Can a person change?
“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” Kierkegaard
Perhaps there is a question that precedes the question, “Can A Person Change?” Namely, do we humans have an essential nature… are we born to be a certain way? And therefore destined (or doomed) to remain that way even as we decide at some point in our lives that we wish to transform ourselves for the better (or the worse), i.e., will the real self ultimately prevail over the facsimile self we present to the world?
My life has whirled as a melodrama of alternating triumphs and heartbreaks. When I look back at the events that transpired it is from a distance, a view that encompasses the periphery of the scenes and includes the historical causes of my behavior. The chronology lays out like a textbook, chapter headings as succinct reminders of elation and fall from grace. Thumbing through the text, decades removed from the thundering pulsebeat, it’s clear what gave me pleasure; what gave me pain. My past is my teaching story, revealing contrasting behavior that brought shame and regret, dignity and contentment, refutation and approval. Is it possible, learning from the tutorial of my past, to restructure my life and give it new meaning?
As all of us were, I was born without a choice in the matter, growing into the person I became as ordained by genetics and shaped by environment. The core of pure innocence layered over from the first gasp of sentience with goodness and gore from the palette knives of angels and witches. The result was imprecise and flawed: awkward facsimiles and spurious assemblies of persona and character vying with original constructs and critical expressions of quick wit and inventive intellect. Decades later, the task is to overcome the years of conditioning, the entrenched patterns of behavior, the Pavlovian reactions to imaginary slurs and slights.
The task is not easy; the image is engrained, the layers seemingly impenetrable. It takes some doing to identify the hidden damage, the pentimenti, the earlier images that have been changed and painted over; the craquelure, the cracks underneath the surface; but if we dig down to the canvas the core of who we are will come to light. Over time, with intensive work, restoration Is possible. But change is not preordained. Even though I recognize the consequences and know enough to douse the fuse before the flame reaches the bomb, I still have the impulse to give in to the temptations that led to the highs. I resist, because I am aware of what I am doing, and can identify the triggers. I’m the same person, choosing to behave differently.
These are the changes I’ve made:
I have a new job title: house husband.
I’ve learned I can’t be responsible for someone else’s life.
I’m trying to find my way spiritually.
I’m a more tolerant person; of myself, and of others.
I focus on what’s truly important in a relationship.
I’ve swapped sex, drugs and rock and roll for white wine.
I’m prepared for aging’s debilitating changes.
When it’s my turn to walk down death’s unmarked path I think I’ll be ready.
Full circle back to my uncertain italics re: ‘essential nature.’ Have I ‘changed,’ or merely unfolded protective layers of ersatz pretention, ruffled pride and emotional armor covering a once-innocent heart made wary by life’s cruelties? And giving credence to that scenario, what of it’s opposite, born with a black heart, layered over the years with sweetness and benevolence?
For me, I prefer to abstain from epistemological musing. Babies are born in an explosion of transcendental love. How can it be otherwise; how else to explain the first sight of your son or daughter, an experience that is so strong and awesome that it goes well beyond the range of usual, normal, human understanding, grasp or control. You simply can’t erase that moment no matter how fraught the childhood that follows; the need to love and be loved is an inherent trait of human beings and is the powerful prompt that leads to the unalterable conclusion: yes, a person can change.
Still active at age 91, Howard Englander’s essays guide readers to the realization that growing old can be a rewarding journey filled with joy and profound new discoveries. He is the author of “Embracing Elderhood: The Three Stages of Healthy, Happy and Meaningful Senior Years.” Published in hard copy and digital format, the book is available on Amazon.com and from the publisher, Rowman&Littlefield.com.
For a fascinating read on the matter of can a person change, read the book "Determined: A Science of Life WIthout Free Will" by Robert Sapolsky https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Sapolsky . Sapolsky is "American academic, neuroscientist, and primatologist. He is the John A. and Cynthia Fry Gunn Professor at Stanford University, and is a professor of biology, neurology, and neurosurgery." (Wikipedia). I find him convincing that there is no free will; however, as I understand it, that doesn't mean we can't seem to change, just that even our changing is predetermined. So I guess one could then ask, practically speaking, what does it matter? We still just go on living our lives determined by our genes and human histories and make up while believing we have free will.