One of the tasks everyone faces in becoming a mature, soulful person is to transform large quantities of narcissism into a graceful form of altruism. Narcissism, as Freud said, is a natural and understandable attitude of youth. You're not sure who you are. You aren't certain about the world. You have anxiety about connecting with other people.

But eventually you experiment with friendships and romantic attachments. Still, you might be focused on yourself, anxious about being acceptable and lovable. Then you may get married, and the real alchemy begins. You have to learn how to be a strong individual who is increasingly open to another, and the learning is painful. Many marriages don't survive the test.

Parenthood is a similar form of alchemy. Day after day, you discover how to surrender your will and plans on behalf of your children. Sometimes it's easy to give up your wishes because you love so strongly, but most often it's a pain to say goodbye to fantasies of play or work that you've been looking forward to. That pain is a signal of the alchemy that is continuously transforming you into a porous, loving person instead of a hard-shelled narcissist.

At work, there are opportunities to convert your narcissism into a soulful personality. You can focus on money, prestige, and the power you wield, or you can learn the joy of serving others and being part of a team and a community. You will be tested in your dealings with partners, coworkers, and customers: will you protect your own interests exclusively, or will you be ethical and generous?

This process of shifting from narcissist to soulful person is the essence of the spiritual life. Many people think of spirituality and religion as matters of belief, but belief is rather cheap. It doesn't take much for you to believe in something, while it may feel as though everything is at stake when you make an ethical decision or put the needs of others before your own wishes.

It is no accident that the great spiritual teachers tell their students to live in community: the Buddha's sangha, Christian agape, Islamic service. Community is not a literal group of people; it's a posture in the world, a deep-seated value, a defining aspect of your personality. In their founding fervor, the religions teach that everyone in the world is community to you.

It's difficult to understand how people today may pray ostentatiously and yet advocate or justify violence on behalf of self-interest. Isn't that a failure in the spiritual alchemy in which you learn that you are not an ego, but part of a family and a community? If spirituality is about transcendence, then the first thing you have to do is transcend your small self. Story after story in the religious and spiritual traditions tells of teachers trying to help their students get past the narcissistic stage.

Narcissism is subtle. It isn't easy to spot or see the anxiety in it. The best and most mature of people have to confront it daily. A person is always full of narcissistic raw material, like ore, waiting to be transformed into the steel of a polished personality. And the pile of raw material never completely disappears.

Recently I re-read a telling passage in the highly self-reflective book by Daniel J. Baxter, The Least of These My Brethren. He was attending to a dying woman whose daughter was remote and sullen. Baxter tried to help the daughter face her mother's condition, but he got no response. Finally, he concluded, "I had to realize that some people simply do not want emotional support, at least from the doctor. My feelings should not be the issue." This realization was a signal of the alchemy taking place — the doctor discovered how subtly his own feelings look like altruism, when they really stemmed from his own need to help.

The world is in a less mature state generally. Business and politics, for all their religious verbiage, still serve self-interest. Every once in a while, I listen to an executive defending his decision to cut benefits to his employees. "It's purely a business decision," he says virtuously. But it isn't so pure. Consider his statement, which people often whip out at the slightest indication of an ethical crisis, and you'll see a defense against community in favor of self-interest — a missed opportunity to transcend narcissism. It is the choice of immature anxiety, a step backward in the spiritual life of the nation.

Narcissism is raw material. You need it to make yourself a real person. But it requires a sometimes painful process of transformation, an alchemical transmutation. You enter the pain of self-realization and come out ripened. You don't lose your individuality; paradoxically, you enhance it by discovering who you are by participating generously in a world that is blessedly not focused on you and your needs.

The end of narcissism is by definition a release from anxiety. It isn't easy propping up a self all day long, hurting people to keep a business profitable, or dealing with a complex world only for your own national interest. Chipping away at narcissism is like breaking through a wall, letting the air in and seeing the light.

---

Thomas Moore's latest book is Dark Nights of the Soul: A Guide to Finding Your Way Through Life's Ordeals. He is the author of Care of the Soul (careofthesoul.net).

Subscribe to Spirituality & Health