One evening long long long ago, a giant lizard died. One day not so long ago, its bones were dug up and suddenly it was a dinosaur. One day at some point in time, a wolf gave birth to the first dog. Every night people go to bed a man, a mother, a wife, a husband, an immigrant or a worker and wake up a father, a grandmother, a widow, an ex-husband, a citizen or an unemployed.
People who don't like themselves feel trapped in who they are. I feel paralyzed in fear of changing. And, true to form, I feel trapped in feeling afraid of the change. I've accepted and to some extend embraced the fact that things and people around me change. But I am Me. I am God. What if I change, and then wake up one morning realizing I've become Not-Me - and by extension Not-God? What if I try to change and realize that I've lost the ability to? Or, horror of horrors, what if I become Not-God, and don't notice because I no longer can? I've seen the incredible powers human minds possess to shape themselves for whatever purpose; the power of manipulation, suggestion, hope, belief. It's like trying to trust every ant in an anthill.
All the little pieces that make up a "me", they're all necessary, right? Like the single stone that tips the scales, one piece might be all you need to remove to make the scales go the other way and suddenly I'm someone else. So what if I let my cramping fingers rest and go along some more with change, and then break one of those essential pieces? I wish I knew which pieces were required. Of all the things I love, if I lost them I would miss them but if I lost me I might not love them anymore, and for some reason that's so much worse. But things that stagnate rot and die. Lizards are alive and well, dinosaurs are dead.
If you were stranded on a deserted island, what single part of yourself would you bring with you?
