An ex Infosys marketing head on why the idea of self worth and identity matter only so much
Last year, I was invited to the wedding of a dear friend’s daughter. All of us were quite excited to attend – given our increasingly crammed, chaotic schedules, it is only on occasions such as these where friends and family are compelled to cast aside professional commitments, school schedules and other mundane engagements and must make time to come together and celebrate.
Quite naturally, we were all looking forward to it. On the morning of the ceremony, I joined the other invitees at a beautifully-decorated banquet hall for the wedding breakfast. The couple was glowing, the food was delicious and the conversations flowed – everything was perfect, except for one little detail.
As I made my way to the little groups of people dotted across the banquet hall, it struck me that everyone I came across was introduced to me by their full name and designation. It seemed so de rigueur that no one read too much into why the designations had overpowered virtually every other aspect of the conversation: these designations made their presence felt early on and continued to dominate virtually every other aspect of our conversations, both consciously and subconsciously.
After breakfast, we retired to our rooms for some rest beyond which we would convene for other festivities. Cut away from the rest of the crowd, I found myself wondering if and how the burden of their social and professional identities was affecting the bearers.
How much of their experience at the wedding was governed by their joy of meeting old friends and making new acquaintances? How was their experience affected by the treatment they believed they were worthy of receiving, based on their status? Heading back to the festivities, I saw many of the bearers wear their identity like a weight around their necks.
All their interactions were perfectly aligned with the identity they had created, which, in turn, was largely governed by their professional status. They came to the event with certain expectations about how they would be treated, based on this identity.
The trouble with such expectations is that they, more often than not, set us up for disappointment. We spend our lives under constant pressure, basing our sense of happiness and fulfilment on how others are treating us. And, in doing so, we let everyone get under our skin.In corporate boardrooms, I have often found this over-emphasis on identity clouding decision-making and performance.
If a leader (consciously or otherwise) allows their identity to take precedence over the task at hand, they are no longer able to give their 100 percent to the task at hand. Their need to safeguard their identity supersedes their approach to the problem.
It also affects their thinking, and their ability to work in teams and to partner and collaborate. On a larger level, many organisations suffer the consequences of such leadership, when populist decisions must be made, not because they are indeed the best solution for the problem at hand but because they are aligned with what the decision-maker perceives as his or her own identity.
I often contrast this with cricket, a game that has spawned many popular sporting legends. When a player is out on the field and facing his 1,000th ball, he knows that the ball doesn’t care if he is a Sachin or a Virat.
Regardless of his public brand, he must approach the ball with the same discipline, focus and precision as his first ball on his very first day. He must understand that, in that moment, the ball is more important than he is. This is essential if he wants to succeed.
An over-dependence on identity also diminishes the enjoyment we derive from even the most routine activities – imagine attending a glitzy party where your every action and word is under scrutiny and measured in relation to your professional or social identity. It sounds exhausting, and that’s because it is. Now, contrast this with the simple act of playing with a toddler under the age of three.
Regardless of your identity, the toddler will roll and play with you, like anyone else. The pressure instantly lifts and you will be amazed at how refreshed you feel.In spiritual practices, participants are often encouraged to take a journey from being somebody to nobody to everybody and, in the process, to drop their identity. One way of doing this is by singing bhajans at a satsang, where you become a part of a collective.
Here, you become everybody, without a unique identity and the expectations this identity creates. In our everyday lives, where so much of our time is devoted to creating and preserving our identity, occasionally dropping this identity to become nobody or everybody is increasingly important.
I urge all my coachees to find some time every day to drop their identity through whatever means available – whether by playing with children, attending a movie with friends, meditating or exercising. Several spiritual practices have structured approaches to enable you to occasionally drop your identity. These little breaks can work wonders for your personal energy levels, by refreshing, reviving and rejuvenating you.