Addition and subtraction: How much does your identity weigh?

Do you travel lightly? Or do you tend to squeeze as many "necessities" as possible into your suitcase? I am definitely the latter, but I'm practicing to be the former. Before each trip, I tend to start packing at least two days in advance, because I cannot afford to leave behind anything: protein bars, nasal washer, electric razor, skincare products, supplements, the two t-shirts from Emporio Armani that perfectly crop out my physique, just to name a few.

I find looking at the contents of one's luggage a fascinating way to understand a person. It reveals what that person values as useful when being away from home; it displays how much one thinks he needs. In the novel Immortality, Milan Kundera describes two sisters with distinctive personalities, which interestingly, echoes the two types of travelers that I identified earlier. Kundra uses the terms "addition" and "subtraction" to describe their approach to constructing their identity. In his blog, I seek to expand on Kundara's fascinating analogy to share an interesting way to evaluate your identity and how it manifests in your ways of living.

Addition: becoming steady on solid ground

In the movie Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, Emma Bloom is a child capable of aerokinsis, or air manipulation. One highlight of her ability is that her body is as light as air. As a result, she constantly wears a pair of metal shoes to avoid floating away. What the method of "addition" creates through a sense of identity is exactly like how those shoes function. When we possess an identity or an attribute (such as an object or a behavior) that corresponds to that identity, it claims a sense of belonging for our existence, one that we know is validated by a group of people on this planet. Consequently, it makes us feel that we're standing on solid ground, that we are not drifting away in the streams of chaos.

Let's consider Kundera's description of how one of the sisters in his novel, Laura, appeals to her identity by owning a cat; Laura "...saw in the cat a superb independence, pride, freedom of action, and constancy of charm; in the cat, she saw her paradigm; in the cat, she saw herself". This vividly captures the mechanism of addition. Through addition, we see images of our identity being projected in the details of our surroundings. In Laura's case, the identity traits she values and desires (such as independence, pride, and charm) are embodied by the cat; as a result, she chooses to add the presence of a cat into her environment, which becomes a token of meaning that echoes her identity. We as humans do this all the time. We might add the identity of a blogger when we start routinely creating content on our webpage; we might add the identity of a cat-lover when we start nurturing a new kitty; we might tell others how much we value diversity and inclusions to identify with the liberal party; we might broadcast loudly to the world that we are a Dodgers' fan; we might be constantly adding new collections of crystals on our shelves to confirm our passion for spirituality. In short, the method of addition not only exhibits our existential need for identity, but also our tendency to construct coherence for that corresponding identity; this coherence creates a sense of meaning that makes us feel alive, we belong, and we matter.

At many points in life, we acquire identities and their corresponding attributes. If those identities stick around long and deep enough, it is as if our flesh has grown on those corresponding representations of our identity. As a cat lover, seeing a clip of a cat will strike your heart chord; as a conservative, seeing propaganda by liberals will be especially triggering. This is the weight of identity. The set of identities you identify yourself with guides your thoughts and behavior when you engage with the world; these are like webs of neurons that prompt you to "feel" your surroundings in a certain fashion. Thus, it's not surprising that the method of addition brings more opportunities for both pleasure and pain.

The overwhelming side effects of addition

In some cases, the method of addition can be problematic. Let me tell you a story of my friend. As a teenager, he was constantly bullied and body-shamed for his chubby, nerdy appearance, and he repeatedly faced obstacles in his romantic relationship. In his late twenties, he underwent a significant transformation of his physical appearance. He lost a dramatic amount of weight and put on a lot of muscles through intensive weight training. He also changed his hair, started paying attention to his clothing style, and put on make-up. To him, he has added the identity of a "fit, attractive individual". What I also noticed, though, was that he became obsessed with his appearance. He cannot stop talking and confirming about his transformation. "Look, this is me 5 years ago. Don't you think I look so shredded now?"; this has become the only thing we get to talk about. He would put on make-up before working out to ensure he looks well if he bumps into someone he knows; his attitude has become cynical and condescending whenever someone rejects him or doesn't validate his image. My friend's case demonstrates when an undesired identity is replaced by a new, positive identity, some would obsessively perform rituals that celebrate the new identity while growing toxic toward any signs that defy such territory.

When you are compelled to act in a certain way or to feel a certain emotion to confirm your identity, it can become inflammatory. You might become a radical activist who defends your identity by committing destructive, selfish acts. You might give in to your irrationality and spit out derogatory words. You might burden yourself with conspicuous purchases that you can't afford. You might close your mind off and lose the ability to listen and exchange ideas. You might find yourself forcing your beliefs on others. You might become exhausted and confused. When this happens, you know that the method of addition has gone out of control, and it might be useful to reflect on and balance your identity system with the method of subtraction.

Subtraction: finding freedom and clarity

Now, let's take a look at Kundara's description of Agnes. "Agness subtracts from herself everything that is exterior and borrowed, in order to come closer to her sheer essence". I absolutely love Kundara's idea of getting closer to one's essence. When we add too many objects into our suitcase, regardless of how organized we arrange them, it becomes harder to find ones that might be more important and necessary than others. In the same sense, if we don't balance the method of addition with subtraction, then all of these identities and corresponding attributes (some of which might even contradict each other) become tangled among each other. When that happens, how do we know who we are, what we need, and what we want?

Subtraction is like trimming the stems of your identity system. It is removing a certain (or part of your) identity (or some of its corresponding attributes) from your life. In Toy Story 3, Andy decides to pass on all of his favorite toys (who have accompanied him throughout his childhood and adolescence) to his neighbor's child. This is an example of subtraction: removing a representation of your old identity when you move on to a new stage in life. The method of subtraction can be a healthy strategy to become more clearheaded about how you define your current self. Furthermore, it can make you feel more free and peaceful, since you will be bounded by fewer values, norms, feelings, and behaviors that no longer make sense to your fundamental meaning system.

Of course, some identities such as race and sex are not malleable like martial status or occupations. Still, we can employ the method of subtraction to modify the amount and the quality of attributes that stem out of those identities. Possessing the identity as a man, you might consider "body count" a toxic mindset indoctrinated by your social circle, thus deciding to subtract it from your identity; possessing the identity as a minority, you might realize that the idea of "I'm constantly being oppressed and discriminated against" sabotaging your temper and self-esteem, thus deciding to subtract it from your identity.

Subtraction can also be a mental exercise rather than actually having to eliminate something completely. For instance, you can practice writing out your identity system + things you do or own that represent those identities. Now ask yourself, what are the ones that truly represent the essence of your identity? Which ones are merely expectations from others? Which ones are causing inflammatory distress and conflicts? How do you make adjustments to make more room to breathe?

Concluding thoughts

With addition, comes enrichment and existential security, but also the inevitable weight of responsibilities, feelings, values, and behaviors, all packaged in one. With subtraction, comes a sense of clarity and freedom. Instead of seeing yourself as purely additive or subtractive, I recommend using both methods flexibly to balance both a sense of freedom and a sense of belonging.

Practicing designing the optimal weight of your suitcase

Imagine yourself as a suitcase that carries around multiple identities and their corresponding thoughts and behaviors. Then, reflect on what those identities bring you.

What's something especially joyful about possessing a certain identity?

What's something especially painful about possessing a certain identity?

Do any of the corresponding thoughts, behaviors, or objects make you feel burdensome and overwhelming?

Would using the method of addition for a specific identity make you feel safer and happier?

Would using the method of subtraction for a specific identity make you feel more light, free, and clear-headed?