Who am I?

Who am I?

This question is central to our perception of the world around us. It matters how we see ourselves and frame our actions and responsibility in the world. It is a relationship with the eternal in which, no matter how hard it is to admit in this society, we control very little.
There is so much dualism in the world today. We can choose group A or B, perception 5 or 8 etc. Yet my experience has shown me time after time the complexity of the many layers and colors of life. So I wonder what is a choice? If we have only two options in a world of a lot of options.
Who I am is important, yet many people think to know me better. In the narrow corridors of their perception, they choke my soul into a corner. Then the conversation, whatever that might be, must be held from that position.
So I have struggled most of my life to understand and define myself in all its complexities outside of that corner.

The labels fabricated by this mad society seem to be hollow and irrelevant. Even when I tried to put labels on myself, they just fell off. Their words fail to capture a pixel of my soul. It's soil is infertile and dry the air seemed filled with rage.
And as I put a label on my outer self my soul starts to protest. She haunts my nights the darkness is filled with silent screams for the crime that I have committed to myself.
So I sat down and ripped the labels off, I threw them into the dark abyss. I am more complex than any label can show. It merely reflects the perception of the other back at me.

The complexity of myself, my identity and much more somehow seems to frighten me. I feel thirsty to put myself in a clear box with a label. And to be as they put it "right". It confuses me for a little while until I realize that we all have been colonized in our thinking. And that this too merely reflects that fact. Somehow people who go for one clear thing are admired. When you travel on different paths some filled with moonlight beams and the songs of ancestors you prove yourself to be fake. That is, to some people and groups. But it is those people and groups that cause so much suffering.

So to stand on solid ground I have to remember where I come from, the footsteps behind me and the starlight ahead of me. It's a place in this world and at the same time in between the worlds. And I found that only there I am centered in the seat of my strength.
It's hard to admit the strange, that even though I know this, I am afraid. Deep down inside a little girl begs for approval. Approval of others. And deep down inside the woman within me rises and takes the little girl in her arms. She knows that approval is a trap that leads her right into the dark without food.

In the end, we need to become aware of our own courage and embrace our selfs.So we stand, hand in hand holding the space for this simple yet profound truth.