Who Am I?

Years ago, someone criticized me — “at least I know who I am.”

That stung, and the stinger stayed buried longer than I should’ve let it. This is me pulling it out.

I’m over being around people who package answers in platitudes. I have carried shame for the way I think and wrestle; it annoys me most of the time.

Always asking, seeking, knocking. I don’t know if it’s my new mind that scares me, or those who are certain about everything. Their certainty makes me fear I am moving in the wrong direction. I miss blissful ignorance.

It’s easy to feel superior when you’ve accepted a life that doesn’t demand a constant, deep evolution. That kind of person makes for a great social media influencer or spiritual entrepreneur—but not a soul I’d trust in the dark.

I can tell where someone is by what they “amen”

I am a constant oscillation of emotions and thoughts.

I’ve started to detach myself from those waves though this week’s wave has already been difficult. I’ve begun to find myself in a narrative larger than me. Something sacred enough to hold my chaos, and steady enough to remind me I’m not alone in it.

You are not alone.

I want to give something real. Be something real. To grow up well, so I don’t ante up and pass along the same bullshit shallowness that I received from people who had no idea what they were talking about.

I turn 38 this year and something that I am becoming increasingly aware of over the past few of those is that the things we praise might be the things that should instead break our hearts.

I am keenly aware— painfully so— that most, if not all, of my ambition is really insecurity.

I am also aware that I am often tempted to make my experience the criterion for all other’s interior lives.

Another wound lodged deep somewhere?

Aspiration seems to be different; a place where I can draw breath. I long for that place.

I have spiritual anchors that tether me to something real amidst all my imperfections. Thank God for those.

But as for knowing “who I am?” I don’t know. I’m still becoming; trusting that all that is burning is holy ground.

Carry on