Would You Rather Be Useful or Be Yourself?

Have you ever felt compelled to do things that made you feel useful but far away from your real self? Have you ever experienced an over-commitment to tasks that seem expected from you, but are not really in line with who you are?

Becoming your real self is quite a journey that often gets us caught up in the principle of utility. The desire to feel useful and needed within the circle of our beloved ones can lead us every day a step further from the end goal of this life journey. Or, we might take a detour to a place somewhat foreign to us and accordingly become a little uncomfortable.

In being useful we might gain a sense of belonging to the group with which we feel useful, but on the other hand, we might get—at each step—a bit further from our sense of self. How do we solve this problem?

The story of the big pine tree

I would like to start with a story related by a Taoist Chinese sage, Chuang-Tzu about a big pine tree.

Here’s a version of the story, from Burton Watson’s translation of the text:

Carpenter Shih went to Ch’i and, when he got to Crooked Shaft, he saw a serrate oak standing by the village shrine. It was broad enough to shelter several thousand oxen and measured a hundred spans around, towering above the hills. The lowest branches were 80 feet from the ground, and a dozen or so of them could have been made into boats. There were so many sightseers that the place looked like a fair, but the carpenter didn’t even glance around and went on his way without stopping. His apprentice stood staring for a long time and then ran after Carpenter Shih and said, “Since I first took up my ax and followed you, Master, I have never seen timber as beautiful as this. But you don’t even bother to look, and go right on without stopping. Why is that?”

“Forget it — say no more!” said the carpenter. “It’s a worthless tree! Make boats out of it and they’d sink; make coffins and they’d rot in no time; make vessels and they’d break at once. Use it for doors and it would sweat sap like pine; use it for posts and the worms would eat them up. It’s not a timber tree — there’s nothing it can be used for. That’s how it got to be that old!”

Later, after the master carpenter had returned home, the old tree itself appeared to him in a dream and gave him a bit of a talking-to.

“What are you comparing me with? Are you comparing me with those useful trees? The cherry apple, the pear, the orange, the citron, the rest of those fructiferous trees and shrubs – as soon as their fruit is ripe, they are torn apart and subjected to abuse. Their big limbs are broken off, their little limbs are yanked around. Their utility makes life miserable for them, and so they don’t get to finish out the years Heaven gave them, but are cut off in mid-journey. They bring it on themselves — the pulling and tearing of the common mob. And it’s the same way with all other things.

“As for me, I’ve been trying a long time to be of no use, and though I almost died, I’ve finally got it. This is of great use to me. If I had been of some use, would I ever have grown this large? Moreover, you and I are both of us things. What’s the point of this — things condemning things? You, a worthless man about to die — how do you know I’m a worthless tree?”

The moral of the story: Try to be of no use because just being is quite a big job!

Fulfilling one’s own destiny is the biggest achievement that a human being can meet in life. Sometimes, the utilitarian notion for which something is considered good only if it can be used can be quite uncomfortable and misleading. Putting aside this principle and pursuing our own goal can save our life from unhappiness and discomfort.

Jung writes that our collective unconscious might have demands on us that we need to recognize and respond to according to that core self—expressed in Greek as the word daimon, in Egypt with Ba-soul, or the Romans with genius—that gives us the sense of what feels right and meaningful action.

The process of individuation, as Jung calls it, is very similar to the choices made by this unpopular, but wise pine tree. Like the tree, we should be able to live our life in accordance with those imperceptible hints and impulses that yet powerfully point us to self-realization. But it’s not easy because we want to be loved, we want to belong, and sometimes we let the irruption of something harmful guide our choices.

Probably it’s in the quiet little things we do in life that our sense of self thrives. Our task, and the things we are praised for, might be useful—but not the place where our sense of self resides. Despite the fact we are all similar, we are not the same. Finding our relational happiness and letting it sparkle is a more demanding task than bending to the principle of utility.