Personal Branding: The Self in the Image

Series: Work and Dzogchen

Personal Branding: The Self in the Image

“So, what is your job?” How often do we define ourselves by our job or social role? Are we what we do? More specifically, is our image what defines us? Images are everywhere now: no longer just on television—the “karma box,” as Alags Chörten, Mila Khyentse Rinpoche’s Dzogchen master, sued to call it—but on all our computer, smart tablets and phone screens. Images of every kind, including images of ourselves. With family, on vacation, or with friends—at a concert, a restaurant, or at work—or even for work itself. Our image is sometimes one of the factors that adds value to our professional lives and is sometimes even the flagship product itself!

Thus, image has become an essential element in the development of professional careers. We sometimes have to work on our image to get… better work, and therefore… a better image.

Artists are well aware of this, but many other professions are no exception. Coaches, athletes, journalists, entrepreneurs of all kinds, politicians, teachers, and so many others—not to mention actors, influencers, and YouTubers!

This isn’t limited to the workplace, by the way—young people know this all too well. These days, you often have to put yourself on the show to exist. You have to appear to be (someone). But is the image of our-self really who we are?

Building the self with the image and then identifying with it—that’s what we might call the “ego.” Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn, and so many other platforms help billions of people every day to stage this version of themselves, whether for fun or not. We become the lead actors in our own lives, playing role in our dream life.

But is this self-image who we truly are? Is this image even real—the one others see, the one I see in a photo or in the mirror? Or is it rather a mental construct—what I think the image of myself is? Or perhaps it’s a mixture of both?

In any case, traditions such as Buddhism and Dzogchen offer a kind of grand exploration of the “self”. Through this exploration, we discover what the “self” is, what it’s based on, and how it functions. Ultimately, we reach a true shift in perspective—a new way of seeing reality that is vaster, clearer, liberating and liberated.. For, according to Dzogchen, this “self” can only be illusory. It is the actor in the dream of our lives.

 “This image of the self is then experienced as illusory, like a dream. We transition from being the lead actor to becoming a dream being. Many things become possible. ” 

No matter how many followers we accumulate for the image of our successes, our beauty, or our career, ultimately, nothing will change, because the self is tormented by the fear of not truly existing. This may be surprising or even frightening, but it is in fact the ultimate source of all freedom.

How do we begin our journey of discovering who we truly are? What process should we implement to discover ourselves beyond our image?

One might wonder what remains of the “self” when its image changes so radically over time. Thus, old age naturally brings about this transformation. We can observe impermanence—in our hair, our wrinkles, our illnesses—as time passes and leaves its mark on our bodies. As we observe the passage of time replacing everything, we must ask: Is the “self” still the same?

Another method we can use at any time makes use of the imagination. It consists of mentally “substracting” various elements that make us up and seeing if we are still ourselves. This exercise of reflecting on the “self” that would endure beyond its changes is a classic in the Buddhist tradition. It can be found in the image of the chariot in the Milindapañha, the famous dialogue between the Indo-Greek king Milinda (Menander) and the Buddhist Nāgasena, and taken up by the Indian philosopher Candrakīrti (7th century). An echo of this concept can also be found in the Greek world, with the image of Theseus’s ship in Plutarch (1st–2nd centuries), which likewise addresses the problem of identity through change [1]. If all the parts of the ship are replaced one by one, will it still be the same ship once they have all been replaced? Is it not the same with the cells of our body? If everything changes, what remains of the identity of the self?

To experience this for oneself, it is sometimes interesting to change one’s hairstyle—cutting off one’s long, beautiful hair, or shaving off the beard and mustache that defined one’s uniqueness—an image all one’s own. Another option is to radically change one’s wardrobe—at the very least, to go to a costume party, or even a masquerade! Do we recognize ourselves? Do others recognize us? Are we still the same person if our image changes so drastically?

So we play with our image, which we patiently construct. We tell ourselves the story of our lives, in which we are the main character. We refine it, polish it, and improve it. This work is endless because, deep down, we vaguely know that it is based on “nothing,” that the ego is empty in and of itself, being nothing more than a mental, imaginary construct—the story of our lives that is in perpetual evolution and that we tell ourselves. To maintain it, then, we must work at it ceaselessly, over and over again. However, this very work can help us get to know ourselves better, discover who we are, and understand how this identification with our self-image works. It can even turn into a real game, a play—the great play of our life!

Through this subtle observation, a sense of play emerges within the ego, and space is created between what we imagine ourselves to be and what we truly are—without a illusory fixed identity, vast and clear, empty and luminous. Then, once we’ve experienced this slight discrepancy between our self-image and our true nature, the play becomes increasingly expansive, effortless, and powerful. We begin to play with this image, its qualities and its flaws. We become like an actor who does not identify with their role. A form of freedom emerges. We take ourselves less seriously because we identify less with the image we used to. If we are blamed or criticized, it affects us less and less. For what is truly being criticized?

This image of the self is then experienced as illusory, like a dream. We go from being the lead actor to becoming a dream being. Many things become possible. Confidence and self-assurance take root, as we open up by stepping out of egocentrism, the excessive cherishing of the self stemming from the disproportionate importance we once attached to our own image. If the self does not truly exist, then everything we think and perceive about it can be modified, transformed, or simply recognized for what it truly is: empty of inherent nature (Skt. śūnyatā-svabhāva).

A different vision emerges. The grand play of reality unfolds.

Although working on our image can distance us from our true nature, through a patient process of questioning, deconstruction, transformation, and then recognition, we can come to discover ourselves—whether at work or beyond. We work to undo our work in order to transcend it while continuing to work… Thus, whether we are working or not, and whether our image is crafted or not, none of this affects the empty essence and luminous nature underlying who we truly are, beyond any image. The actor’s performance, that of the dream being, is then the magical dance of reality. Everything becomes possible, or rather, we recognize the infinite possibility in everything, including personal branding, the play of the self-image. But that’s yet another story…