Created

Reading time: 4 minutes

Themes: Introspection

Who are you?

Take a second and think about it. When you are asked, ‘what do you do?’ how do you respond? How do you perceive yourself when you think of your role in your social circles? Who/what do you aspire to be when you think of your future? I know who I am - or at least I think I do. We are the ones who get to decide the labels that we put on ourselves, and that is a beautiful thing. But although it’s the case that we control our own internal narratives, have you ever stopped to ask why it’s the case that we are compelled to do so in the first place?

We are social creatures by nature, and as a result, it feels essential for us to define ourselves by specific characteristics (oftentimes in the ways in which we are similar or different from one another). For the vast majority of human evolution, we have existed in groups and tribes. We are tribal creatures by nature - gravitating towards people who share our morals, goals, and ideas about which way of living works best. This dynamic makes sense in the grand scheme of Nature and in regard to the progression of our species (an individual is far less likely to succeed when progressing through the world in solitude rather than in a group). We all have something to contribute to the collective, and determining what that is for us as an individual takes paramount from a young age.

Some people find a niche in society that fits their interests quite effortlessly. A child who harbors lots of empathy and is fascinated by the workings of the human body will likely find theirs in the medical field. A separate child who embodies curiosity and effortlessly dissects their toys in order to understand their mechanisms will likely find theirs as an engineer. I want to revisit the question that I began with through this example. If you were to ask the children poised in the above examples, ‘Who are you?’ how would they respond? I suspect it would be quite a different answer depending on the child, but one thing for sure is that the answer would not be a doctor or an engineer. But if those children have the necessary skills and motivation to become a doctor or engineers one day, why don’t they respond accordingly when such questions are posed in adolescence?

We reason that they respond as such because they are children, not doctors - and fair enough. But what lies between them as a child and a doctor? The passing of time? The accumulation of knowledge and maturity? The initials beside their last name that raises them to a position more esteemed than most? Has anything changed about the inherent qualities of that child that made them more or less equipped to one day be a medical professional rather than an engineer? It’s an interesting thought experiment and one I present without an answer. But as far as I can tell, there seems to be an innate value much more profound than any occupation in which children might one day find themselves. With this realization, I’ve become intensely interested in what constitutes that innate value we bear as individuals and how that plays into our role in the collective.

When did we depart from viewing our progress in life through the lens of collectivism into the newly adopted individualism? I don’t mean to imply that we are undertaking selfish endeavors by doing so - quite the opposite, as most of them are wholly altruistic. Instead, it’s curious to ponder the individualistic world we all inhabit and at what point it became such. We focus exorbitant amounts of energy on our evolution as individuals. For what? To become what? Are we striving for a collective betterment or an individual edge up? During my daily walk this morning, this reality occurred to me. I looked first at myself, as I often do, and started taking stock of who I think I am in a way I haven’t previously.

I reasoned that I am an explorer, a seeker of knowledge, a traveler - ‘but that is just the way I make sense of the world.’ So what is below that?

I am a son, a brother, a friend - ‘but that is just the order in which I fall into my tribe.’ So what is below that?

I am a climber - ‘but that is what makes me feel most alive.’ So what is below that?

I am a photographer - ‘but that is just how I document beauty.’ So what is below that?

I am a spiritual being occupying a human body.

I am a child of God.

At its core, this feels reductionist - and it is. As organisms living in an increasingly disorderly and entropic world, it can help to take complex ideas and boil them down into all-encompassing principles. As someone who defaults to scientific reasoning, the reductionist peg finds its designated hole in my mind quite quickly. The conclusion I derived from my insight this morning goes like this: Our identities don’t come from what we do or how we think or engage with the world - they come from our Maker. Just as that little child seemingly destined to become a doctor will never exist as more or less from doing so when measured against their humanity, so our worth as people don’t lie in our achievements, hobbies, religion, politics, gender, age, race, citizenship, or features. It lies in our collective belonging.

It feels more important now than most in history to remember this fact. We are all navigating a world of increasing animosity, change, and adaptation. It can feel at times that our clinging to and emboldening of our identities is the only suitable way to navigate in such conditions. In reality, doing so only leads to increased narrow-mindedness and toxic tribalism. We are all one tribe, one race, one species - sons and daughters of the Most High. Any identity that takes paramount over such must be observed but not clung to. Our characteristics and operating modes in the world can guide us down paths of love, acceptance, and empathy for other humans, or it can do exactly the opposite. We must decide.

Thank you for reading, and much love.