Stability — More Necessary Than Ever

Life has become complex. More complex, at any rate, than it was before digitalisation. And before Putinisation. And Trumpetisation. And AI-isation. And everything else. (Sometimes I wonder whether it even makes sense for me to keep writing. AI can do it too, as the flooded book market makes clear. But then I think that is precisely why I must keep writing — because AI can only retrieve what it finds on the internet. In that sense I am contributing to its development and training, and so I write on — with full confidence.)

Back to complexity. In the past things were simpler when you could orient yourself by a single god. Whether that was better, I question — but it was simpler. Today we are flooded almost daily with newly defined deities of varying shelf lives, and find less orientation than ever.

What we urgently need is stability.

Finding it is a challenge, because life is ultimately change. Stability is most likely to come from what changes as slowly as possible. The internet can be ruled out, as can fashion, science with its daily new findings, nutritional trends and digital friendships. Those who grew up in the analogue era sometimes have the invaluable good fortune of being able to draw on stable physical friendships that seem less vulnerable to change than the relationships of Generation Z. The essential problem with these established physical relationships is that they are gradually dying out — in the most literal sense.

So what remains when everything around us is in flux?

The answer is both simple and difficult: ourselves. We change too, of course, but our personality structure is relatively inert and remains remarkably stable despite rapid external change. We notice this as parents when we try to convince our children of something that matters deeply to us but not at all to them. Or with a partner who simply refuses to change in the ways we would prefer. Or in the rise of mental illness, which at its core can largely be traced back to the outside world no longer matching the inside — changing faster than our psyche can follow.

I find it remarkable that we can find stability within ourselves. I know this is not a new idea, but I think it has particular relevance right now. And it is enormously relieving. We do not need to keep up constantly with current trends, expectations or developments — because what is considered right and desirable today will be wrong and forgotten tomorrow. Engaging with our own personality is hard work, can be painful or liberating, demands great patience and is sometimes genuinely frustrating. But ultimately it is worth the effort. For ourselves and for those around us. How often do we want to help — our children, our friends, our parents — but do not know how? We know that unsolicited advice rarely lands well. But how else can we help?

When we are stable within ourselves, we can convey a sense of security through our presence and our listening alone — something that is often worth more than the most expensive psychotherapy. To offer others a sense of safety, all that is needed is our authentic presence and our genuine interest in them, nothing more. We do not need knowledge or complicated explanations — AI has those — but warmth and care.

Inner stability does not mean being free of doubt, fear or uncertainty.

These emotions are part of it. They can influence our personality if they are very dominant over a long period, but under normal circumstances they merely scratch the surface without leaving a lasting mark. This is why they generally have nothing to do with our core personality, and we can set them aside when we turn our attention inward.

How we develop an awareness of our essential self is highly individual. The question of what we were passionate about as children can serve as a guide, because as children we were usually least influenced by the outside world. It makes no sense, of course, to go back to playing with dolls because we loved it at age five. But reflecting on what it was about that play that captivated us might help identify something in our personality. Was patience always a strength, or did I train myself to be patient because it was expected — when in fact I was always someone who wanted to be in the thick of everything? Questioning precisely the attributes we are given or give ourselves can be helpful in peeling our way down to our essential core.

That core is what rests stably within us and ultimately defines us.

It remains, no matter how wildly life rages around us. No matter whether flared trousers or veganism are currently in fashion, whether Martians land on Earth or a new pandemic suspends all the rules. Those who need a little support in finding stability can also look to nature. Mountains and the sea are among the most stable things on this earth, and will likely outlast us by several billion years.