I was under the belief that most of my problems stem from a lack of self-understanding. I thought because I didn’t understand or couldn’t even pin down what I am or what I should be defined as was all leading me down the road of inactivity.

But now I think it has nothing to do with my inability to understand who I am. I think what has stunted me is my own compulsion to define the indefinable. I will never know who I am because in any given day I am many things. By keeping myself from understanding that there doesn’t have to be just one thing that will encapsulate all that I am, I lead myself into a self-indulgent no way out maze.

Also, who cares what is my definition. What matters more is my actions. The labels are nothing when compared to what actions can accomplish.

For me, trying to figure out what I am has been a haunting process. Every time I think I got it figured out, something new comes along and shatters my new theory. I know it will never end, but yet I used to think it was important to define myself because things would be easy. I would have a plan to follow. If I were a writer, there would be a set path I could follow. A map of sorts if you will.

But now I understand that life should never be lived by a map. Too many variables come into play and will throw you off your course. Then, for me, when thrown off course, I think then I was following the wrong path and I close down. For me, things are always black and white. You are either with me or against me and there is no in between.

Everyday I am learning that isn’t the case. Things aren’t cut and dry. Just because someone doesn’t answer an email doesn’t mean they hate me and want me dead.

I don’t need to sit in this unmoving haze and try to “figure me out”. I need to act.

It isn’t about what I am it is the fact that I am.