What I Am
This might not be the post I am most comfortable writing but I received several requests for it so … This is my answer to requests for explaining who I am, what I am. During Lent we are planting a garden of sorts, growing ourselves and, hopefully, a better world. I have had some requests that I share a bit about who I am. I have tried very diligently not to make this blog all about me. I do not discuss what I am wearing, where I have been, or what I am eating. These posts are reflections about living and the diversity and sameness we all share.
I have asked you to undertake journeys in your mind, of the soul, and perhaps outside your own comfort zone. I have encouraged you to reach out and touch another, help those in need, and realize that we are no different from anyone else. Some feel it is time I share a little of myself in that cause. As I wrote in the first post on Ash Wednesday: “The purpose of this blog is to explore the connections we have with others and for the past two years we have done just that. We’ve woven stories, explored through literature, exchanged recipes, and traveled the world seeking sacred places and artifacts. However, it is time to look inward and undertake the hardest thing of all – a look at ourselves.” So I guess it is time to take at look at me.
I am a writer. You might be thinking…”well, duh!” I am also a human being, a musician, a writer, a reader, and a creative soul. I believe I am uniquely made and consider myself to be a child of God, although how I define God is probably not like how many might define that Supreme Being. (We’ll save that definition for another time.)
I am a descendant from the immigrants considered to be the first indigenous people on the continent of my home. My appearance is very normal; hair color, eye color, and even skin color being among the “normal” range of humans, nothing considered a mutation or genetic anomaly. In short, I am average; some might and have deemed me dull. I like who I am. To me, all of those descriptions are true but unnecessary. You might notice that I did not tell you I breathe. I am alive and as a human being, I breathe. To me, telling you I write or read or create is very much like breathing.
I could tell you I have the most adorable toes on earth. I happen to believe that is also a truth, although I realize that my toes are simply that – five digits on the end of my feet, nothing more or less than anyone else has. There are those that have categorized me as handicapped, even though I can do things they cannot, like write with both hands and sign my name exactly the same with both hands. I see no point in having bad dreams so I usually wake myself up and move on to more pleasant dreams. To some this is weird; to me it is expedient. I love order but am not obsessive about it. I wish I was; then my living quarters would much cleaner.
In short, what I am is a human being and I am of the female variety. There are contradictions and sameness, joys and tears, attempts and… the occasional success colored by failures that were wonderful life lessons. I live with faith guiding each step I take and when I stray, I chastise myself and then seek what can be learned.
I am a unique creature and yet, just like everyone else. To me, mankind is like a box of crayons. We all have the same basic recipe and needs and yet, our differences not only make us special, they brighten our world and reflect the beauty and potential of living.
There is a danger in overthinking to the point in which we fail to live, only think. As we go through this series this Lent, I hope you remember that the most crucial point of gardening is the enjoyment of the garden. Most of all, I enjoy life. I am that strange lady in the store softly singing to herself or that woman walking down the sidewalk dancing in time to a melody only I hear. What I am… is alive.