Have you ever noticed how difficult it is to answer the seemingly simple question “who are you”? It’s as if the task of filling in the information for your “about me” on whatever social media site becomes a chore when you consider all of the things that you could possibly say to attribute to yourself. Once you have successfully defined yourself by your interests and a couple of common idiosyncrasies that others have described you as, or you have ascribed to yourself, there is still something missing. So you go on to state your current occupation or studies and attempt to call it a day. The rest of your identity is outlined by the physical appearance of your profile picture, and political and religious ideology. Yet once it’s all said and done, you remember that just a few years ago you had written an entirely different answer when asked the same question. So you’re then left discontent and wondering who exactly you are.
It was this dissatisfaction with my inability to confidently answer who I was that made me much more aware of who I am. I realized at that moment that no relationship, no label, no occupation, could ever successfully define who I am. I couldn’t even define who I was, because who I am is so much more than any word or thought could possibly portray. Who you are is so much more than any word or thought could possibly portray. Language alone will never be able to define the depths of our reality. Language creates limitations, limitations that the mind can comfortably live with. But when we are able to separate ourselves from our mind, our thoughts, our limitations…both ourselves and our reality become limitless.
Who you are can only be found in the awareness that you are not your body, your mind, or your thoughts. You are the silent self, who can safely observe your thoughts without identifying with them, in the silence of your mind. The essence of who you are can only be understood when your mind is silent.
- Everyday Essence (joyofspa.com)
- You Are Good Enough, if You Think You Are. ~ Scott Kilpatrick (elephantjournal.com)