A Younger Dan

            Manipulation entails a disparity of particular information between two parties, which enables the party “in the know” to exert some form of influence. The puppet-master knows how to move the strings, the puppet does not: the master can control the puppet. So when I manipulate myself, part of me knows something that another part does not. The conscious, rational sections of my mind can wield experience, imagination, and logic to trick my reflexive mind into doing its bidding (to a degree).

            Throughout high school, I was fascinated with controlling emotions. Common wisdom seems to be somewhat split between: “You must control your emotions!” and “Emotions are uncontrollable.” which seems to put us in a tight spot. However, the dictates can be reconciled by reading the first notion as “despite your rogue emotions, control your actions,” which I believe to be the general interpretation. Amiable but impulsive, Dan the sophomore wasn’t particularly focused on controlling his actions. I, who believed through early high school that the sole objective of life is happiness, was concerned with disproving the second maxim.

            I viewed my conscious mind and my emotional mind as distinct, but interactive. What I thought had an impact on how I felt and vice-versa. I began tracking these impacts in order to discover whether the side I could directly control had any useful hold over my emotional self. Eventually, I found that emotions would inevitably suffuse my mind, and determine my mood. I could not alter this entry; however, I found that my conscious mind had some power over the exit of such moods. When I thought “this emotion is wrong” or “I am wrong for having this emotion,” the negative mood would be cemented in. This conscious layer, the evaluation and feeling about the emotion that floated in, would preclude the emotion from departing naturally. The sense that my life or myself were wrong would endure until I decided it was untrue, and the negative emotion would be trapped below just as long. I realized: “I must accept the emotions that float into me, not letting them bear on my sense of my life, so that they can pass through me.” Sadness is okay. Anger is okay. Happiness is okay, and when it comes again, I can grab it.

            I could not always make myself happy through sheer will, thereby perfecting my life by my past definition. Yet, through my method, I gained some control over my negative feelings by trying not to control them, by letting them be, so they could be gone. What did part of me know how to do that another part didn’t such that I could manipulate myself? It’s difficult to identify. But the fact that I could “trick” myself exemplifies the leveled nature of me, and suggests the ambiguity of what “I” consists of. Manipulation is connoted to be beneficial for the controller, and damaging for the controlled, if only because his or her autonomy is compromised. However, if I am both parties, is manipulation neutral? If I am one party more than the other, can manipulation be all good?