I walk into work most days. It is pretty convenient, and I get to walk along a brook of sorts. It’s precious “good” thinking time. I have plenty of “bad” thinking time, but the fresh air, purpose and grandiose inflation of power does me an exceptional good. Lately this good thinking time has led me to ponder exactly who I am. It is a bizarre question.
My overriding conclusion is that I am a hybrid. Or I have identity crises. Or there is some sort of mental meltdown going on. I shall explain the former.
On campus, I have seen a surprising number of Northumberland flag car stickers. I have one as well, and I delight in seeing them. I am proud that I am a Northumbrian (also, a Geordie). But, whenever I am asked where I am from, I have a compulsion to mention Kent, too. Kent is a hugely historic and culturally important place, too. But no car stickers…
I approach life with Buddhist motives (but I could not claim to be a Buddhist), yet I have my moments. I revel in technology and buy luxurious things, but I am just as happy (happier, maybe?) when I remove myself from this inventory.
There are other ways in which I consider myself to be a contradiction of ideals or constructs. I desire to be “normal”, but I also revel in my uniqueness. In so many ways, I still do not really know who I am and this has irked me lately.