My entire life has been about identity.
Recognizing one. Sustaining one. Not letting one go running off into the shadowy night, never to return. Of tenderly loving one. Viciously protecting one. Keeping one private. Exploding one onto the scene. Letting one evolve without much guidance. Carefully sculpting one.
In all the years I've lived, I never knew how important and incredibly liberating "knowing thyself" would be... until now. Time has passed, songs have played, artwork has been created, careers have come and gone, and memories have overflowed this ornate goblet of my life and saturated every inch of my being with gratitude.
Our identities, so masked by our insecurities as to disfigure them, are precious and constantly morphing... twisting and turning, fitting in everywhere and never fitting anywhere. Who we are, constantly bouncing off of color and light and those we love and those who frighten us into retreat.
Today, I am not sick, but I will be tomorrow. Today, I am generous, but tomorrow I am selfish. Today I am crying, but tomorrow I am rejoicing. Evaporation, condensation, precipitation, accumulation... and it repeats. And our souls are the cycle of the sun. Identity, cradled ever so gently today... will tomorrow be thrust into the space between myself and the stars, and where it is deposited will send quakes through the universe.
I know who I am, because I know who you are. I know it will all go crumbling before it is built again, because I saw you fall apart just before you became the beautiful and powerful being that you are today. I am so proud of you, so proud of me... so proud of how far we have come despite tripping over those ripples as they ricochet off the heavens. We go tumbling in, and gracefully acknowledge the shifting cells as they sparkle and transform.
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