The Lion King was one of my favourite childhood movies. It was one of a few films that my cousins had on VHS and we would watch it on repeat, until we knew all of the words by heart.
My favourite character was always Rafiki the monkey. That guy gives NO f**ks. He’s an incredibly wise shaman, a total oddball and an all-round good time who, on close examination, has a lot to tell us about life, work and leadership. (OK, that might be a step too far, but honestly – that monkey (mandrill, actually) knew what was going on.)
In one memorable scene, Simba’s moping around all depressed and confused and decides to project a bit of his angst at Rafiki. Amused and unfazed Rafiki hits him with:
“I’m not the one who is confused. You’re the one who doesn’t even know who you are!”
Truth-bombs.
Not feeling your feelings is a useful temporary coping mechanism when you're trying to survive and keep going. But just because you don't work with them in the moment, it doesn't mean they've... gone. They're still in there, running your subconscious from the inside.
The data is pretty clear on this one: suppressing your emotions keeps your body in fight or flight mode, which is super bad for your health long-term. It will get you to the end of that big project, sure, but you risk burning out at the end.
There’s a few different theories about why that is, but the prevailing thesis is that when we suppress what’s really going on, we battle with a sense of internal inauthenticity.
Yep. When we’re not ourselves, we fall to bits.
We talk a big game about ‘authenticity’ these days. We tell people to bring their whole self to work, and we praise people who speak out and speak up. We know that genuine interactions at work strengthen our connections to each other and our jobs, make us happier and more productive, and reduces stress levels. But knowing that doesn’t make it easy. And while it would be easy to point the fingers at our bosses and colleagues, there’s a big part of this that’s an internal job.
Owning our reality – messy, disappointing, conflicting or otherwise – is work we do for ourselves. It’s one thing to accept ourselves and value who we are – but it’s another job entirely to admit what needs accepting in the first place.
I reckon a lot of us aren’t quite sure who we are, and what we’re about. We spend so much time worrying about what we should be and crafting narratives about what our lives, values and goals should be, that it’s easy to lose touch with our personal reality. The line between what we post on social media, how we talk to friends (“really good thanks, how are you?”) and what we know to be true starts to blur, and then we shrink and fade.
All this suppression and obfuscation makes life much harder than it has to be, because while we might still experience all the impacts of living out of alignment – a loss of purpose, sense of internal frustration, despair or apathy – we don’t know why.
Really owning our sh*t is hard to do. It needs radical honesty – about the dark and the light – and deep interrogation. We need to work out why we’re like this, what we really want, what’s working and what’s broken in a way that isn’t guided by shoulds, musts and have-tos.
On the one hand, this is a life’s work, and it’s never going to be done. On the other, you can pick up a notebook and a pen, sit somewhere quiet, and start right now.
When we know what’s important to us, what our values are, what our interests are and what our boundaries look like, we can make decisions that are in alignment with our authentic selves.
When we truly understand what we’re about, it becomes easier to care about our work – and to identify when we’re not fired up by it. We can spot situations that put us out of our personal moral code, and take action to stop it. We can put less effort into behaving the way others expect us to, with a renewed sense of confidence in our own conviction.
Because here’s the lightbulb moment: authenticity is not intrinsically valuable. Authenticity without legs is just introspection. What it needs, to be useful is accountability, followed by action.
What’s the use in being authentically messed up, if we don’t address what needs to change, and take a step in the right direction?
What’s the use in showing our deepest and darkest sides to anyone if we don’t intend to do anything about them?
Authenticity in isolation is impotent. But when we sprinkle in some accountability, and move toward action, magic happens. We take ownership of our lives. We take responsibility for our problems and our goals in equal measure, and we open the door to change.
So, if you’re falling to bits, or trying to come back together, make some space for bigger questions. They won’t have easy answers, and being honest with yourself and others is unlikely to be the easy path.
But it’s less work than remembering to be somebody else all the time, and even if you wind up broke and friendless for a while, you’ll definitely sleep easier.
Til next week,
A