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Who am I?

That's the classic question that everyone asks himself or herself isn't it? Who am I? What am I doing here? What is the meaning of life? I mean, we're trying to find the answer to these questions yet most people haven't yet figured out how to leave a phone message answering my original question so as to avoid phone tag. But that's another issue.

As a kid I remember a friend saying "I told my mom that my toe is me, and she said it's not me." (Yet again, children attempting to answer such metaphysical questions even when they haven't yet figured out how to follow directions. Sorry, again I digress.) And you always hear the same sayings over and over again (which start to get old): "Your body isn't you, it's what's inside that defines who you are." or "What's on the inside is what matters." As an adult I started to understand how my job does not define who I am, but just something I do to earn a living.

But now I have a professor who says, "Your ideas are not you. Or your interpretations when counseling clients are not you." Well hell, those things came from INSIDE me, didn't they?

So who the hell am I? Cuz I'm not my toe, not my body, not my job, and now my bubble's been burst and I find out I'm not my ideas. Well, we're made up of atoms that are mostly space, so guess I'm a buncha nothin'.