Have you ever felt like you have two conflicting sides within you? A part of you that takes action and another part that observes and judges? In this article, we explore the concept of the “actor” and the “observer” that reside within our minds and the dynamic between them.
At some point in our lives, we may have pondered about the duality of our existence. We can perceive ourselves as being divided into two distinct roles: the actor and the observer. However, the assigned labels can be misleading. The actor, despite its name, is not just someone who performs actions. Likewise, the observer is not merely a spectator. Let’s dive deeper into their roles.
The actor is the driving force behind our actions. It has the final say in the decisions we make and the behaviors we exhibit. This part of us seeks simple pleasures, like enjoying a cup of tea, indulging in delicious food, or being in good physical shape. Its desires are rooted in immediate gratification and the pursuit of personal enjoyment.
On the other hand, the observer is the voice inside our heads. It reflects upon our actions, judges our choices, and serves as our critical thinker. While the observer is the one speaking right now, it fuels a constant desire for ideals. Although the exact ideal may not always be clear, the observer longs for something greater, something beyond the simple pleasures pursued by the actor.
Naturally, these two characters within us often find themselves at odds with one another. For example, a person who is inherently lazy but yearns to accomplish great things may experience this conflict intensely. The observer may nag and complain about the actions (or lack thereof) taken by the actor. So, how can we address this inner conflict?
For a long time, I believed that the solution was for the observer to take control. I thought that if the observer were to realize its own ability to act, it could then guide the actor towards achieving grand aspirations. However, I now realize that this approach overly prioritizes rationality.
The observer, known for its rationality, can also lean towards nihilism. Nihilism suggests that there is no inherent meaning to life, no foundation for our moral reasoning or beliefs. The actor, however, cares little about nihilism. It engages in simple reasoning like, “I enjoy tea,” or “I love chocolate,” or even “I feel great when I exercise.” The actor does not question the why or how behind its preferences.
In fact, I now recognize that it is the observer who must acknowledge its purpose: to serve the actor. Rather than trying to gain control over the actor, the observer’s true role is to care for this inner child. The actor represents that childlike innocence within us, and the observer’s purpose is to nurture and attend to its needs.
By understanding that the observer’s purpose is to serve the actor, nihilism loses its relevance. The observer’s reason for existence becomes clear: to take care of the actor and ensure its well-being. Instead of seeking grand ideals or grappling with the lack of meaning, the observer’s meaning lies in tending to the actor’s desires and pursuing the simple pleasures that bring joy and contentment.
In conclusion, acknowledging the duality of the actor and the observer within ourselves allows us to better understand the conflicts we face. By embracing their roles and recognizing the purpose of each, we can create a harmonious balance within ourselves. So, let us strive to nurture our inner child, the actor, while the observer guides and ensures its well-being.