An Essay A Day For A Year
By Roe
Day 28, January 28, 2012
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I find it odd that all we humans are in search of self. Where exactly is our self and why are we searching for it? Who am I? Where am I? And even if I knew the answers to those two questions, now what do I do? I must be someone. I must be here somewhere. I better go search for me and figure these things out. As a matter of fact I feel unhappy and unfulfilled, and so onward little lonely soldier I go searching to become happy and fulfilled. Maybe along the way I’ll even find myself. Maybe when I find my self that will be my happiness and fulfillment?
Am I the chicken or the egg? Is finding happiness and fulfillment going to reveal me? Or is revealing me going to find happiness and fulfillment? Descartes postulated “I think, therefore I am”. I think that French guy is definitely the chicken. As soon as he becomes aware that he can lay himself, he now exists. Me, I’m really sure that I am a fertilized egg. In truth I was me even before I was a fertilized egg. I was me when I was a perfect little spirit just out there in the universe in potential balance. Then I said “oh what the heck, why not!”, and I rode a ray of exquisite light down to Earth and helped Daddy drill into Mommy’s egg, and I assured Mommy that I was cool with it. Now I’m still me.
When my love-spark zinged into sperm-eggie-ness, I was me. When I walked down the dual DNA spiral staircase of Ma and Pa, I was me. I was me in Mommy’s tummy when I looked like a little reptile, and that was me that could have starred in a movie as a big headed alien. Towards the end of my time in my lovely Mommy home, I could feel all souls in the universe shining with me. “I am!”, I didn’t think, because I couldn’t think yet. But I still was. I heard Frenchie cognito-ing out there, and he seemed so excited to realize he was he when he thought about himself. I just smiled to all the unborn angels. All I heard was buh-blah-buh-blah-bluh, since I couldn’t understand language yet or even think. But “I am” was no less me, and my self was no less mine.
So it’s a funny question to ask, but “where did I go?” If I was my self before, during and after the great philosophers were postulating on self, and if I was my total me-self already inside Mommy, then maybe I lost my self? “Hello self! Come out, come out wherever you are!” How funny that life is like playing hide-and-go-seek with your self. “Peek-a-boo! There you are! Why you little angel, where have you been hiding? Why you poor little devil, what happened to you?” It makes a lot of sense that I have to look for you reading this when you don’t come home from fishing, or search for you after we had a fight and you ran off. But searching for my self, that sounds koo-koo. Nevertheless, every day I feel so unhappy and unfulfilled, and I pick up my little wooden shovel, and put my little soldier uniform on, and out I go in search of my self.
As I grew up I remember my me-ness struggling to remain me. “I want to play!” No, It’s time to eat. That was not me. “I want to eat”. No, it’s not dinner time, go and play. That was not me. “I don’t want to go to school, I want to go out and play.” No, you must go to school to learn. That was not me. “I want to stay inside and be with you”. No, why don’t you go out and play. That was not me. So I began to figure out that my me-ness was being greatly affected by the influences upon me, and as little me, there were very few influences that honored me. I just wanted to be me, and I always knew how to do that, even after I understood bluh-blah-bluh-blah. But I noticed that the world around me was intent on raising me to be me, and teaching me how to be me, and expecting me to be me. But no one noticed or asked me what I wanted. Me not understand.
Hi world. I am, and I was, long before me cognito or me ergo or me sum, buh blah buh blah. If I want to eat, just let me eat. If I want to play, just let me play. If I don’t want to do this and that, what are your qualifications in forcing me? I have very sound data (I’ve been conducting a survey since I was born) that you too world are unhappy and unfulfilled and searching for your self. “Hey world”, I thought, when I was quickly loosing me as a boy, “when you find happiness and fulfillment and your self, just live it, and let me live mine.” The answer I got from Ma and Pa and all those lost worlds around me was you gotta do this and you gotta do that and you gotta do this and you gotta do that and you can’t do this and you can’t do that and you can’t do this and you can’t do that...
ad-cognito-ergo-sum-infinitum- Maybe I lost my self in that very, very long sentence.
I wanted my parents and world to just be themselves, but the problem is I think that they didn’t know who they were either, yet they were all damn sure and hell bent to show me how to be me. I hoped that my world would show by example all their good manners and ethical behavior, and then I could decide whether that felt right for my self. I dreamed of seeing my parents and world living as fine upstanding citizens with compassion and good will for all, and then I could decide if that felt right for my self. Mom and Dad and world, if you feel that a fine education and the prestige of a lucrative career are your highest ideals, then show me how you educate yourselves and live lucrative and prestigious lives, and I’ll watch you and decide for myself if that feels right for my self. In the meantime, may I just remain my self? Maybe when I grow up I might not have to try as hard as you to find my self?
What is your investment Mommy and Daddy and world in influencing my like you do with all your have-to’s and cant's? “Well honey, well citizen, we just want the best for you. We just want you to be happy. We know what is best for you. We have been there, and we don’t want you to have to go through what we did. This is for your own good. You’re too young to understand. You’ll thank us when you grow up”. Come on readers, we could all sing the bluh-blah songs together. But somewhere in there I can at least say I lost me. And I spend a lot of my life now trying to find me again.
I would like to humbly offer Mom and Dad and world that if you want me to be happy just trust me to be me. The more you trust my me-ness and my own happiness and fulfillment and not yours, the more me I retain, and the happier I am, and by the way, you too. I have the right to be me and I deserve the freedom to be me, and I gain more by your successes at finding and living your own self, and that way I can choose to be my own self. I am not an extension of you or example of you or representation of you or dream of you or hope of you or success of you or failure of you or need of you or expectation of you or wish of you satisfaction of you or disappointment of you or pride of you or or win of you or loss of you or any you at all. I am me. Please let me be me?
“Of course honey, of course citizen, of course we want you to be you and will let you be you. We’re doing that already!”
I don’t think you got it Mom and Dad and world. Let me be more specific.
Please clean your own room to be you. Let me be me.
Please eat your own food to be you. Let me be me.
Please do your own chores to be you. Let me be me.
Please go out and play yourself to be you. Let me be me.
Please behave yourself to be you. Let me be me.
Please go to school yourself to be you. Let me be me.
Please do your own homework to be you. Let me be me.
Please work yourself to be you. Let me be me.
Please be responsible yourself to be you. Let me be me.
And there are many, many more Mom and Dad and world, if you would trust me or see me or value me enough to ask me. Did you ever think to ask if I wanted to do any of those things? Or if those things honored my special me?
I don’t want to be in search of self or happiness or fulfillment in my life. And I don’t need to think to be me. All I need is you Mom and Dad and world to know that I am already here. I already know what I want, and I already know what to do.
I am, therefore I am. (And by the way, so are you).
See you tomorrow.
yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com
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