|Know thyself, in ancient Greek|
I didn't like me because I wasn't capable of seeing myself soberly. What I saw when I looked into myself (usually at night when I was alone in the dark of my room) was a scared, disappointed, hurt, and lonely person. I saw the negative remarks I heard around me, and the resulting shame I thought I should feel for being dissatisfactory to others. I wasn't a carpenter like the rest of the men in my family, and I wasn't a regimented and orderly engineer-type like I thought my mother's family was. I was too different to be acceptable, therefore I didn't accept myself, and that resulted in a shame-based identity. And that shame came out in fear-based searches for an identity that modelled who I'd like to be, ideally: Indiana Jones. I didn't like me, but I really liked Indiana Jones.
All these years later, however, I still haven't completely shed the shame-based identity of that little boy. I still haven't been able to make a coherent picture of who I actually am. The difference now is that I'm eager to know myself because, at bottom, I really have no other recourse than to come face-to-face with myself if I want to actually live, if I want to be a genuine person, if I want to embrace the moral complusion that "Know thyself" implies on a person to be fearlessly real.
|Who I am|