The personality is a braid of conditioned behaviours and memories. It’s why we think, speak and act the same way every day. We assume this triple-named bit of binding is who we are.
Enneagram teaching posits nine passions (from passio, meaning ‘to suffer’). These are anger, pride, deceit, envy, greed, fear, gluttony, lust and, taking up the rear, sloth. Most men assume their dominant passion is lust. Most men are wrong. Fear-based men vastly outnumber men who love to fight. We dance with each other. Lust leads. Fear follows.
The personality is built on whatever we identify with. One man is a sports fan; another, a Scientologist. A third man watches pornography; a fourth hyper-cleans his car. Whatever we think or do habitually is the personality. Donald Winnicott called it the false self.
We cannot renovate the mask-like fear-based personality. The most we can do with this fragile shell of a self is step out of it, as chicks do after a period of assiduous pecking.
What pleases us is good, what displeases us is bad. This is the province of the personality, aka the little me, the false self. The best is neither good nor bad. It’s now.