The time has come, The Walrus said, to define ourselves in 160 characters…

Posted on Mar 3, 2013 in Me | 0 comments

  Could you answer the question “Who Are You?” please. In three sentences, if you don’t mind!?

Apparently “adventures, opinions and incoherent ramblings’ is not an appropriate way to sum up my writings or me as a person.  It is time, according to Dave, to say something to the world about who I am and what I am doing.
Everyone does this, we have to.  Linked In profiles, twitter, facebook cover photos, it’s like one decision after another about how to present ourselves to the world.  On top of this, I’m writing a book so there’s extra reason to let people know what it’s about, and that means, by the very nature of the book, letting people know what I’m about.  In one sentence.

Cue three days of torture.

Since leaving The Old Life, I’ve been quite happy flitting around as The Girl Defining Herself; skillfully skirting away from any word, movement or grouped action that may grab my identity with its slippery little fingers to trap me in a set way of thinking.

At some point though, you have to stop presenting yourself through the things that happened in the past and choose some labels, however clunky they may be, that say something about you in the present.  If not the future, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

A large part of the difficulty is not the question ‘Who Am I?’ (this being quite the most pathetic sentence in the English language and a catalyst for navel gazing, tummy scrubbing pointlessness when attempted to be answered in less timeframe than a decade) but more ‘What do I do with this Christianity stuff?’

It’s not as simple as just forgetting about it.  Resumes, dates and credit applications are just a few of the pragmatic situations where it can’t be ignored but primarily it’s my mind that won’t let it go.  I live in a constant state of comparison, of amazement at the way my brain used to see reality and the implications of these teachings on the rest of the world.  It would be completely unnatural for me to cage these experiences off in a dark corner as if they never existed.  From deep within, there is a compulsion to speak and write about it.

At the same time I cringe at Atheist blogs and documentaries almost as much as a believer. I’d imagine anyway.  They’re just so… angry.  And rude. And even though I know they’re not, they sound bitter because they’re rightly speaking against things they believe are wrong.  It’s so very difficult to write a piece stating an opinion opposing a religious thought and not have these three tones come though, angry, rude and bitter.  I’m not though, any of these things.

On top of all this it’s clear that, in a very real way, I am scared to throw my anti-Christianity in the bin just like we’re afraid to break up with average boyfriends because then we’ll be alone.  It’s my mask, my couch, my blanket and comforting excuse for Not Doing All That Much.  If I’m not The Girl Defining Herself because of The Cataclysmic Change that happened, what am I?

Nothing special.  How terrifying.  

Somewhere in the middle of these extremes lies the future.  The removal of the experience as a part of my exoskeleton and the placing of it on a shelf so I can continue decorating the rest of the house. A way to accept the past and use it’s energy to propel me towards a future.

And so I do what I’ve always done and turn towards the source of all knowledge, a little word starting with ‘G’.



Bit of light reading over your coffee?