I think trying to understand a person is in some ways a miniature version of trying to understand the world.
First, you try grasping basic elements of personality and behavior to establish some foundation of shared reality, then you get on to building deeper connections through layers of meaning and context.
The logic here is of course a person is perceived as a microcosm of the world, which itself is perceived as a macrocosm of what, exactly?
Neither the microcosm nor the macrocosm are static, both have a fluid quality that would make you think that they're changing yet not changing at the same time.
For example, a person's core identity could remain in tact more or less while their expressions of it evolve, just as the fundamental laws of nature persist even as the universe constantly transforms around us.
There exists in us a profound drive to externalize our internal landscape, getting it out there for others to sense it almost like how you sense it.
This drive bridges the gap between our isolated consciousness and the shared world of human experience, with the hopes of replicating an experience that's subjectively individual.
But this bridge is never perfect.
It's always under construction.
I'm not sure why really other than despite all of us being one and the same at a core level, there exists myriads of subtle barriers and perspective differences that create inevitable distortions between what we intend to express and what others receive.
We express to be understood, to validate our existence through recognition.
The act itself becomes a mirror that shows us aspects of ourselves we couldn't have seen otherwise.
And through the reactions of others, we learn the language of our own depths and gather feedback on our place in the collective consciousness.
These two forces exist in constant dialogue, and the former usually being a byproduct of the latter. Authentic expression naturally creates impressions in others, but problems arise when the process is inverted.
That is, when expression exists purely for impression, we've stepped away from authenticity and into a performance theatre.
Social media has amplified this dynamic, creating environments where the impression overshadows the expression that generated it. Metrics of engagement become more important than the substance of what's shared.
Of course, true expression may certainly seek audience, but it remains anchored in something more essential than approval.
For the most part, it speaks from an inner necessity rather than external reward, even though the line between these motivations often blurs in practice.
Like any meaningful capability, expression develops through stages. At the basic level understanding, we learn to identify and "give name" to our thoughts and feelings and start building fundamental vocabulary of selfhood.
Yet articulation is only the beginning. The more I grow older, the more I realize how language can be restrictive, in the sense that not much can be expressed outside the language of our existing frameworks and cultural constructs.
We are bound by the limitations of the tools we have available, whether they be words, gestures, or artistic mediums.
This is especially true when comparing mainstream and non-mainstream languages. Some cultures have words for concepts that others lack entirely, revealing how deeply our expressive capabilities are tied to our collective understanding.
For example, the Japanese concept of "mono no aware" captures the pathos of things, a sensitivity to the transience of life that has no direct English equivalent.
If the goal is mastery, then not only is technical proficiency needed but also discernment about which tool best serves the particular truth seeking expression is required.
The former can be quite a steep learning curve and I often find myself amazed at the skilled expresser who knows when to amplify and when to whisper, when to clarify and when to leave space for interpretation.
The quality of our intake—what we consume, notice, and contemplate—directly affects what we're capable of expressing.
The moment we focus too intently on being authentic, we risk self-consciousness that undermines the very authenticity we seek.
This could explain why some of our most genuine expressions emerge spontaneously, when we're not overthinking how we're coming across.
In many domains in life, trying too hard almost never works.
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