Bird Out of Water?

Her whole life, she thought she was a fish. She lived in a little bucket, swimming around in circles. Then one day, the corroded bottom of the little bucket (that had been her whole world) fell out. She fell to the ground. She thought she would die. She flopped, and she fought. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She was certain she wouldn’t live. Exhausted from flopping and fighting, for the first time in her existence, she became still. She resigned herself to the inevitable. In her stillness, she began to look around her. After being in the bottom of a bucket forever, the light around her was overwhelming and washed everything in white. She couldn’t see a damn thing. Then she realized she was not suffocating. Her eyes adjusted to the light. The things around her began to take shape. She could see the blue of the sky, the mountains, and the flowers. The loveliness of them inspired the strength she felt she needed to examine herself. Cautiously, she extended a fin, and realized for the first time that it wasn’t a fin at all. It was a wing. No wonder she hadn’t been a very good fish.

Moral of the story: when the bottom falls out, you figure out who you really are.

The Beginning

It was a journey that began many years ago. She was sitting at a desk. The ache had been building for some time. Undefinable, at first. But slowly, over time, and moment by moment, it came into focus. She held onto her rung of the corporate ladder. Scampering from one rung to the next, but never getting very high up. One year a raise, maybe the next year, too. Maybe a new job title. But when the clarity came, she knew what the ache was. She was a glorified secretary. Knowing, as she did, that there was nothing "wrong" with that, she struggled to make sense of the ache at the core of her soul. Why should that bother her? There are many secretaries. They are necessary in the scheme of corporations. They are useful. She took pride in knowing that she gave her best. She did a good, thorough, competent job. Pleasant and polite, hardworking, trouble-shooting, goal oriented, working well with others...It would have made a beautiful resume. She was all of those things and more. More. Surely, there must be more? Therein was the ache.

The ache turned into anger and resentment as she went through a vicious cycle of first trying to define and then trying to deny it. This process happens most commonly when competent people are overworked and under appreciated. Moreso when they secretly desire to make a difference in the world.

Then one day the little glorified secretary was asked (in the most well intended way): What do you do?
She knew the answer, had answered the same question without thought countless times before. But, on this particular occasion, the question struck the ache. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, with a great caterpillar of a question blowing smoke in her face and asking: Who are you?

Isn't it a shame, she thought, that people are defined by what they do for a living? Packaged up into neat little boxes with bows and name tags. As if when one opens up a box, all of the contents are completely predictable. What kind of boring gift would that be to give or receive?

This is where she began to take an active role in the journey. Suddenly realizing that she could have some say in it. She marched straight to the looking glass, and asked the almost unrecognizable face that appeared in it: Who are you? The answer didn't come easily, as she thought it would. Nor was the answer "glorified secretary".

I was she. I recall her now as one would a distant memory of a dream.

Today, I can answer that question, "Who am I?". In most circles, "Who are you?" is much the same as, "What do you do?". But not for me. Not anymore. When I answer either question now, it isn't a job title. There is so much more to a person.