'll notice that self-sacrifice isn't a big component in my philosophy of life.

Maybe people will say nice things about me after I'm dead, but I'm willing to bet that selfless won't be among them.

So I've got to warn you that everything I have to say in this post should be viewed with suspicion. Dish yourself up a nice pile of salt before you read on.

My guess is that most hedonists are met with accusations of selfishness. And the more unapologetic the hedonist, the more outraged the accusations become.

If people already perceive you as selfish, you're probably asking for trouble if you reveal that you are polyamorous.

When my mother-in-law first found out that Parker and I had an open marriage, she was pretty upset about it. Here was her take on the situation, communicated via an email she sent to me and Parker in May 2003:

I’ve been thinking about you constantly the last couple of days, not sure exactly what to say and then stymied further by my computer, which at first was speechless and then seemed to have suffered a nervous breakdown, printing out an endless string of 2’s. Maybe it was a sign.

To me, the rules of a bad marriage (rules I learned first-hand) are pretty simple. Think of yourself first. Be unwilling to be devoted to both the other person and to the idea and realities of marriage. Finally, rationalize your desires and behaviors to get what you want.

...

If I’m being honest I might as well really go for it. I rarely see you put [Denali] first. I rarely see you put anyone else first. What I see, often, are two people who don’t know how to sacrifice and do know how to get what they want, who know how to always be right.

Yes, most people get bored in relationships at some point. The mature ones, I imagine, try to find outlets that do no harm.

I love both of you. I have been so happy and grateful that you found each other. Is it worth risking love and family for whatever this other thing is?

My mother-in-law is no longer as upset as she was, so her opinions may have softened a bit. She might even say I've improved somewhat in the past eight years. But I'm sure she still thinks I'm selfish.

I probably am selfish.

And, as we all know, being selfish is a bad thing. Right?

Whenever I imagine myself successfully rooting out my selfishness, though, I feel like I'm imagining myself out of existence. I picture myself in some Mother Teresa capacity, and what I see is a shell of a person, someone without a soul.

So I'd like to posit that there are two types of selfishness, the bad kind and the good kind. Thanks to Lilianna & Robin for coming up with the term “soulishness” to describe the well-dignified version of selfishness. As for the ill-dignified version, I'm going to use a ready-made term: egotism.

You see, it all depends on what you conceive of as your self.

If you mistake your self for your ego, you're always going to be operating within the narrow confines of your psychic survival structure. You're probably not going to be capable of seeing anyone else's point of view. There are people who need to feel selfless in order to appease their own egos, and these are the type who pitch a fit when others fail to acknowledge their thoughtfulness. I've met some pretty selfish martyrs in my time.

If, on the other hand, you recognize that your real self is something that transcends your ego, you may have moments of grace in which you are capable of real compassion. There's an expansiveness to this soulish self, an inclusiveness. But – and this is important – this is a self that includes the body. I'm not talking Cartesian splits, here. The transcendent experience I'm trying to describe is when the whole self, body included, expands to include someone or something that is otherwise mistaken for “not me.”

I have found it immensely helpful to have some terms that help me distinguish between the kind of selfishness that keeps me small and the kind that allows me to grow. Unfortunately, I'll probably never manage to rid myself of the bad kind altogether. My own brand of selfishness is, and will probably remain, a confusing mix of egotism and soulishness. Still, as a responsible hedonist, I try to ask myself the question, “Is fulfilling this desire going to feed my soul – or is it merely going to whet the appetite of my insatiable ego?” And when I'm seeing the answer clearly, I tend to choose what's right.