(Identity as the foundation: being before doing)
He trusts that God, who dwells at the center of your being, whispers this wisdom and leads the way. He believes that you are God’s image-bearer, born to flourish, designed for significance and meaning and impact in your world.
Our decisions have the powerful role in forming and representing who we are. These apologies at least acknowledge the interconnectedness of our identity (being) and our decisions (doing). Such public failures remind me that on the other side of my sanctimony is a recognition that I too struggle with the idea of who I am, and make decisions that feel incongruent. I also find myself in situations in which, with hindsight, I feel regret or remorse about the encounter. At the risk of projection, I’d say we all do. The human experience is full of dissonance, where our behaviors seem mismatched with who we want to be.
It’s a glimpse of the internal tug of war we all wage: the battle between a persona and an authentic self. Our inability to grapple with identity leads us to make poor decisions.
We need to know who we truly are… and how to make good and wise decisions accordingly. Why is this so difficult? Why do we suffer from such confusion about who we are? There are probably a multitude of reasons, but three loom the largest: We lie to ourselves, often for very understandable reasons.
We are overwhelmed, which inhibits our ability to live with congruence. We’ve neglected our capacity to listen well, choosing to listen to the wrong voices.
(The three lies of identity that drive self-deception)
We lie to ourselves. The Dutch Catholic priest Henri Nouwen wisely acknowledges our tendency for self-deceit, outlining the three lies of identity:8 I am what I do, I am what I have, and I am what others say about me. When we believe these lies, we live in some unhealthy ways. We devote ourselves to activities that aren’t true to who we are. We collect material possessions in hopes that they bring a sense of fulfillment. We cling to the approval of others. Our minds, hearts, and bodies search and scan for an elusive form of validation and approval. When we feel we’ve failed at this, we turn to contriving schemes and tweaking formulas to craft a better persona, one that is perhaps more effective at these things.
And despite our perpetual digital connectivity, adults in America are lonely. Since 1985, the number of Americans who report having no close friends has tripled. Living in a perpetual state of burnout, stress, and loneliness results in a lack of authentic identity void of any purpose and direction.
Parker Palmer, in his profound book Let Your Life Speak, writes, “We listen for guidance everywhere except from within.”
(The soul as wild animal — it requires stillness, not noise)
He writes: The soul is like a wild animal—tough, resilient, savvy, self-sufficient, and yet exceedingly shy. If we want to see a wild animal, the last thing we should do is to go crashing through the woods, shouting for the creature to come out. But if we are willing to walk quietly into the woods and sit silently for an hour or two at the base of a tree, the creature we are waiting for may well emerge, and out of the corner of an eye we will catch a glimpse of the precious wildness we seek. In our current state, we don’t have much time and space for soul work. Such inner work requires a different sort of listening. It requires a different pace of life. It requires an honesty with ourselves that can seem scary. But to avoid who we truly are and continue living otherwise is actually scarier. If we lie to ourselves long enough, we start to forget what’s true. We overwhelm ourselves and wonder if we can sustain the pace.
We are desperate for discernment, searching for wisdom to make good decisions. This requires a sacred journey to authentic identity, demanding a different pace than our calendar apps typically allow. Workaholism, stress, and loneliness aren’t very helpful places from which to make decisions. What would it look like to live free of them? What if we reconsidered the question, What should I do with my life? May Sarton captures the journey well:
(The persona as mask that restricts vision and identity)
The Latin root for persona is “theatrical mask.” The personas we present to the world are masks. In fact, it seems easier to live from persona and consider it identity. But we only put on the mask because we want to shape how others see us. It’s a response to perception rather than reality. To live from an authentic sense of identity is a response to how I see myself. If you’ve ever worn a mask, you know that it often impedes your vision. Most costume masks have holes for your eyes, but even when you line your eyes up with the holes your vision is restricted. To live well requires that we name the masks that we wear, take them off, and then see our lives with more clarity, range, and depth. The initial glance can be tough, because it leads to the acknowledgement that “the life I am living is not the same as the life that wants to live in me.”18 When we do this, we’re beginning to scratch the surface of the essence of life. Mary Oliver, in her poem “The Summer Day,” asks “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”19
If we are willing to name the masks we wear, take them off, and explore what’s underneath, we can carry the weight of inspiration and discovery Oliver gives, and make decisions accordingly. That is the essence of this book. We each desperately need to find the path back to our true selves, and then live from that place of identity to make wise decisions.
Discerning Identity, Discerning Life To arrive at a point of authentic identity is rare. Most continue to live with the mask on. But for those who are willing to put in the work, a sacred space emerges. It’s a place of raw vulnerability. It’s a tender place, full of sensitivity, goodness, fear, and courage. Entering it can conjure two responses. The first is defensive, where we shame ourselves for our inadequacies and shortcomings, heaping criticism. This is engaging the space with judgment. We become our own worst enemy: an inner critic. The second is hospitable, where we see ourselves as we truly are, and welcome with love. And to see is to love. This is engaging the space with discernment.
The tragic irony of our “information age” is that our unfettered access to information has failed to make us wiser. It fails to help those who confess: This is not who I am. Imagine the shift from the brokenness of This is not who I am to the wholeness of living in such a way that you can claim This is who I am. To do so would allow us to get out of some unhelpful patterns of behavior. This is what discernment provides.
(The enneagram reveals who you are not, not who you are)
When the enneagram comes up at parties or other social settings, it’s often discussed as a way to describe who people ARE. This is understandable, but unfortunate. The enneagram is truly about understanding who you are NOT. Through the awareness that comes with discovering your dominant type, one can begin to see our habitual patterns, behaviors, reactions, defenses, barriers and capacities.
In this present surge in popularity of the enneagram, there are untold amounts of information out there, much of it being peddled by people eager to sell you their knowledge. Such fervor isn’t all bad, but it risks creating a culture of superficiality. There’s a lot of repackaged content about personality types out there. Discovering your personality type is merely the trailhead to a deep, complex, and important journey to self-discovery. It’s the place we start, not the place we end.
Discernment is the gift and practice of living our lives from a deep sense of vocation, with wisdom, in the fullness of time.
In the Introduction, I argued that our ability to discern our lives well is diminished by lying to ourselves, being overwhelmed, and neglecting to listen. But underneath is another layer of resistance, a marshland of the soul that further impedes. To discern well, we must enter these murky and shadowy places and identify these impediments. More difficult to recognize, these impediments’ ability to remain in the shadows makes them more powerful.
(Anger, shame, and fear as the centers’ dominant impediments)
In our adapted states, anger, shame, and fear can result in negative, unhealthy consequences. The enneagram helps us see how each center of intelligence suffers from one of these impeding emotions in a more pronounced way. The Gut Center Triad types all suffer from anger—a state of displeasure, annoyance or hostility. The Heart Center Triad types all suffer from shame—a state of painful negative thoughts about oneself, humiliation or distress caused by the experience of being wrong or foolish. The Head Center Triad types all suffer from fear—an unpleasant state caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.
Each type makes an internal deal: “If I settle for ____, it’ll keep the dominant emotion (anger, shame, or fear) in check.”
When the body experiences shame, it powers down. Shame has a way of dragging us down like we’re sinking in our own quicksand. Momentum wanes, as does the motivation to act out of a sense of discernment. Shame also has a fog-like quality, impeding our vision to see anything but our own shortcomings. The result is isolation, where we avoid others out of worry about being exposed. In isolation, we’re prone to relapse into the same cycles of unhealthy behaviors, which reinforces the shame we loathe. It’s a tragic cycle that drains generative discerning energy redirecting it at our own self-loathing.
How Fear Impedes Discernment When we experience fear, our brain short-circuits pathways of rational thinking, reacting more from the amygdala in a survival mode. This process plays tricks with our memory, breeding uncertainty. The uncertainty can be overwhelming, causing us to freeze in our tracks. When the body is in a state of fear, breathing quickens, the heart races, and muscles tighten in a panic state. The body is not built for sustained fear states, inevitably leading to fatigue and exhaustion, both of which work against the discernment process.
In God’s waiting room, where we don’t know what’s next, we wait expectantly. In this liminal space, we find the expanse of vocation.
Such hefty questions emerge in all sorts of important thresholds. We’re often faced with decisions that have no simple answer: How should I continue my education? What should I study? Where should I live? Whom should I marry? Or, should I marry at all? What’s my ideal career path? Do I want to become a parent? When faced with such important questions, a common response for the religious and non-religious alike is to look to a higher authority (God), to help us make sense of the options before us, or perhaps, provide some validation for what we choose. It’s been said that there are no atheists in foxholes. When we feel stuck in indecision, we find ourselves in an existential foxhole.
She refers to this as the “adapted self,” the self we believe we must be in order to survive and have our needs met. This false/adapted self is the result of an over-identification with our ego. Granted, part of being human is having an ego. In fact, the ego is responsible for some important functions of our overall self. Beware the teachers who claim to help you eradicate your ego, allowing you to simply live from “essence.” The goal is not to have our ego disappear. To have an ego is not a problem. To have an ego is to be human. The problem is over-identifying with our ego, letting it run our lives. This is egocentricity. David Benner describes it this way: “it (the ego) cannot fulfill the role it is uniquely equipped to fill while it functions as chief executive officer.”8 In other words, our ego must be put in its proper place, letting our authentic self lead the way.
The absence of trust in one’s own authentic identity is a powerful motivator to place trust in other things, hoping they will help us understand who we are.
Coupled with a lifetime of results in which our adapted self has worked fairly well for us, discovering a different way of being is no small task.
This love is also generative. We are created in the Imago Dei, as an imprint of the Divine. Consider David Benner’s explanation: …our being is grounded in God’s love. The generative love of God was our origin. The embracing love of God sustains…Love is our identity…Created from love, of love and for love, our existence makes no sense apart from Divine love. This is the beautiful irony of identity. We are prone to craft our own imprints to survive and thrive in our world. But our authentic identity is an imprint of a different sort, one that authenticates instead of imitates.
A journey inward and downward through our shadows. In many ways, this is the more difficult path. When Jesus told his disciples that to save their lives they must lose it (Mark 8:34-36), this is what he was talking about. There is a death we must suffer: a death to our over-identification with the ego. We must slay our overreliance of the unhealthy adapted self. Out of this death is resurrection. Thomas Merton once wrote, “For me to be a saint means to be myself.” This is what it means to live from authentic self. While this journey from adaptation to authenticity is available to us all, the places from which we start may differ. This is where enneagram wisdom helps us identify our dominant place of the adapted self (dominant type).
The personality we’ve developed helps us survive, but it creates problems as it solves others. While it keeps us safe, it also conspires in our own diminishment and division.
Perhaps the most famous quote from the film subverted my simplistic idea of purpose. “I believe that God made me for a purpose… and when I run, I feel his pleasure…to win is to honor him.”22 Liddell’s story raised more questions within me than answers: Why did I want
to win? Why did I want to be first? Purpose, I eventually learned, is a complex thing. Even among the world’s elite athletes, purposes can differ. The “why” behind something has many layers. Remember that when we embark on the journey from the adapted to authentic self, we eventually discover a new energy of agency. This agency activates our journey through vocation’s second territory: purpose.
It’s a call to live a life in pursuit of flourishing in one’s relationships with God, self, others, and creation. So, when we talk about purpose in our vocation, we’re talking about a process of living in healthy trajectories of shalom in the many dimensions of our lives. It’s a beautiful notion: to live as the beloved self-in-God is to be about the belovedness of others. The Divine Love is self-giving rather than self-serving. It flows from God to our self-in-God and to other selves-in-God through our relationships. When we live from a place of authentic identity in the Imago Dei, our self also gives from this same Source. This allows us to consent to right relationships with God, self, others, and creation.
Type 2 – Twos want unconditional love but settle for niceness. → Love is within → Pursue flourishing from this inner love.
Type 3 – Threes want worth but settle for image → Worth is within. → Pursue flourishing from this inner worth.
Type 8 – Eights want protection but settle for control. → Protection is within. → Pursue flourishing from this inner protection.
Type 9 – Nines want peace but settle for calm. → Peace is within. → Pursue flourishing from this inner peace.
Who are you? A beloved self-in-God. Why are you here? To pursue flourishing; wholeness in your relationships with God, self, others, and creation. Where are you going? Fathom, by fathom, you will comprehend the depths of your journey. Our egocentricism blinds us to these truths, relying on our own willfulness to make our way in the world. But freedom from this “false self” loosens the chains of our anger, shame, and fear, and allows us to take a posture of willingness, where we say “Yes!” to God’s call.
“Blessed are those who find wisdom, those who gain understanding.” —Proverbs 3:13 “Love is the highest form of intelligence.” —Serge Benhayon1
Divine Love is pure and sacrificial. Thus, it’s not selfish or self-serving. It’s self-giving. It’s a perfect love in that it is complete. Consider the times in your life where you felt particularly vulnerable, where your wounds or faults were laid bare. The most powerful love from others is when they truly know you, warts and all, and yet truly love you anyway. This love is the very essence of God.
In Surrender to Love, he reminds us that “the love of God is the most basic ingredient in the cosmos.”
“Jesus is a teacher who doesn’t just inform our intellect but forms our very loves. He isn’t content to simply deposit new ideas into your mind; he is after nothing less than your wants, your loves, your longings.”7 Such “loves” are formed in our whole selves: gut, heart, and head. Divine Love is a wise love—one that forms and transforms us. Thus, our loves and our intelligence are more intertwined than we’re often willing to admit.
If we consider the three centers of intelligence as the head, the heart, and the gut, then we can begin to see what each center offers us. Enneagram teachers Kathy Hurley and Theodorre Donson have done some of the best work in this area, which has been more recently developed and expanded by Suzanne Stabile. The head center provides us “thinking intelligence,” the heart center provides us “feeling intelligence,” and the gut center provides us “doing intelligence.”10 When we employ these intelligence centers, we gain wisdom to discern our lives. We think about our experience, we feel our way through our experience, and we act upon our experience. Here’s how: Thinking intelligence is used for retrieving and organizing information. It also helps us plan and analyze. Feeling intelligence is used for observing emotions in ourselves and others, interpersonal community, and relationship. Doing intelligence is used for the movement of our bodies and the body’s desires for pleasure and achievement. Without awareness, we spend much of our time in an over-reliance on one center, supported by another, and misusing or neglecting the third. The flow and rhythm of our ability to know becomes arrhythmic, awkward, and out of sync.
(Sankofa: go back and fetch what identity, purpose, and direction require)
Go Back and Get It The West African concept of “Sankofa” gives a concept for this type of discernment, capturing the essence of the journey. Sankofa is a mythical bird with its body forward and head turned backward. Roughly translated, “Go back and get it,” the bird is a reminder that we must remember to fetch what is at risk of being left behind. SAN [Return] KO [Go] FA [Look, fetch] Any work involving the enneagram and discernment is Sankofa work. We must go back and fetch what’s at risk of being left behind: our identity, our purpose, our direction.
SAN: We must return to our authentic identity as one made in the Imago Dei. KO: We must move forward with flourishing purpose, fathoming our direction. FA: We must engage our present in the fullness of kairos time, with head, heart, and gut aligned to cultivate wisdom. This is the discerning life: Sankofa over and over again. As our dominant type doesn’t change, our need to walk The Way of Discernment is lifelong.
“Don’t be afraid of work that has no end.”1
The Way of Discernment is no express lane. While it can provide momentary help in times of decision, it’s a longsuffering journey. So, when the next decision comes, journey through The Way of Discernment. Hear the call to go back and get it, and discern your life with flourishing abundance. And do it over and over again, because it’s worth it this way. You’re worth it.
The Vocation Triad Who am I? (Identity) Why am I here? (Purpose) Where am I going? (Direction) The Wisdom Triad
What am I doing? (Gut Center) What am I feeling? (Heart Center) What am I thinking? (Head Center) The Practice Triad What am I remembering? (Past) What am I experiencing? (Present) What am I anticipating? (Future)
(Each type’s affirmation: worth resides in being, not striving)
Type 1: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image there is no condemnation. My goodness is in who I am, not simply what I improve.” Type 2: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image there is no shame of being unlovable. I am loved and appreciated for who I am, not simply what I do for others.” Type 3: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image there is no shame of being worthless. My worth and value are in who I am, not simply what I do.” Type 4: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image there is no shame of being unknown or excluded. My belonging and significance is in who I am, not simply what I uniquely express.” Type 5: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image there is no fear of incompetency or depletion. My competency and viability are inner renewable resources to be shared with others.” Type 6: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image there is no fear of being alone. Support and guidance is within, not simply in what I can secure.” Type 7: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image there is no fear of lack. My contentment is in who I am, not simply what I can plan or experience.” Type 8: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image, anger is refined. My protection is in who I am, not simply what I control.” Type 9: “I am made in the Divine Image, and in the Divine Image, anger is resolved. My peace and wholeness is in who I am, not simply in what I keep calm.”