As a part of the “This Time Next Year” journal writing, I am supposed to write about what I like best about myself. However since I have not followed one single suggestion of this journal yet, I am inclined to not force myself to now.
Here’s what I will say. I have no fucking idea what I like best about myself. I am hoping this time next year I will have a better idea. Right now I feel like I don’t know myself at all. That’s a scary place to be because if I don’t know me then how does anyone else. And if the folks I have relationships with don’t really know me, what are the relationships based on. And once I do get to know myself what if those people don’t really like me anymore. What if I don’t like me anymore. So do I really want to get to know me? Do I really have a choice?
The answer to the last question, obviously, is no. I do not have a choice. Getting to know me and who I am and what makes my gears go is essential to moving forward with my life. I have made some pretty life altering changes recently. What a shame it would be to make moves like that, to create the freedom and the space I need to understand myself and then waste that time sitting around in falseness.
What a shame indeed.
But I have come to one conclusion. I will like me. I can’t believe that a person, when living their truth, is wired to not like that truth. It may be uncomfortable for a minute, but when the dust settles, I think the answer to “is this really who I am” can be found in the way the soul feels full by the idea. To start small, I know I love food. Food makes my soul feel full. I am a person who loves to cook, feed, eat, smell, learn, food. I know this is a true part of who I am because participating in it sets my soul right.
Is food a small thing? Sure it is. But I can hold on to it as that benchmark of truth and what it feels like to discover who I am.
I have always been who I am in relation to another person. A daughter, a wife, a mother, an employee…I am not sure that I have ever taken the time to figure out who I am as a stand alone feature. Running is probably the closest I have ever come to figuring that out. Even while you are with people, running is solitary event. Folks can be with you, support you, motivate you, but they cannot take one step for you. I am the kind of runner I am based solely on what I do in and of myself. My training. My technique. My desire. My ability. My body. My brain. It is just me.
And I think I like just me. I think I like who I am and what I am becoming. There are so many things I wish I had done different. But sitting here at this computer, sifting through the fragments of me, I am starting to realize that maybe all this mess was purposeful. That maybe there is something to my idea of puzzle pieces and spirit animals. That caterpillars are on to something with their butterfly making ways.