Could it be me?

That one question that no one can really answer, no matter how they try to articulate their words to present an idea they like to be true. Who am I?

I used to think it’s a question I’ll be pondering for few years then leave it there unanswered, but it always keeps resurfacing every once in a while. Some answers can suffice for a certain time, then another answer arise and play with my thoughts.

What I’ve never thought about, is me having this question at my 30s. To an acceptable extent, I thought I would be aware of my real self and all the keys I need to unlock my potentials. I thought I would’ve figured out what I want, pursued it and eventually get it. But here I am, figured nothing new, pursued something different, and got another thing. Now I found out the only major difference is the level of acceptance of myself. So does it start from here? Does it start from accepting the unknown that resides in you, and somehow in the universe?

Socrates believed that you must think for yourself to find it. Yet Sir George Bernard Show had a different take on the self, one where you don’t find but create throughout your life. Is it really a matter of finding something or creating it? It doesn’t end here, and never will. As they are all only beliefs you can choose to start another journey.

Haven’t you ever wondered why is it really hard to describe yourself in couple of sentences?

Why is it hard, or even impossible to define the only thing we are born and living every second of our life with? Why can’t we comprehend the essence that drives our lives every single day? The one that shaped our values and decided what to like and dislike, what to understand and what to find a complete mystery. What made it very important that Richard Wright thought we can starve from a lack of self-realization as much as we can from a lack of bread?

Is it the soul we are seeking to fathom or something different? Does even the term “self” has any meaning that makes sense to our humble human minds?

Or is it another perspective of understanding life and how things work that we are able to see ourselves?

With all our attempts, it feels like collecting breadcrumbs to know only excerpts of what makes you yourself. And somehow as if this is how things will forever be, just attempts to collect the most we can get from what’s to be known about us. Where you might discover one part in the feeling of safety and belonging you find in others, as some believe it is only through those who love you that you understand yourself.

With all the constant changes in life, are we even supposed to have one fully shaped self at any point? If it is changing every day with every life event we experience, then how are we supposed to grab any sense of it at one particular moment?

I’ve always felt I’m searching for something but I don’t know what it is. Could it be me?