The older I get, the better a job I do of being myself. I think of all the times I did things or acted in certain ways just to fit in or be liked. I have never been fully aware of how far I've strayed from me until after I've course corrected. I couldn't swear that I am me today. But I do think I'm MORE me than ever before.
The hopes and fears part comes in when you consider the cost of being you. For example, the cost of being me might mean that my business is not as successful because I'm not a "yes man". The reward is that the clients that I DO have appreciate and value my input. Another cost of being me is that I'm bound to grow old without children to take care of me. The reward is that I have no children making me old before my time...haha.
So while being yourself is, of course, a hope, it can also be a fear. (Isn't it funny how, in the Ace of Pentacles, there's that odd tentacled thing watching over her as she sleeps? It's like a fear hovering above a hope.) Anytime you choose one thing in your life, there are other things you leave in your wake. Sometimes being you means ending a relationship, changing careers or walking away from comfortable situations. Sometimes being you means going it alone or facing difficult truths. Sometimes being you might even mean that the cost of being you is too much to pay. There is a lot to fear, just as there's much to hope for.
Another thought is the part where she says the flower blooms "in its own garden." I think this is talking about how you don't have to go anywhere or do anything special to find yourself. I remember the woman who wrote Eat. Pray. Love. said that ultimately she didn't need to travel the world to have her awakening. While some may think getting out of your element—out from under the influence of a "not you" life that you're living—is a valuable thing, I can also see how immersing yourself in your environment can provide just as much value.
I remember years ago on Oprah, someone said "describe your home in three words." Among my words would be colorful, warm, comfortable, artsy, cluttery/a lot going on. Then they said "the three words that describe your house, also describe the real you." I'm good with that. I've heard others call my house peaceful and safe. I like those words, too. I'm not a white walls—or even a white ceiling—kind of person. On the other hand, there are some things about this house that haven't changed since the day I moved in because I'm not motivated enough to change them, outdated as they may be. That says something, too.
Ultimately "who we are" is an elusive thing. We grow and evolve so much that if we're still working off the model of who were 10 years ago, or 5 or even a year ago, then we're not living our full truth. Sometimes I find myself talking about things I'm no longer passionate about—things I never pursued in the moment—thinking that they're still my dreams. But in reality, they're not. Likewise, new ideas creep into our heads and capture our imaginations and they're no less relevant just because they didn't occur to us once in the first 50 years of our lives.
I like that I can still surprise myself. I like that I can still shed skin. But it's relevant to note that we could spend a whole lifetime in pursuit of who we are meant to be without ever being and enjoying who we actually are. The trick is to be like the flower, continually unfolding while also enjoying the fragrance of now.
No comments:
Post a Comment