True Self and Impermanence

Free Will in the Face of Fate

Recently, I watched Luc Besson’s film DogMan.

The story follows Douglas, a man whose life has been marked by unbearable cruelty from the very beginning. As a child, he endured violent abuse from his father. His mother could not protect him and eventually fled. When Douglas was only ten years old, his father locked him in a kennel with dozens of dogs for four years. Later, he was shot and left paralyzed.

His life became a long series of losses: foster homes, loneliness, rejection, and marginalization. He lived with hundreds of dogs in an abandoned house, surviving on the edges of society. At times, he dressed as a woman to sing on stage. At other times, he used his dogs to steal from the wealthy. Eventually, his pain turned darker, and he began to kill in the name of justice.

By the time he spoke to a psychiatrist, he was ready to die. Life had struck him so relentlessly that he no longer wanted to live.

What moved me most in the film was not the violence, but a quiet conversation between Douglas and the psychologist Emily.

Emily: Did you know you could be sentenced to death?

Douglas: I have died many times.

Emily: Maybe this is the last time.

Douglas: If it is God’s will, then I am only a puppet.

Emily: No. You are not. Life rarely goes the way we want. Most of the time, we cannot control what happens. But in the end, what matters is how we respond. You can grieve. You can despair. You can resist. You can even laugh. That choice is yours. That is free will.

Yes—free will.

Even if we were once victims, we still have the capacity to decide how we will face our lives.

Will we remain trapped in pain, forever identified with the role of the wounded one?

Or will we awaken, face what hurts, and return to who we truly are?

In many ways, Douglas’s conversation with Emily is the beginning of his healing. By the end of the film, he is no longer only a puppet at the mercy of fate. Something deeper in him begins to awaken.

The film touches on a question that belongs to all of us:

How do we live when life is uncertain?

The Unpredictability of Fate

Fate is impermanent.

We do not choose the family we are born into.

We do not know what losses we will face.

We cannot predict who we will meet, what disasters will arrive, or even what will happen tomorrow.

But impermanence does not mean helplessness.

Even when life is uncontrollable, we can still choose our stance toward it.

We can drift unconsciously, or we can live with intention.

We can avoid pain, or we can turn toward it.

We can remain imprisoned by what happened, or we can begin to heal.

And yet, having choices is not the same as being free.

Because superficial freedom is not true freedom.

A heart locked by trauma is still a puppet.

Douglas spent years trying to survive. He found work, love, music, even performance. But his inner world remained closed, dark, wounded. His pain was unseen. And without healing, he eventually fell into destruction.

It was only when his suffering was truly witnessed—when he opened his heart to another human being—that something shifted.

That was the beginning of his liberation.

The Puppet Strings We Carry

In psychotherapy, many clients arrive feeling limited by fate.

Some know what happened to them. Others do not. But the pain is real.

At the time of injury, they often had no choice but to adapt.

Self-blame may have protected them from conflict.

Anger at others may have protected them from grief.

People-pleasing may have protected them from abandonment.

These strategies are not weakness. They are survival.

But when pain is never processed, the strategies remain.

Even when life circumstances change, the inner patterns persist.

The scenery changes, but the same story repeats.

This is how fate continues to feel like control.

The Way Out Is Inward

To live freely is not simply to change jobs, partners, or cities.

The deeper transformation is internal:

To reconnect with the true self.

Over years of self-healing, clinical training, and walking alongside clients, I have come to believe this:

Much of human suffering comes from losing connection with who we truly are.

Healing is the process of restoring that connection.

The true self is not something we invent.

It is something we return to.

It has always been there, but over time it becomes obscured—by family, culture, trauma, and survival.

Pain is often the signal that calls us back.

What Is the True Self?

Psychology has offered many descriptions.

Karen Horney saw the true self as the most alive and central part of us—the part capable of growth.

Winnicott believed the true self is where creativity and authenticity live.

Jung understood it as the inner essence of identity.

Maslow described it as our innate nature—the voice inside that knows what is right and true.

More recently, Dr. Richard Schwartz, based on decades of clinical work, described the true self through its qualities:

Calm

Connection

Compassion

Clarity

Confidence

Courage

Curiosity

Creativity

When people access this state, they seem to know—deeply—how to relate to their own pain.

In my own clinical practice, clients repeatedly describe this same experience.

One client, after months of therapy, said:

“Now everything feels natural. I can understand others without losing myself. I don’t need to please. I trust myself. I feel present. I feel whole. I finally found a part of myself that was always there.”

This is the true self.

Not a personality type.

Not a label.

Something universal. Something human.

Pain as an Invitation

Many people feel far from this state, but the truth is:

The true self belongs to everyone.

Most people simply have not had the opportunity to meet it.

Life keeps us busy. Survival keeps us distracted.

And then pain arrives.

Pain brings people into the therapy room.

Pain brings people to the edge of themselves.

And sometimes, pain becomes the doorway.

Douglas met Emily when he had reached the bottom. That was where his healing began.

In this sense, pain is not only suffering.

Pain can also be awakening.

Living With Free Will Inside Impermanence

The answer is not outside of us.

Not in perfect circumstances.

Not in control.

But in the heart.

The true self is not unreachable. It is accessible.

Psychotherapy is one path. Reflection is another. Spiritual practice is another.

And the work is lifelong.

We will always live inside impermanence—birth, aging, illness, loss, joy, change.

But once the true self is experienced, something shifts:

We are no longer only puppets of fate.

We become human beings with inner freedom.

With free will.

Even in the face of impermanence.

Author: Yoly Lin

Website: www.coastalforest.ca

Email: hello@coastalforest.ca

Tel: 6725145185