Some days I enjoy being me. I love what I do, I am grateful for the freedom I have to do what I do, and I am proud to have the abilities to do what I do. Other days, I cannot stand to be me. I am disgusted by what I do, I am frustrated for not being able to do any other way what I do, and I am displeased I cannot do more or better what I do.
I fluctuate up and down, I oscillate high and low, and I teeter twisting and turning doing what I do… oh, how hard it is to maintain a steady, stable, strong me! Yet, I would not think for a moment to stop doing what I do.
Maybe if I stopped doing what I do, I could bear being me on a few more days.
But I would probably lose a lot more days I could have enjoyed being me.
Maybe if I stopped doing what I do, I would not feel so lost.
But I would probably feel like I am going nowhere, standing still.
Maybe if I stopped doing what I do, nothing or no one can hurt me.
But I would probably be killing myself… if not right away, surely eventually.
Maybe you would call that being selfish?
Or maybe stubborn?
Maybe even silly?
Yes, I probably am all of the above, to you. But I am very serious about me, very sincere to myself, and above all, very sane throughout the time I am being me. And I suppose the same could be said of you.
So, maybe there is no sense in judging me on your scales.
And maybe there is no reason to compare my accomplishments with yours.
Maybe there is no point in measuring who is happier, you or me.
All I know is that I am fortunate to be allowed to do what I do. And whether I enjoy or cannot stand being me for doing what I do, I appreciate every moment of being me, being allowed to do what I do. Oh, how easy I have it to be simply me!