Who Are You?

As a lifelong, passionate writer, I equate writing with breath and each day I don’t write, I wonder who I am.

Years ago, my wise daughter noticed this very thing. And one day, Hayley clearly stated, “Mom, whenever you don’t write, you’re extremely grumpy!”

I was caught. Red-handed.

I wither when I don’t practice what’s most important to me. It raises the question of who we are. Are we defined by what we do? Is it our daily habits, rituals and decisions that shape our identity?

At the Starhouse in Boulder, Colorado, on New Year’s Eve, I attended a dance with the Dances of Universal Peace tribe. Timothy, the then-current dance leader, instructor, and musician, gave us food for thought. As we sat in the perimeter of the round building, he asked us this. Who are we without our labels? If we aren’t a mother, sister, brother, father, wife, husband? And so on.

It seemed like a riddle. And interestingly enough, I don’t recall his answer, if there was any to be given. I do remember my evident confusion, however.

And I ask you this: who are you without your labels? Does it matter? Would it change your life if you stripped away every label?

When strangers ask me what I do, I answer that I am a writer. Yet is that really who I am? Or am I a human being? And what is a human being, anyway, without our labels or connections to society, to family, to ourselves?

It’s something to ponder. Or not.

The thought streamed into my head early this morning, threaded itself throughout my dream state and was still with me when I awakened. And the idea pummeled me until I wrote it out, to get it out of my mind.

Just wondering.

And I would love to read your thoughts about it.

?