Impressions, redux

It’s funny, the impressions people get. (I also think the impressions people think they’re giving are funny, too, but that’s for another day, okay?) Those notions, images, presumptions — all that is taken in by the senses and distilled by their mind’s personality to then produce an impression — those are *reality* to the perceiver. It doesn’t matter if it’s factual, only whether it’s perceived to be. Because, our perception or impression becomes real to us, regardless of “truth,” so it is part of our reality. This guy’s reality and that guy’s reality are both very, very real — yet they are probably not congruent, only overlapping here and there….

This is my own theory of reality-abstraction relativity. An impression isn’t merely strict, raw data . . . it’s malleable information that is balled into a shape which is pleasing to the impressee’s mind’s-eye, although not necessarily to the impressor. “Pleasing” might actually incorporate anti-aesthetics, being as the impressee might need to view us in a negative light. What’s more, an impression inevitably serves to poultice the impressee’s insecurity sores, so it rarely has much at all to do with the impressor, usually just setting them in a position of ethical or situational or decisional incompetence. Hence, there are many bad impressions tucked away in people’s heads….

I’m a pleaser-person; that’s my strongest personality trait. I came by it honestly, and my harsh rearing certainly didn’t undermine that tendency — it fed it. As a result of this, I am quite susceptible to the impressions of myself that people have manufactured. I feel some slight need to be appreciated — as does everyone — yet I want to please people, too, so… there’s a conflict. Because the person whom I want myself to be isn’t necessarily going to be the person someone else thinks ‘should be’ me. In fact, that’s hardly ever the case.

I knew my path had finally crossed the “maturity” orbit, the day I let someone carry away an impression of myself that I knew was negative and which I felt was probably inaccurate. I just let ‘em put it in their pocket and take it home to stroke and massage…. In fact, I reveled in their potential mistake a little. So what if they believe something concerning me that I don’t believe myself? Does the equitable world then end? NO. Who cares if his / her painting of me doesn’t jibe with my own self-portrait? Time still marches on, and I can’t let myself get bogged down in some other artist’s paint….

The act of taking or giving impressions isn’t reprehensible, in and of itself. It’s just something we silly ol’ humans do. Fuck it! But I think we can gauge a measure of our happiness on how much concern we have for those impressions. Whether that concern is termed “pride” or “vanity” or “self-absorption” or whatever sin you’d care to label it… the departure from it is a healthy one. As for myself, I learned to try to disregard the impressions people might be taking — when I realized that I couldn’t trust my own perceptions and that I’d been taking impressions that fit my standards rather than the other person’s….

So, go ye forth and look, with new eyes, upon the wonder that is the world. “Momma, take the coins from my eyes, ’cause I surely don’t believe what I am seeing!”  Try, just for a little while, to make a conscious effort to step out of *your* shoes, and into someone else’s.  Look at yourself through their eyes, instead of at them through yours.  You might be amazed at the impression you’re giving, instead of being so adrift in the impression you’re getting.
Tioraidh!

Advertisement