Attempting to define and know who we are is as useful and possible as trying to catch and dissect an echo with our bare hands.
Try as we may we cannot fully know what has shaped us, what we are or may be. Countless lives ripple through our being. Infinite influences ripple through the nooks and crannies of our restless hearts and minds. Even if we were able contain our being and identity within a definitive meaning, what good would that serve, when it is our adaptive capacity and embracing the unknown that fuels our way into the future?
We can take all the tests ever created by every well meaning psychologist and shaman. We may filter our imagination through every philosophical model ever dreamt up, but this is idle vanity. Our poetry and engineering pales in the vastness of what we are. It is in this fragility we find our freedom.
The joy in every breathing moment is the mystery of our unbounded self and the wonder in everyone we have ever met and yet to meet. Our freedom is born out of our inclusiveness and openess to all and everything that is infinitely unknowable.
"And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
The Tragedy of Hamlet,
Act 1, Scene V
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