I was asked the question “Who are you?” at the age of nineteen.
I replied with my name, address, and age.
Wrong answer. These were merely statistics that applied to every other human on earth.
Who are you? I answered with my occupation.
Wrong answer. Another statistic that applied to everybody else too.
Who are you? My height and weight.
Wrong answer again, merely another statistic.
Who are you? A very haunting question for a young man, at that time in my life.
Who are you?
Each morning, I would look into the bathroom mirror and ask that question of myself: Who are you?
It took me another five years of my life to find out who I was.
By this time, I was married with four children.
Who
Are
YOU?
Who you are is defined by what you are. What you are is defined by how you see yourself. Who you are is defined by what you do. What you do is defined by the path you have taken in your life up until this point.
How you see yourself is defined by a very irregular set of guidelines.
You have to be... happy with who and what you are.
Yes, that's right... You have to be happy with who and what you are. Not to just say “Yes, I am happy”, and lie to yourself, and to the world. You do have to actually be happy, and comfortable with who and what you are, in the skin you are in.
This is no easy achievement in itself. It can be metaphorically likened to peeling an onion. Layer, after layer, starting with the tough outer skin. Each layer bringing tears to your eyes. Layer, after layer, after layer, each layer slightly easier than the last, tears streaming down your cheeks, till finally, you are at the core being. The very essence of “you“. And this is where you get to start. You will find at least one good attribute at your core, and from there, you start to re-build.
In my case, I had to have sink to my absolute lowest base level humanly possible, be able to look up, and see the incredibly faint light at the top of the hole I was in. I then had to climb back to the top of that hole, with the help of my wife and family, and I was DAMNED PROUD of that conquest. I could not have achieved this on my own. I don't know anyone who could do this on their own. Two steps forwards, one step back, and my wife there, always. Always behind me, stopping that second step back. Or the "out-of-control", inexorable slide back down to the bottom. It didn't happen in one day. It didn't happen in one week. You can forget about one month as well. My climb, scramble, crawl to the top of that hole took almost seven years. Once at the top, I was able to finally stop, look around me and see the world. Not the filthy, bloody, scarred walls of my hole. Not the dead, deep, embedded roots and tissues and nerves. Not the deep, stagnated, dead fossils, lost past-times, and memories of “...what if?” Just pure, clean, fresh air. Grass. Trees and hills. Sunshine. I was extremely proud of myself for having made those gains. I was extremely happy and comfortable in the skin I was in. I still am.
I have not been able to work since 1986 when I broke my spine. Yet, I am still happy and comfortable being me. I have put myself through university four times, in an effort to re-train myself to return to work. Each of the first three times was to no avail. I passed the courses, but couldn't fulfill the duties I had trained for. I was still happy, but not as happy as I could have been. The last course I did was my Diploma of Multi Media (Information Technology). I was so "at home" using new programs to create incredible stories, reports, pictures, art, creatures, and animations. I had found my dream pathway. I loved what I was doing. I loved what I did, and I still love doing what I do. Why? Because I am good at it. I excel at it. My mindset is... there is nothing I cannot do.
Some people may say I am arrogant - I don't care. I am proud. Some may say I am self-centered. Again, I don't care. I look out for me, and mine, to the death. Some say I am boastful of the small accomplishments I have made since climbing out - I don't give a shit.
Other people's opinions of me do not worry me in the least. They may look at my achievements and think they are small. I have no time for the small, petty-minded people who do not take the time, or make the effort, to see what has actually been going on in my own private life over the last twenty-two years. These small achievements are huge leaps to me.
People I thought of as friends quickly set me straight on that score. None of them are around today. The only true friends I have now, besides my family, are one's that have gone through some sort of adversity in their own lives.
The only way to be truly successful in life is to live life to the fullest, with your head thrown high and your shoulders thrown back, and to be one hundred percent confident in every single one of your God-given talents. To be one hundred percent confident in your being. To be one hundred percent confident in the way you look. To be one hundred percent confident in your “self”.
To be able to say “If people don't take the time to get to know me that is their loss certainly not mine”.
To be able to say “Yes, I can do that!”
If you can do this then you will be one hundred percent happy with the way you feel. If you feel one hundred percent happy, it will show in every step you take, both physically, mentally and metaphorically. It will show in each and every action you do, and in everything you say.
All these characteristics are singular, yet when you sum the total, they make up... YOU.
