The imperious self is an anti-self, i.e., a contrary force that is rebellious and systematically out to pull us away from where our real self—our soul—wants to lead us. If you want to meet with your imperious self, there is nothing simpler, all you need is to take a step towards some ethical or divine principle: help someone without expecting anything in return, hold our tongue when your impulse is to backbite or show off, try to rid your mind of negative thoughts, etc. The reaction will be immediate, and you will clearly witness the power of your imperious self in countering your attempts at such accomplishments.

As we have seen, the imperious self functions on the basis of the “terrestrial” values (ego and material interests). Its action on us could be summarized as follows: to focus our thoughts and aspirations solely toward terrestrial values and to make us forget celestial values; to put it in another way: to make us act solely according to our own material and selfish interests with no regard for others’ interests or for our spiritual dimension.

If the plural “portraits” is used here, it is to best illustrate the multifaceted and elusive figure of our inner life for the imperious self is a shape-shifting model that makes for a difficult subject for a painter. We never really know where to find it when we look for it, and we often find it where we have not been looking for it—at times in our outward behaviour, more often in our thoughts and emotions, in our most daily activities as well as in our actions that appear most spiritual and most noble. The imperious self is like a creeping rootstalk that runs underground and spreads itself out in the Self.

This is the first piece in an extended series dedicated to the practice of ethics and more specifically to the identification of the main source of our anti-ethical tendencies: the imperious self. This concept is given a precise definition in The Path of Perfection: “The imperious self is a powerful psychological energy that is harmful for the soul. This energy is continuously produced by the activity of our character weak points, resulting in anti-ethical and anti-divine impulses and desires at the level of our conscious self”.
The paradox is that the fierce resistance deployed by our imperious self against our ethical endeavours actually constitutes the necessary condition for the process of spiritual perfection to take place. In this sense it could very well be considered as our “best enemy”.

From mere annoyance to exasperation or fury, anger can express itself in many ways, and in all kinds of situations. Identifying anger within ourselves is generally an easy task, even though it sometimes takes subtle forms that can cloud our judgment. On the other hand, whatever form it takes, controlling it is always a different story. It is rather safe to state that this issue concerns, in one form or another, every one of us. We will thus dedicate several posts to examining it. This first one will allow us, on the basis of a scenario and a few questions, to start reflecting and to share our thoughts, experiences, suggestions, ideas and interrogations.

Dealing with others, enriching as it is, often comes along with a few of difficulties. Whoever they may be—a superior at work, a colleague, a member of our family, or a mere acquaintance—others rarely behave exactly like we would want them to, quite the opposite. A colleague stole the credit for my work again, a friend of mine hurt my feelings, my mother-in-law criticized my cooking again, … the list could go on. In such moments, it is only natural to feel the need to share our troubles with someone we feel close to and to seek their support. But here’s the catch: this legitimate need to confide in someone can very easily turn into the desire to speak ill of others. And, whether we are conscious of it or not, it often does. Then, all of a sudden, rather than sharing our difficulties, we start sharing what we think about others, including, if it can make us feel better, all the bad things we think about them…

Many of you reacted to the first extract from Juliette’s experience and the case study based on it: Backbiting as a main dish? What do you think? So, did the situation involve backbiting? The poll results are unequivocal: yes! However, while 89% of you considered it was Juliette’s duty to defend her colleague (“yes” or “somewhat”), only 53% believed keeping quiet was not sufficient, and 11% that keeping quiet was a mistake. Meanwhile, a total of 35% considered that keeping quiet was sufficient (19%) or “already excellent” (6%). Most of you thus agree on the theory, but opinions are split as to how to best deal with this situation in practice—the diversity of the comments testify to it.

Indeed, many insisted on the necessity to take into account the context, the personality of the guests, one’s own personality, one’s rights and duties (what do we owe to whom?), etc. In short, none of this is simple and each situation is unique.

What is it that makes a dinner successful? Delightful dishes, a nice atmosphere, guests who get along, who feel happy by the end of the evening and, on their way out, sincerely compliment their host… In fact, each guest could easily come up with a different answer. But the more interesting question might be that of the “ethical success” of such an evening, especially when complex dilemmas arise, involving the guests, one’s own ethical convictions and, sometimes, people who are not even present. Juliette had to take into consideration all three of the above in the very interesting anecdote she shares with us here. Her story will be published in two installments. This first post takes the form of a case study, describing the evening, how things got complicated, and inviting you to share your views on the theme of backbiting: What qualifies as backbiting? What doesn’t qualify as backbiting? What constitutes the best course of action in this situation and why? Put yourself in the shoes of our hostess and share your thoughts and personal experiences by answering the poll questions. The end of this real-life story will be shared with you in a second post. Let us note that Juliette did not have the luxury of the couple of weeks of reflection you will get to make a decision: make sure to take full advantage of this virtual extra time to best reflect on your own practical options were you to be faced with a similar situation.

Karen Armstrong is a historian of religion and the founder of the Charter for Compassion that has had far-reaching worldwide impact since its inception in 2009. The charter defines compassion as that attitude which “compels us to work tirelessly to alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures, to dethrone ourselves from the centre of our world and put another there, and to honour the inviolable sanctity of every single human being, treating everybody, without exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.”

In a book about self-esteem, the French psychiatrist Christophe André cites a number of social psychology studies according to which, in any given field, most of us feel just a little bit superior to the average person. We feel a bit more skilled, a bit more intelligent, we think that we have better taste, etc. “Based on these studies taken as a whole, he writes, 67 to 96% of people overestimate themselves in comparison to their peers. And that phenomenon is fully subconscious…”

If this is true when it comes to professional skills or taste, it is also true, and perhaps even more so, when it comes to ethics. Indeed, while we may sometimes nurture an inferiority complex with regards to our looks, general knowledge or intelligence, we rarely have similar doubts with regards to our moral values.