Who Are You Really? 

 

Compelling and ever complex, the question "Who am I?" may remain forever unanswered, quietly fall to the background, or perhaps be illuminated by an immense a-ha that opens you to a whole new way of seeing.  A fantastic mystery isn't it?
 
Defining Ourselves
At birth you get a name, (be it unique, bizarre, painful, or like being one of "27 Jennifers.")  You associate with the name and respond when you hear it called.  It begins to mean something to you, defining you a little.  You become someone's child and later become a student, friend, leader, girl/boyfriend, adding more descriptors to flesh out YOU.  Eventually you're a _______ (insert career title) and love it, devote to it, or grumble about it daily wondering how you got in such a mess.  One day maybe you choose to be a parent, caring for a wee one's every need.  And so it goes.  Much of our time is spent accumulating our definitions and seeing where we "fit" in the world.  It's what we do.
 
What We Aren't
Monday I went to the DMV to get a new license and change my name-- celebration!  I had it all planned out, I'd be Robin Peglow Berg, making Peglow my middle name.  Easy breezy.  Shockingly, as of that morning the law had changed and I could no longer do that (due to identity theft issues in CO).  What?!  You kidding me?!  Suddenly I was faced with unexpectedly surrendering my name that had been part of my life for 38 years.  Although I was tired of spelling it, I was kind of attached!  What would I do in my business, how would people find me, what if they got me confused with someone else? (Translation: Will I disappear?)  Well, I made the change to Robin A. Berg, and grumbled and grappled all the way home, as it further nudged my inquiry of who I am, and who am I not. 
 
Rationally I know that I am not my name.  It's the ego or emotional part that wants a place holder in the world and clings to my familiar definition.  I know rationally I am none of the definitions we accumulate.  And yet this year with two moves, de-cluttering/donating, selecting new stuff while remodeling a home, creating a wedding to feel like "us," and changing my name-I keep bumping into the illusion of what I think I am.  It's downright confusing.  No wonder my 92 year-old Grandmother who moved 3 times last year is confused.  Right!
 
Letting Go
Now that I have a great home office, mostly phone clients, on-site presentations, and a handful of in-person groups/ clients, I decided to let go of my fulltime office and seek something one day a week, uber close to home.  Within two days of giving my notice, my landlady had it rented.  I cried.  I'd mostly decided but not entirely!  It represented yet another layer of releasing what isn't me although the office did define a significant time of my life and house many positive, healing memories.  
 
As I pack up books, take down my framed certifications and a couple recognition awards, I feel emotional.  Letting go of it all and wondering who am I without this stuff, this place.  Endings fold into new beginnings.  I've experienced the way of the world--when we clear space, there's room for new possibilities to enter.  In order to find my true love, I had to release old ways of being.  I must trust my inner guidance now, release what is no longer necessary, and walk through the unknown toward a new version of life filled with possibilities.
 
The Quiet Voice
Within each of us is a quiet voice, a gentle voice that knows.  It knows nearly everything we need to know when we turn down the volume of our minds and the outside world.  It is our very best guide, our wisest resource.  Whether you consider it you or God/universe working through you, it is available to every one of us.  It knows that even without your job, income, roles, awards, titles, house, cars and offices, your life matters and you inextricably exist.  Every person has a powerful essence of life regardless of whether they sit, stand, walk, run, or roll in a wheelchair.  That essence is the stuff of life.  That is the me that breathes and simply IS peace when I meditate or feel the sweet sunshine on my face.  It is the part of me that has nothing to prove, effortlessly emulates love and is radiant with the light of life.  Like all solutions, it is simple and yet not necessarily easy.  To find me, I must simply practice "being."  In many ways, who I am is more the absence of all that I am not.