Identity
The idea of self. The basis for who we are. It is our past that defines our future, our present environment shapes the way we act, think & feel.
The intangible set of characteristics that make up our being. Each anchored to some manifestation of our subjective world. Mostly unspoken, unsaid, unanalysed.
How much of the foundation is really internal and how much is based on the outside world that we construct for ourselves? In my past, my identity was substantially based on the world I lived in.
Lawyer. Suit. Friends with the same world view to reinforce my beliefs. Everything governed by one rule or another. Before that time, was another existence – the other side, no rules, similarly defined by my environment, my associates, my perceived options – or lack thereof.
Even a face, our vanity, forms the basis of who we are. I’ve woken up not knowing what my face will look like. It is amazing how connected we are to our appearance and the recognition that others bestow upon us.
Am I my job? Am I my friends? Am I my family? Am I my partner? Am I my religion? Am I my wallet? Am I a product of my environment? Am I?
Passing time in yet another place in Asia, I am the only white man in the room. I get looks, sometimes I ignore them, sometimes I smile, sometimes I frown. Out here, I am perpetually lost in translation. A faceless, nameless stranger doing a task that has not been done for something that does not yet exist.
Out here, the only self I can define is within me. I have no real anchors to this world. Not yet. Now I begin. This is the purest form of existence.
I am a blank canvas – waiting for definition.
I am.
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