Skip to main content

The Riddle

We all have an identity that we believe is who we truly are. As if that identity is static from birth to death. It is how we define ourselves.

Ask me who I am and the reply will be – I am me. A man. A son. A brother. A father. A husband.

Yes yes of course.

But who are you really? What is this thing called identity?

I have been so many different identities.

Dishwasher. Cook. Baker. Carpenter. Contractor. Salesman. Graphic designer. Firefighter. Stay at home dad. Cyclist.

Lover. Tyrant. Romantic. Destroyer.

And spiritual seeker. Dreamer too.

But maybe an imposter as well?

Have I really been any of those things?

And when we lose an identity, what then?

Adopt a new one?

Do we add and shed identities like layers of clothing?

*******

How do we ever really know who or what we are?

How does belief cloak itself around us to create a way for us to show up in the world?

I want to please you. I will rebel against you. I am angry. I am sad. I am generous. I am stingy. I am cruel. I am compassionate. I am a student. I am a teacher. I am charming. I am sullen. I am cautious. I am reckless. I am the blinking cursor. I am the words upon the page.

Still I wonder, who really am I?

*******

I am Life.

For now.

And in death?

*******

I am Life.

Jamie Gilroy is a Mindset Coach working with men to unlock their fullest potential. Are you looking to tweak and improve some issues in your life? Are you interested in a free clarity call to investigate working with Jamie? Email him at jbgilroy@icloud.com Check out his website to learn more about the work he does: https://jamesbgilroy.com

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Life: Italian Style

This morning I woke up feeling just like I have the entire past month. Dog tired (even after eight hours sleep) and lacking the morning fire I’m so accustomed to. I could feel my frustration build as I mentally scrolled through all that I have to do today. It got even worse when I visited a couple of projects we have going and saw things either not moving fast enough (according to me) or done the way I wanted (again, according to me). Ahhhh. Yet again another beautiful day off to an ugly start. I mean obviously all the ugliness is inside of me as the rest of the world is clearly oblivious to my inner turmoil. That’s cool. So I stopped by the Atomic Café for my morning cappuccino (yeah, yeah, I got it rough huh?) which Andrew so generously gave to me no charge. That was the beginning of a subtle shift inside me. Mellissa was bopping around behind the cash register and I could feel the energy just crackling off of her as she greeted customers as if each one was her favorite pers...
3 comments
Read more

Waking Up with the What Ifs

Apparently last night I had been dreaming of a life I left behind 11 years ago.  Snippets of memory like peering through a gauzy veil, and scenes vaguely reminiscent of my life as a builder in a small coastal town north of Boston. I woke up with the What Ifs. You know how dreams are: like your eyes can’t completely focus, situations that are seemingly disconnected but maybe not, faces you know but can’t place, yet the feeling in the dream is quite real. I was back in Old Town and trying to figure out why the house I was in was unfinished. There was a meeting to be had there, but it was just me. I walked down a cobbled street to what I figured to be the office of the architect and it was a room of all glass and about 10 people seated around a glass table. I tried to get the attention of the man who was the architect on this particular job without disrupting the meeting. He looked like a friend who wasn’t an architect but a realtor and a neighbor.  I wondered how he switched care...
4 comments
Read more

Renovation Anyone?

I had an unusual dream the other night. It was about a client who was upset that she had changed the design of her project and felt like she had made a mistake in doing so. Now the project was built, and what was she to do? We were talking over the phone and I could tell she was struggling to get her words out without getting emotional. I thought this a little odd but didn’t have any real judgment about it – I just listened. As she spoke she got more and more upset and she began to cry. Finally I said what to me seemed like the obvious. I said that she really didn’t have to get so distraught, there was nothing a sawzall and a nail gun couldn’t fix. And you know what? In that moment I said that with 100% conviction. Like talking to someone who was sad it was dark in their room and me saying to them then just turn on the light. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief after that and then the dream ended. I mentioned the dream to Meg the next morning and she laughed. Meg in her l...
Post a Comment
Read more