August 26th, 2008
|10:56 pm - The nature of who I am|
Honestly? I wish this was a really cool post on, say, the nature of identity or something. Because that's a topic that religion and philosophy and psychology are never going to really agree on, and yet it's intrinsic to each of us. We must have a sense of ourselves if we are to act in this world in any way that isn't just reactive.
Which makes the sense of imminent changes a disturbing one.
I've changed before. And I know that regardless of what fears I am able to let go of, what new ways of creating and being I will be able to move in, what new realizations about God and others I find, I will still be me.
It's a mystery, but true.
So I don't need to be afraid of change. Just hold to the essentials and enjoy the ride. Right?
Current Mood: contemplative
Run for your life. Rose is still Rose when she takes the doctor's hand and at the end of it all. She's still Rose, in fact she is MORE Rose than she was before. She's fully herself in all the warriory glory.
And hey, I like you and I know you'll always be you even if you're not exactly as you are right now. And neither will I. And that's good.
Did that make sense??
Also, you are like my comparison and touchstone for this truth, you know. Because you are so, so different now from the girl I befriended/who befriended me at TWU; and yet if I hadn't seen you from that day to this, I would recognize you. In no truly fundamental way are you different; you are still essentially Kim.
Aw, you like me! *g*
I'm going to give you an extreme example of change without change: Paul.
Saul was a passionate, learned Pharisee who saw it as his duty to destroy Christianity. (Even his teacher, one of the most respected teachers of his day--and a non-believer--said that if Christianity was not from God, it would fail, and not to execute the apostles. See Acts 5:33 - 39.) I'm sure you know Saul was present at the execution of the first martyr. Such was Saul's passion. Then, on his way to persecute more Christians, he had his vision. After which he became one of the most influential leaders and teachers in the history of the Church.
Still the same man, with the intense passion and wisdom and knowledge, but his focus had done a complete 180. The things that made him inherently "Paul" did not change, but the focus of his energy did, and it changed the world.
So while your focus is changing as you adjust to new priorities, that which makes you "Sarah" won't change. Because God made you "Sarah" for a reason.
Mmm, yep, all good points, and a good example to boot. Paul is even the guy who said "I have become all things to all men, that by any means possible I might save some" but he doesn't seem to have lost his integrity by doing so. :-)
(I have really been watching too much Miami Vice. But it's such a good show.)
Right! I'm terrified of change, so it's always comforting to get together with my old college friends and find that, despite the babies and houses and jobs and further education and whatever, they're still the same people. Everything about them changed except who they really were.
Everything about them changed except who they really were.
Yeah. It's strange but true.
Right. However. Just knowing intellectually that we don't need to be afraid--of the dark, of change, of leaping from the lion's head--doesn't suddenly strip all the scary things of their power. Scary things are frequently scary independent of whether or not there is actually anything genuinely worth fearing about them. And the proof of courage, as so many excellent novels have shown us, is not in an absence of fear. It's in doing what you know you should despite fear.
So if you're scared, give yourself a break. It's okay to be scared; in fact it's probably best to accept the fear rather than trying to make it disappear. Fear makes the leap an act of heroism, where otherwise it would be nothing at all remarkable.
And me telling someone else to face fear is pretty much the height of hypocrisy. But just because I'm not very good at living up to my own advice doesn't necessarily mean the advice itself is invalid.
I agree entirely. Which, as you point out, doesn't make it any easier to actually practice. *headdesk*
It would be nice if I could reach a point where it doesn't take quite such a Herculean effort to "do what I should despite the fear"; I might get more done, and with a lot less angsty stressing about it beforehand. (Someone--possibly my pastor, or an author of something I was reading--recently pointed out that worry is "pre-occupation," or doing the work before you, y'know, actually have to do the work. No wonder it's so tiring! *g*)
worry is "pre-occupation," or doing the work before you, y'know, actually have to do the work. )
Oh, I like that very much, it's so true. Yes, this explains why worrying wears one out so easily.