“WHO are YOU?”
That is the question, isn’t it? Asked of Alice by the Caterpillar, it’s actually the crux of the whole story: who IS Alice? She’s not a little girl anymore, neither is she grown and ready to enter the constrained world of the adults (where for the time period she will have even fewer rights and freedoms than a child).
So who are you? This is a question I’ve been pondering because of something that happened at work. My boss mentioned that a guest had handed him a card and he said it was like a business card, but with only his personal information on it.
“Oh, a calling card.” I told him.
I got a somewhat blank stare.
“I have them.” So I got mine out (I keep them in a cigarette case because they are slightly oversized) and handed him one.
He stared at it a moment and then said,”This is very sophisticated. You should get something that reflects your personality.”
I’m almost certain he didn’t mean that as an insult. I just stood there before I uttered a profanity, turned and walked away. But that got me thinking.
Who am I? Clearly who I know myself to be is not what others are seeing. Are you your public persona? I hold that you are not. You are not subject to whims of whatever snap judgments people choose to make based on what they see (which is obviously, to me, not the whole story).
Yes, no matter how hard I try to keep my shirt tucked in and wrinkle free I always arrive to work looking like I slept in my clothes. Yes, I speak in superlatives and am very enthusiastic about things I like. And yes, I like Nickelback and comic books. But those things don’t reflect who I am or how I see myself. My calling cards do. Ecru card stock with red script, just my name and my e-mail address (e-mail because I prefer to write to people rather than talk on the phone). Simple: my favorite color, my name -my whole name which is actually what I prefer – middle name included, and my favorite way of communicating.
THAT is who I am.