Perhaps that designation is redundant.
I still remember when I was 13 or so, and watching one of the boys in my class chasing a bead of mercury around his desk, and rolling it in his palm. I remember looking at that tight drop of silver and trying to wrap my mind around the idea that *metal* was doing that.
And now I find myself in a life-stage that seems very like that bead.
I am solid, I am “held together,” but I’m also moving quicker than I expected in unplanned directions. Things that have been givens forever are now in flux.
- I am a reader. I read like crazy, and always have a story, anecdote or factual information about, well, anything that might come up.
- But I haven’t finished a book in 2 months.
- I’m a writer.
- But I write very little these days
- I am a musician. I find both identity and peace in music
- But I am not dedicated in practice, and have let opportunities pass with relief
- For 30 years I didn’t think or care care much about what went in my mouth, now in 5 months I’ve completely overhauled my eating habits.
- And my exercise-life.
And of course there’s more, but that stuff is actually personal.
The point is, you ask me– yesterday, today or tomorrow– what I’m like or who I am (or is this who I am) and I honestly believe it would be truth to say “yes.”
I am not who I was, but it is not yet clear who I will be.
This is like adolescence + maturity. Not a fearful thing, only a happening thing. One I have been quietly reassured by ladies not-much-older-than-me is as normal in personal development as any other stage of Finding Oneself.
Only, here (at this age and life-stage) especially, I cannot forget that it is in Losing Self that I am found.
The delightful– and peace-offering– element in the midst of this is that I am far from unique in this flowing uncertainty:
Dear friends, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet been revealed. We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because we will see Him as He is.
1 John 3:2
This, most of all, is what I’m looking forward to. My uncertainty is a terrifically small thing when Christ is what, whom, I’m rolling toward.