Stop Staring At Your Navel
We can prioritize individuality as well as communality.
I lack inspiration today—everything feels boring to think about, so I’ve generated some questions to prompt my threateningly calm mind. What have I learned? What do people want to hear? What do I have to say, or feel like saying? How can I write from the heart?
What do I have to offer?
That last question holds something—it’s one I’ve been asking myself more frequently. Rather than asking what I’m getting out of something, I’m turning it around to ask what I can offer this situation or person. What do I have to give, here, and how do I feel about that?
I’ve been trying to spin my proclivity toward navel-gazing to gazing outward.
“Definitions from Oxford Languages ·
na·vel-gaz·ing /ˈnāvəl ɡāziNG/ noun: navel-gazing
self-indulgent or excessive contemplation of oneself or a single issue, at the expense of a wider view.”
Do you, too, spend too much time excessively contemplating yourself or your problems? I could theorize for a moment about why gazing at our navels is so customary: we are encouraged to always be and stay “authentic” and thus must discover who that “authentic self” is; we are to some extent selfish by nature; Western culture generally prioritizes and materially rewards doggedly individualistic pursuits. Social media revolves around self-image, and we curate it so that other people may perceive us in favorable ways—which involves looking at yourself, all the time.
Also, contemplating who you are and what you want can be helpful.
Self-inquiry is a worthy and important part of cultivating a healthy inner world, and saves us from operating on auto-pilot. Without regular self-inquiry or introspection, we may go decades until waking up and realizing that we’ve “abandoned our true desires”, or are living a “lie”, or experiencing another dramatic wake-up call that reveals to our conscious awareness that we haven’t been listening to what we really, deeply want. There is a supportive amount of self-inquiry; it’s ok to stare at your navel sometimes.
And yet, for every worthy endeavor there exists a shadow side: introspection and self-inquiry can be detrimental. It is no secret for people who suffer from more-anxiety-than-is-necessary that thinking too much about yourself can feed poor self-image. People who are overly anxious are often also overly critical of themselves. Ruminating on your life choices can prevent you from reaching out of your mental drama and connecting with people.
Are we spending too much time thinking about ourselves? To avoid sweeping generalizations, which individualism hates, you can just ask yourself: are you thinking too much about yourself and your problems?
It’s worth considering that instead of looking inward, look out. We’d do well to remind ourselves to assess not what we are getting out of someone or something, but what we have to give someone or something. Instead of how we feel about what we’re getting—how do we feel about what we are able to offer? Can we focus on the needs of others, instead of exclusively focusing on meeting our own?
This attitude would serve us better in creating the kinds of communities and relationships we say we want: ones built on symbiosis, and generosity, and reciprocity.
Individualism and agency is a value most of us hold, and this is ok. But we live here in this world with other people, and most us want to build community and families. Humans are social creatures, and symbiotic social connection is the bedrock for a healthy society. Making genuine contact with people should be of utmost priority—and this means we don’t stare at ourselves all day. Let us not be caught in the trendy web of evaluating every interaction based on whether it crosses our boundaries or not. Let us be of service to those we love, and watch how that transforms our lives.
That good, gray, nuanced ground in between.
Of course it’s important to ask yourself what you’re getting out of something before saying yes to it. We’ve all got to think about whether an opportunity or person is worthy of our time and energy. But, too much focus on our personal interests may isolate us from the kinds of rewarding relationships we want. Prioritizing our personal satisfaction in every given moment isn’t always possible, and if it is, it’s not always the option we want to choose. Thinking about what other people need, and how they feel, is bound to help us get out of our mental drama, as well as connect us more deeply to them.
There is room for us to pursue individuality and communality. I wonder what will happen if we seek a balance of both.
Stop staring at your navel all day!
What do I have to offer here, and how do I feel about that?
Maggie