How Do You Breathe?

Who am I?

It’s a simple question, but profound. The way you answer this question shows what you value about yourself and what you despise, the way you view yourself and the way you believe others view you, the image you see in the mirror and the one you project to the world. It shows your priorities, your passions, your very being, in a few simple words or as many as it takes. It shows your relationships to other people and theirs to you, and it shows how you view these relationships, if you choose to list them all, by the order and adjectives attached. A simple question, but multifaceted, and the answer is never as easy as it seems at first glance.

It’s easy to lose sight of who you are in a crazy busy world like this. It’s easy to trim an edge here and smooth a rough spot there to fit into a mold of who you think you should be, or who someone else thinks you should be. It’s easy to adapt, become what you need to be or what others need you to be in a given situation. It’s easy to fill your schedule and your mind and your heart with these things, things that distract you from that core you, the one that surfaces when you start to ask yourself this question. And it’s necessary sometimes, to put aside something you love for another’s benefit, to sacrifice time you’d rather spend elsewhere in order to accomplish something worthwhile. It’s necessary to make a living even if you despise your job, to interact with coworkers or fellow students or even family that you’d rather avoid but are obligated to spend time with. It’s necessary to put yourself on hold sometimes.

But being on hold is never supposed to last long. And if you leave yourself on hold, if you continue to deny certain parts of yourself, you may lose sight of them entirely. You find yourself one day struggling to catch your breath, wondering where all of your time is going, desperate to renew yourself but unsure of how to go about it – because the self you want to renew is withering away, the fire flickering out.

And that would be a shame. The world needs you, to fulfill all that you were sent here to do. If you replace that with the generic and the necessary entirely, there is a void that no one else can quite fill.

This is something I’m struggling with lately. I’ve been sticking to the necessary, the urgent, the parts of my life that demand so much of me that I leave who I am on hold. It’s necessary, of course – I can hardly make what I need to do for a living harmonize with what I need to do for myself – but I’ve found it’s not enough. I’ve been on hold too long. I’ve lost sight of bits and pieces of myself. And it hurts, to realize this, to share it, to see how it’s affected those around me. I need to find it again, to take the time and rediscover who God made me to be.

So how would I answer this question, who am I? How does this help me stop leaving myself on hold? It’s simple, really. I’ll even give you a list.

I am a writer – so I need to write, to take the time and let my words flow from my mind to my fingers to my screen or paper. I need to allow thoughts to become ideas and ideas to become characters, plots, worlds of their own.

I am a dancer – so I need to take the time to dance, even when my energy is drained, even when I have so little to offer, even when my movements are clumsy and my feet stumble. I need to allow my worship to flood my body and move my hands and feet, allow myself to experience it with all of me physically, mentally, emotionally.

I am a perpetual student – so I need to let myself learn, to set aside time and resources and materials. I need to inundate myself with the knowledge I thirst for, the wonders of God and His works and the minds He bestowed upon mankind which allow them to discover so much. I need to allow my curiosity to be insatiable and follow it where it leads.

I am a child – of God, and of two amazing parents, which makes me a blood sister to three wonderful siblings and spiritual sister to countless more. So I need to allow myself to be a child, to experience the wonder of darkness transforming to light or new life springing forth out of death. I need to let the weight of the world slip from my shoulders and rest on the ground, then allow those wiser and stronger than me to share the load and teach me how to bear my part. Teachable, excitable, joyful, hopeful – a child once again.

And when I do, I’ll find my days will be more fulfilled. My self will be renewed. And my breath will come easier and easier until I can breathe deeply once again.

What about you? What is your answer to the question, who am I? What are the things that keep you refreshed and renewed, able to deal with the mundane in a way that makes it extraordinary? How do you breathe?