The idea of "outsourced agency" really resonated with me, as did the below passage:
"It’s this sense that there are Right Answers, Right Ways of Being that the wise, the mature, the intelligent, the savvy - this faceless other - have arrived upon. Who are you to say otherwise?".
Reading those words made my mind jump immediately to my first time at Burning Man. I've experienced the sentiment many times throughout my life (as have most, I believe), but up to that point, I had managed to feel like I had at least some of the "Right Answers" as an adult. However, upon entering such a strangely "other" world, with (what appeared to be) its own rules and norms, I had a striking feeling of what I can now identify as "outsourced agency". I felt like my normal "I" wasn't enough for the environment, and was clearly lesser than the faceless (and often clothes-less) other. I tried to pick up clues on how to be, tried desperately to latch onto *something*, and could not even bring to mind the simple idea of being *myself*.
It's interesting looking back on the experience, primarily because it helps bring to mind all those times prior when I felt the same way. As you point out, growing up involves many an experience of outsourced agency, though those experiences seem to generally get pushed to the back of the mind.
everything you write makes me wish I had this vocabulary for describing social pain and forces that have whirlwinded me since I was little
The idea of "outsourced agency" really resonated with me, as did the below passage:
"It’s this sense that there are Right Answers, Right Ways of Being that the wise, the mature, the intelligent, the savvy - this faceless other - have arrived upon. Who are you to say otherwise?".
Reading those words made my mind jump immediately to my first time at Burning Man. I've experienced the sentiment many times throughout my life (as have most, I believe), but up to that point, I had managed to feel like I had at least some of the "Right Answers" as an adult. However, upon entering such a strangely "other" world, with (what appeared to be) its own rules and norms, I had a striking feeling of what I can now identify as "outsourced agency". I felt like my normal "I" wasn't enough for the environment, and was clearly lesser than the faceless (and often clothes-less) other. I tried to pick up clues on how to be, tried desperately to latch onto *something*, and could not even bring to mind the simple idea of being *myself*.
It's interesting looking back on the experience, primarily because it helps bring to mind all those times prior when I felt the same way. As you point out, growing up involves many an experience of outsourced agency, though those experiences seem to generally get pushed to the back of the mind.