From Crayons on the Wallpaper to Global Governance: How Did We Get Here?

He's not the Messiah. He's just a naughty little boy...

The True Government

Remember the thrill of creating as a child? For many of us, that first masterpiece was scrawled with crayons on the living room wall. But what happened between that innocent act of self-expression and the complex world of rules, governments, and societal pressures we navigate today? It turns out, the journey is surprisingly interconnected.

Our story begins with that four-year-old artist, brimming with creativity, only to be met with a less-than-enthusiastic response. Instead of praise, perhaps there's criticism, or maybe just a stressed-out parent reacting to the mess. The child learns a powerful lesson: creative expression can be painful, and even lead to a loss of connection and love. And so, the seeds of the false self are sown.

This isn't just a personal anecdote; it's a universal human experience. We're all born with a desire to express our authentic selves, but the world often seems to reward conformity instead. We're compared to others, judged against arbitrary standards, and taught, implicitly or explicitly, that our true selves are somehow unacceptable. The message is clear: wanting what others want, not what we want, is the path to acceptance.

This pattern repeats itself throughout our lives – in school, with friends, and within our families. The evidence mounts, reinforcing the lie that our authentic selves are flawed and need to be hidden. We develop coping mechanisms, and rules to live by: Don't express your needs. Don't rock the boat. Fit in.

By the time we reach adolescence, this internalized pressure boils over. We either rebel against the system entirely, or we double down on conformity, becoming self-righteous in our adherence to the rules. We might strive for conventional success – college, career, family – or reject societal norms altogether.

But there's another path, a less obvious one. Some find a middle ground, dropping out of conventional society to excel in unconventional, often difficult or dangerous fields. They become soldiers, firefighters, and first responders – finding a sense of purpose and even recognition in roles others avoid.

Yet, true success isn't found in any of these external achievements. It lies in the uninhibited joy of that child with the crayons, expressing themselves freely, without fear of judgment. So, where did it all go wrong?

The false self, that carefully constructed persona we present to the world, becomes our shield. It's "real," we tell ourselves, even as we recognize its inauthenticity in others. Our true self, meanwhile, becomes a source of shame, something to be hidden, even despised. We see glimpses of it in heroes we admire, or in the "laziness" we condemn in ourselves and others. This is the shadow self, the part of us we disown.

The irony is that the false self was created to protect us, the true self, from the pain of judgment. But the constant comparisons, and the pressure to conform, make us feel like we're the ones who need protecting from, not just by.

This disconnect between our authentic selves and the world around us is universal. We all feel it to some degree – the sense of being different, the "us" versus "them" mentality. And the sum of all these individual "we's" is what we call "society."

A crucial corollary to the narrative of the criticized artist is the case of the ignored artist. For some budding creatives, there's no parental disapproval to navigate, and no critical voice to overcome. Instead, there's simply silence—an absence of any reaction, positive or negative. This lack of acknowledgement can be just as damaging, fostering a sense of invisibility and worthlessness. Deprived of any validation, these artists may wither, their creative spark extinguished by the perceived indifference of the world. Alternatively, they might veer off course, resorting to increasingly extreme or attention-seeking behaviours, even negative ones, in a desperate attempt to be seen. Any form of recognition, even censure, becomes preferable to the agony of being ignored. Both these paths underscore the fundamental human need for connection and validation, highlighting how the absence of any feedback can stifle creativity or distort it into a desperate cry for attention.

Society, then, becomes an aggregate of individuals all fearing each other's perceived flaws, while simultaneously believing others are somehow better. We form alliances, create rules, and build structures to protect ourselves from these "bad" others, even though they are the same people we see as "good." Trust becomes a fragile commodity, reserved for our own carefully crafted false selves.

The perceived path to peace and acceptance becomes conformity, obedience to rules, and the pursuit of conditional approval. Happiness is found either in breaking the rules without getting caught or in rigidly enforcing them on others.

And this, ultimately, is the raw material from which governments are built. We yearn for a sense of peace and security, and we seek it by appeasing authority and becoming its favoured members. We are governed through patronage, conformity, rule adherence, popularity contests, and the public performance of virtue through judgment and condemnation.

But in the end, none of these structures are inherently evil. They are simply a manifestation of that primal human desire – the longing to avoid punishment for expressing our true selves, for "crayoning on the living room wallpaper." Understanding this fundamental human need is the first step towards creating a society that embraces authenticity, celebrates individuality, and allows us all to reclaim the joy of that four-year-old artist, creating without fear.

#authenticity #shadowself #falseself #conformity #creativity #childhoodtrauma #society #humanexperience #government #selfexpression