The Curious Case of Influence VS Inspired Self Reflection
Influence. Oscar Wilde has said in his novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, that influencing another person is invading upon them a part of your soul. Poisoning them with your ideas and your beliefs, and impressing upon them notions and urges which are unnatural to themselves.
Chuck Palahniuk wrote in Invisible Monsters, "I am the combined effort of everybody I've ever known." He expresses that who we are is just a collection of fragments of features and follies from both our friends and our foes.
Within each of us lies our true ideals and impulses, and too easily are we conquered by the beliefs of others. To me, the more I look around, the more I see this to be true. It's happened often where the thoughts I've expressed in conversation with a friend I've later heard to be re-stated by them as passionately and proudly as if the were their own. And I'm positive such situations have occurred in my own words as well.
You can already tell that while Wilde did not invade me with his statements on beauty, as I'll explain, he did influence me with his writing style. For I do not usually write with such properness and grandeur, but after reading his words I cannot escape the power of his impressions. At least temporarily.
Why is this? How do we stop such invading influences? How do we escape the ideas of our acquaintances?
I suppose the only way to be one's true self is to learn who we really are. To know what we believe in our souls, and not the ideals of others. I've written before of the morals that we uphold, not because we are truly certain of them, but simply because they've been pressed upon us repeatedly. Until by sheer repetition of words, it has become our instinct to look down on those who lie and cheat, and those who are too bold with statements and insults. But it's these moments of brutal honesty which are the glimpses of one's true self.
Exploring the soul of ourselves is a frightening and difficult task. Looking inward is undeniably harder that looking outward. For a surface example of this, I'll use my own situation.
I am a filmmaker, or perhaps in a delusion of grandeur, I fancy myself as one, and I spend a plethora of my time watching films. I view at least one a day, usually two, and still often, three or more. But how many films do I make? A pitiful number no doubt. I have made no feature films, but have seen over eight hundred. I ingest so many stories and dramas and messages without creating any of my own. Do you see what I mean about looking outward being simpler than inward? Can you think of something in your life where you act similarly?
This what I mean by learning about others, and how much more common it is than learning about ourselves.
It's not so simple to explore the unmapped terrain of oneself. I for one, cannot simply sit down and say, "Today I'm going to learn who I truly am." This would be perhaps a form of meditation. Maybe the people who do meditate can achieve this immediate state of self learning, I do not know. But for myself (and probably the average person of my young age) solitude in itself does not grant self-exploration.
When I am alone, I do think of many things, often in a fiery and eager state, but usually the ideas I explore are not of myself.
As an activity it may seem vain to sit and ponder one's own soul, and it can quickly lead to doubts and debates of the importance of one's existence, but this is not the dilemma of which I wish to speak.
So you may ask, what does inspire me to delve into the mysterious mountains of my true mind?
Usually, and ironically, it is the outer influence of other's ideals. But it's not the same obtrusive poison of which I spoke earlier. It is not the drop of pigment which, once mixed into the paint of one's soul, cannot be extracted. But it is more a dollop of paint set before you, so shiny that in the surface, a colour of your own soul is reflected.
I apologize if I've become too metaphorical. What I mean to say is that by hearing of someone else's opinions, I am often able to learn of my own. For example, in my reading of the first part of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde has already mentioned much about youth and beauty. He speaks of how Beauty is a form of Genius greater than Genius itself, for it is undeniable and divine. This is something that struck a chord with me. I realized that in my heart, I mostly agreed with his words. That physical beauty, of art, of animals, of humans, and appreciating it is an ideal that I hold dear and truly believe in.
To further explain that this is not something that I've simply absorbed from outward influence, I'll clarify what was attempted to be impressed upon me. The common people (people that I run into in my daily life) have often expressed emotions of hate toward the standards of beauty that we have today. And I have always disagreed. I think that fashion and photography is a modern way of appreciating the human form. And the widespread deliverance of these images of gorgeous people should not be scorned as harshly as it is.
That is to say, I don't think that women or men should see themselves as unappealing if they're not a likening of the famous beauties. But the "perfect" people do give us something to strive towards, if we're so inclined. They should be seen as a form of inspiration for personal fitness, if one is needed, or at least as a living, human example of art.
The individuals are to be appreciated and celebrated, and not ridiculed for making physical beauty a priority. But enough, I forget myself.
I hope you understand what I mean about the difference between influence and inspired self reflection.
Perhaps that's another reason why I watch so many films; I hope that some with start the trains of thought that lead me to learn about myself. Because our interpretations of art reveal more about ourselves than they do the works, or the creator of them.
I implore you to look deeper into yourself, and more often. Try to differentiate the seeds of ideas that are yours, and the buds that have been planted by those around you. Try to explore your uncharted terrains, and as you find the hidden coves and overturn each moss-covered rock, share it with the world. Convert what you know into art. Into pictures and books and paintings. Into conversations with friends. And hopefully, the consumers of your work are strong enough not to be influenced, but inspired.
