Depths of the Human Mind

A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.

— Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

While writing an essay about my past the other day, I was struck by how intensely my emotions flooded back to me. Several times I had to put down my pen and question why I was writing that piece in the first place. The subject matter was extremely personal to me, but I felt that I had to write about it some day. But I also needed a breather to mull over my thoughts. And so I delayed that essay to write this one instead.

Maybe a public, albeit anonymous blog isn’t the best place to reveal my innermost thoughts. But if not on a blog or on social media or in print, then where? It’s not as if I would reveal my thoughts to a random stranger on the street and expect them to listen.

Sometimes, I marvel at the complexity of the human mind. Our ability to imagine infinite possibilities and reason about vast interconnected systems astounds me to no end. I am inspired by science, culture and art that enrich the human experience. I find all of it so fascinating, yet so intimidating at the same time. However, when I tell people about things I find interesting, I am met with blank stares or complete indifference. I have long since kept my knowledge to myself, hoarding whatever factoid I find in some dark recesses of my memory, only to one day have some vague recollection of it.

I am a mystery to myself and those around me. Just when I thought I understood myself, or just when I thought someone finally understood me, I am proven wrong again and again. It seems that our understanding of ourselves and each other hinges on a never-ending process of trial-and-error. It feels like slowly chiselling away at a rock, hoping that we will one day produce a sculpture that somewhat resembles an actual person, both in likeness and in mannerism.

Another analogy (though clichéd) would be that of an iceberg, which is only partially visible on the water surface, while the bulk of it is submerged. Most people will only ever see our physical appearance and maybe get an inkling of our personality from a brief interaction, but nothing more. First impressions matter, as much as I don’t want to admit it. An entire social dynamic is formed just from that short encounter.

It takes trust and courage to reveal ourselves to others. We seem to be in an eternal struggle of maintaining a good impression on other people while hiding our ugliest and darkest flaws. The material world operates on superficiality, where perception and influence is the name of the game. To be honest and vulnerable is to expose ourselves, allowing those with bad intentions to exploit our weaknesses. And so we hide our true selves under layers of emotional armour, hoping that no one finds a way to breach it.

Every person has a story to tell. But it often gets lost in the banality of small talk. I remember reading somewhere that small talk is akin to a social lubricant, smoothening an otherwise awkward social interaction between two individuals who share nothing in common. Very rarely do we offer a glimpse into our inner world while going through the motions of small talk. It is only during deep conversations when we can allow ourselves to divulge intimate details about ourselves and share what makes us truly human.

I want to believe that we are capable of amazing feats if given the right opportunities and circumstances. One word that has always haunted me is “potential”. We can do anything we put our minds to, but we may choose not to due to our irrational fears and doubts. More often than not, our barriers are self-imposed and reinforced by external influences, be they cultural norms, social pressure or government laws. Our potential is limitless yet limited at the same time. Like a resource, potential can be recklessly wasted, severely underutilised or properly optimised. It all boils down to mindset: the optimist pursues their ideals with wanton abandon; the pessimist wallows in self-deprecation; the realist takes a step back before charting their next course of action.

Perhaps my view of the human mind is overly simplistic. I haven’t even explored how we are able to use creativity to create works of art. But I’m no psychologist, and I am only beginning to understand just how unique our thought processes are. I will only ever fully understand my own mental model, which can be mysterious even to myself. I am alone with my own thoughts, and that’s okay. What I write down is merely a reproduction of my thoughts, expressed in words approximating how I think and feel at the moment. The human mind is constantly changing, evolving and adapting. Ultimately, we are dynamic creatures going against the inevitable entropy of the universe, shaping it at will with our beautiful minds.