Lately I've been thinking about the definition of self. Perhaps the fact that we seek the conclusion to the ethereal "I am" statement is one of the things that makes us most human. And truly, this concept is everywhere...movies, tv, music...we are all seeking its end.
I have turned in a LOT of resumes and applications in the last few weeks, and have been on several interviews. Interviews are a lot like first dates, I'm thinking, because both require you to define yourself. "See, this is who I am here, here and here, and this is what I do to shape the world around me." During dates, we are trying to see if who we are aligns closely enough to our date's taste and personality, and during interviews, we are trying to convince our potential employer that who we are will benefit his or her company.
High school brings the greatest conflict in self-definition for many, and then college, and then it keeps going. And re-definition should always continue, I assert, because we're always changing. The guy, Peck, who wrote a book called The Road Less Traveled, offers us the image of our personalized "maps." Maps of who we think we are, how we see our world, how we interact with our world, how we see others in our world, and where we are going based on the terrain as we see it. As each new experience happens, we re-shape our maps. Maps have keys, indicate mountains, capitals and other landmarks, and offer a traveler a perspective of where they've been and how they might proceed. So, what does your "map" look like? Who are you?
In my "I am" existentiality, I realised I don't know. I really identified with Kristin Armstrong's final line in her recent blog, "you are still, and always, a runner." This lady who has no idea who I am boosted my confidence in my flagging fitness routine. I just watched the movie, "The Holiday," and the old movie writer tells Kate Winslet's character that she should be the leading lady in her life, not the best friend. And Carrie's character in "Sex and the City" has in several instances said, "That's just me."
These things I identify with because they offer hope that there is a place, an actual finality in self-discovery...but I'm beginning to think that it's a false hope. Well, a mis-directed hope. Because we don't ever stop filling in the "I am" blank. And for me, I feel like I don't know who I am. I am a runner, yes. I am a friend, sister, daughter, granddaughter. I am a traveler. I am a renter. I am someone who dances her hip hop in the car. I am a reader. I am a cheese-lover. I am both leading lady AND best friend.
But on deeper levels, I am unsure. Couldn't the definition of self include, or perhaps, be superseded by who we desire to be? I WANT to be a writer. I WANT deeper faith. I WANT deeper relationships. I want someone to tell me that if he wrote my theme song, he'd use all the best notes (also from "The Holiday"). I want to understand God and his role in my life and my role in his world better. I want to be a treasured friend, sister, daughter, granddaughter, woman. I want to be an excellent teacher. I want to love. Perhaps if we stop with "I am," we lose the significance of our maps. How can we continue to change them if we already are? Can we start off a date with, "Well, here's who I hope to be..." Can we connect with each other in that way, or is it more of a "map" thing? And what if we never become those things we want to be? Do we never achieve the "I am?" Is that perhaps the point? Many of the things I want to be and I'm sure many others also seek do not have finish lines. It isn't possible, I think, to have "enough" faith. To be an excellent teacher. To laugh off the insignificant things and focus on the all-important LOVING.
So IS there hope? Absolutely. Do I know who I am? Nope. I know where I've been, though, and I'm adjusting the key in the "Legend" box at the bottom of my map...adding a new road here, a different tint to the hill there. The legends to our lives. The unattainable outcome, the perpetual search. The life, boots on, and the end, love had, and done.
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