I’ve spent the last few days reading and studying such books as “Exodus to the Virtual World ” by Edward Castronova, “Coming of Age in Second Life – An Anthropologist Explores the Virtually Human”  by Tom Boellstorff, and various online treatise by psychologists, notably- Dr. Leon James work on “Avatar Psychology.”

I must say, getting though these tomes was like wading through a swamp of hyper-technical loquacious psycho-babble. And none of them answered my questions.

I began my field study into Second Life’s Tiny Culture to determine what the operative mythology was behind it.  What informs this culture of tiny creatures? What is the story here? I chose to do this through “participative observation” – becoming one of them and observing their culture from that vantage point.

What happened next was unexpected and disconcerting for me. I quickly discovered that I liked being a Bunny. I enjoyed my time playing, laughing, being silly and singing songs with my new-found friends. Moreover, I became aware of a feeling of “safety” when I was in the Shire with them.  This is difficult for me to articulate and I want to take great care in not presenting my observations the way the books I’ve been reading have – psycho-babble causing your eyes to glaze over.

So my original questions about what was informing this culture became -What was it that was so compelling about being a Bunny? Why do I feel safe being a Bunny?

My human avatar, on the other hand, looks pretty much like me, acts and talks like me – maintains community relationships based on shared interests. She is the virtual representation and extension of who I am. To the extent that one is able to accept virtual existence,  this makes sense.  Although I have a friend and colleague who would say to this – “You’re a Fucking Freak.” And I understand his point of view as well. Yet, understanding that viewpoint does not negate my very real emotional experience of being a Bunny. There is something very psychologically intriguing about what has happened to me.

The easiest answer would be to throw the blanket term of “Escapism” onto my query.  By becoming a Bunny I escape the realities of being human. No bills to pay, no job to go to, no responsibilities – a return to childlike play and carefree innocence. But that doesn’t explain the feeling of “safety” I experience.

To explain that, I think, is to delve into my own personal psychology of relationships and their dynamics. My experience of human relationships has been fraught with more negative than positive outcomes. Because of this, I do not trust people and I view them as “unsafe”. Conversely, my relationships with animals, both wild and domesticated,  have always had positive outcomes. Hence, animals are “safe”.

Even though I logically “know” that behind these other little animal avatars are adult humans, my emotional experience of them references memories of childhood playfulness, fun and a world of pure imagination.

Webster’s Dictionary has several descriptions for the word “Avatar”. One, which particularly stood-out for me was this:  “A variant phase or version of a continuing basic entity.”

This exploration into the multifaceted nature of my psyche has been both grueling and eye-opening. I think I wrote this article more for myself than my readers.

Until next time …