Finding Yourself

For some reason, the phrase "finding yourself" has been popping in and out of my brain for the past two or three days.  It kind of makes me think of two things: the character of Joey Potter from Dawson's Creek and the song by Daughtry called Home.  I heard that song for the first time as I was driving over the Howard Franklin bridge to go meet the ex, "D," off the Dale Mabry exit near downtown Tampa.  It was during one of the weeks that I had returned to Florida, and he didn't feel like driving all the way back to the beach condo from one of his stores in Lake Wales.  Can't say I blame him.  That's kind of a long drive-especially after working all day and especially in Florida's evening traffic nightmare. 

I remember thinking, what a great song.  It describes exactly how I feel right now.  I'm home-for now.  I have to find a way to make it back for good, because this is where I found myself.  This is where I'm happy.  This is where I'm free.  Love has that aphrodisiac effect at times.

Now, we won't divulge my love affair with Dawson's Creek.  Episodes are available for review on YouTube for those of you too young or too old to be acquainted with the show.  And really, it's just another example of how we gravitate towards characters (and actors' interpretations of them) that are in some way like our own selves.

What I've realized recently is that home isn't a particular geographic location.  Finding yourself isn't something that ever gets completed.  Well, unless you've achieved sainthood, buddhahood, grown a pair of angel's wings, ascended to the Source, or whatever form you choose to believe in.  But, while we're here on this planet-walking with our feet on the ground-we're never done.  How could we be?  It's somewhat ludricrous to think that what we think of ourselves is going to end with the next pit stop.

I fell in love in my early 20's for the first time really.  I was ready to give up anything and everything just to be with someone who couldn't decide what they really wanted.  Burned divorcees can be like that.  They've been hurt and they're afraid of being happy with someone else.  I worked for a company that I loved for awhile.  I had a wonderful initial four month experience that I wished could go on forever.  I soon realized that you can't duplicate what was in its exact form-even if it's in the same environment with the same people.

The reason is simple-we're the one that changes.  If not outwardly, we certainly do on the inside.  Each experience, each person we encounter changes us somehow.  We don't always know why or even realize it until it's over.  I don't think this change always happens deliberately either.  All I can say is that some of the best and richest experiences that I've come out of have all started with one thing-an inexplicable pull or gut feeling.

When you allow yourself to follow those, there are no guarantees.  There are no plans, no blueprints, and often no vision.  You just walk towards that pull and find yourself in the midst of an unfolding experience.  Somewhere within that experience you begin to realize that you're becoming something you didn't think you were.  You discover something larger than your own comprehension of who you are and who you should be.  You begin to realize what you really want, what makes you tick for the moment, and maybe a piece or two of your current journey's main purpose.  Finding out who you are takes nothing more than the willingness to listen to your own silent voice.  The dance of life begins within.

You just have to realize that nothing, not even our own soul, remains frozen.