By Kenneth Stepp
Who am I? Seems like a strange question. I’m a father, a businessman, and a nonprofit founder. I’m also a writer and I am an activist. Do these things describe me? Not adequately. At least I believe there is so much more to any human being. We have a past. That past has made us who we are. Well. Partially anyway. Some are choices. Some are decisions (there is a difference). My parents helped make me, me. I can’t tell you how many times my father’s words fall out of my mouth. And my mom’s style of putting things together. Or how I relate to others. Then there was my Granny. She helped mold me quite a bit. My point is, who am I is complicated and has many layers. So knowing me takes time and focus.
“Who I am? Am I thinking?”
― Debasish Mridha
Who am I? Have you ever asked that question about yourself? I find the answer to that question depends directly on the intelligence of the person I ask. The smarter the person. The more self discovery they practice. With the exception of someone who is a sociopath. They already know who they are. They are the god of their tiny universe. So we’ll not use them as an example. Who we are matters. It matters because we are all on a journey. It’s like we are strolling down a hallway that is miles long. On both sides, as we stroll, are doors. Each door has a purpose. Each door leads to very personal and important answers. Each door has our potential for that day behind it. We choose those doors based on who we are. To open the wrong one that day would send us on a journey not meant for us. How long would it take to correct is anyone’s guess. To choose the right door for us requires knowing “us”.
“He asked me, ‘Who are you?’ I said, ‘I don’t know, can you please tell me who am I?’ He had no answer.”
― Tanmaya Guru
Who am I? Well… I’m still learning about me. Will I ever fully know me? There are days when I feel I do. Then there are days like today. When I am lost. I am in what feels like an alternative universe. One that logic and common sense have no value or use. A place of forced solitude. A place where “aloneness” reigns. When I am here. I am without friends, I’m without anyone who cares, and I am hopeless. I know this place isn’t real. But it feels real when I am here. If perception is reality. Well. You understand my dilemma. Seeming real and feeling real are different. Unless you are there at the time. I have always been able to find the exit sign the times I’ve visited in the past. Today that sign is invisible. At least to me. I can feel others coming and going while I’m here. I just cannot see them. It’s a place of emotional pain. I imagine it is for everyone who finds themselves here.
“I am a complicated person with a simple life.”
― Charlotte Eriksson
Who am I? I suppose in the end. I’m just me. Who are you? You are you. That sounded a lot like Dr Seuss, didn’t it? Maybe we can simplify who we are. Or at least how we answer the question. For me. I love, like, honor, and try to do the next right thing. I never lie, cheat, or steal, and I am always faithful and loyal. When a person describes me after I’m gone. I would love for them to remember those things of me. I lost my dad in November 2011. These are the “filters” I use when I speak of him. He wasn’t perfect. He had feet of clay like all of us. But he was a good man. A good person. Those who remember him remember him as a great friend and a man’s man. He had a simple wisdom that I hear in my head when I make decisions. To me, he defined being a man. And I want to be like him. Not perfect, but good.
Who am I? A little lost, scared, confused, and broken. Who are you? Well. We walk the same road daily…