On authenticity

A recent article by Kirsten Dierolf of ICF and SolutionsAcademy challenged my understanding of how we often use "authentic" and "authenticity." We talk of finding our authentic self, being authentic, sustainable authenticity. Dierolf reminds me that current parlance has forgotten that authenticity is really a metaphor. We don't have to go find our authentic self as if it's a lost set of car keys. We per se are. We exist. We are inherently authentic.  

But I wanted more and so I did what word-nerds like me do. I researched authentic's etymology, noting that the presence of the diphthong suggested Greek origin, and sure enough it is. From authentéō. To "exert complete mastery of oneself," says "the Great Scott" in classics' language. My foray into the ancient Greek lexicon removes the veil of today's metaphorical usage. I am authentic when I exert mastery of myself in how I interact with others; when I email and how much I email; what I choose to say and don't say. In short, authenticity summarizes how I control the things in my power.

The etymological anabasis—for me, at least—returns the conversation to its rightful origins and refuels my pursuit. You see, each morning I have a mindful writing practice that begins with "I'm a human aiming to live authentically, gratefully, and mindfully." "Authentically" sits in the antepenult position of this triad only because I like lists in alphabetical order. It's not because I value it more. In fact, I can see a clear laziness to apply this concept. Of the three, "authentically" is the only one that does not have a concrete practice attached to it. I deliberately practice gratefulness: when I'm putting away the dishes, folding laundry, and finding myself fearful, gratitude centers me. I also deliberately practice mindfulness: meditation happens immediately upon getting out of bed, which then translates to a mindfulness writing practice that can last for two hours effortlessly.

But I don't deliberately practice authenticity.

It's no wonder yesterday seemed to get away from me. My focus wasn't on my focus, a strategy that leadership life coach Maria Vieira highlights in her coaching practice. I was trying the doomed-to-failure "managing time" approach. It doesn't work with any real consistently.Not when you have five kids. Not when you're changing careers and navigating a divorce. Not when you're facing health problems. The eye that I kept on the clock saw time melting away like ice on a Texas sidewalk in August. No longer was I seeing what I had accomplished; I saw only what I was not going to accomplish before leaving to pick up children from volleyball, daycare, elementary school, etc.

Photo by Caio Silva on Unsplash.

What does an authenticity practice look like for me? And why not consider it? Why not take some time to imagine creatively how I'm going to remember deliberately, daily, and decisively what is in my power and not in my power? I'm not the type of person who loves waiting until I'm exasperated and emotionally wiped to remind myself. Is yesterday an example of what I don't want? Sure. But how do I live authentically? What does an authenticity practice look like?

That's the question I'm walking to my yoga mat with me this morning, and I'm excited about the way I'm going to implement it.

 


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