"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
by any other name would smell as sweet."
~Shakespeare
Is it the name our parents gave us?
Or perhaps, the nicknames our friends
brought to the table? The education or
the career we chose? Who we married
or the number of children we have?
Where we live or the church we go to . . .
or maybe don't go to?!
I suppose we spend the first half of our
lives creating our personas and the second
half, trying to discover the essence of our
beings. I find it interesting that in turning
70, I am now so determined to discover
and understand that pesky question . . .
"Who am I?"
I get that I'm different, a total eccentric,
if you will. I know I'm a woman, a mom,
a teacher, a lover, a Pantheist . . . but do
any of these nouns truly define that
question of, "Who am I?" I actually
want . . . need . . . to know . . . before
I travel to that great unknown . . .
who am i pray tell
am searching for that essence
in need to know mode
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