I remember a time when my world was something I would have envied, should it not already have been mine. Sure, I’ve always been prudent, but somehow I’d never questioned who I was or what I liked. I feel like in a way, I was confident in myself, but never outside of myself.
Life sure was easy as a kid, I definitely don’t deny this. The further back I look into time, the easier it was for me to connect to people, and to adventure and imagine and create. I wasn’t struggling with my identity as a medium, I was wielding it as a looking glass.
Some days I’d like to see life through those eyes again. Maybe I would become inspired… reinvigorated with my sense of self and desire to humour the unfamiliar.
“a positive thinker and a mind of his own outgoing, adventurous and one who dares to be different and be his own man will go the extra mile for a friend, or to have others say ‘job well done’ sharp, witty and clever of speech, words flow from him loves the challenge of the unknown, testing both his body and soul a lover of life and his freedom”
This quotation has been framed in my bedroom for as long as I can remember. It is quoted beneath my given name, so I presume it is laid out as my destiny of sorts. The meaning behind my name; my birthright.
I remember as a boy, I would read this quote often, and somehow it would always reaffirm how I felt about myself. I would go down the lines and nod in approval, or smile at the idea of something greater designating me of all people to be this charmed, extraordinary person.
I almost find it funny how confident I was in myself back then. So much as to even think of myself as this princely child who’s cards always fell in line–my karmic destiny a force to be reckoned with. But I was humble and gracious. At least that’s how I remember myself!!
Now I read this quote and I couldn’t feel more distant. This quote does not describe me. This has not become my destiny. And yet that is still my name. I feel betrayed by the universe in many ways. My identity has escaped me and my confidence has been pilfered by an illness I am reluctant to address. What is the use in naming it? It seems to me a name is but a vestige of deceit.