Rhonda Sue



Recent Musings:

July, 33.

"In the night my heart instructs me."

Stewarding.

Structure-less.

Empty.


Rhonda's Main Page

Who I've been; who I am?

Saturday, August 16, 2008
So I'm still unemployed and it's been almost four months since graduation. I'm closer now to having a job I want than I have been in the previous months, yet I am profoundly aware of what a new perspective I have on who I think am.

I suddenly have a hindsight into my life that's surprising and shocking me. I've realized how much throughout my life I've been defined (or have defined myself) by the activities I've been involved in. In fact, I've allowed myself to associate and 'be like' the people in those activities without ever making a conscious decision to actually be like those people, so kind of "identity by association" mentality. (For instance, I didn't take the time to find out about my fellow soprano OR share any of myself with her; I assumed that because we're in this mutual activity together, we were the same or similar based on who she was.) I've probably even formed friendships based on the activities we shared. Basically, the way it seems to me is that now that I have no activities to define me (I'm no longer in school, I don't have a job, I'm not in any volunteer groups, I have no tight clique of friends here, I have no home church), I find myself to be void of personality, conversation and identity. Seriously. I'm repeating this because it's so hauntingly true - I find myself to be void of personality, conversation and identity.

This strikes me as pathetic and depressing. Not because it is - I think many of us could agree that our activities play a large part in who we become - but because I'm aware that without the activities, I've dwindled to a nothingness. It's scary to me that in order to give myself purpose and shape each day, I have to start lining up a list of things to be involved in; it makes me seem so shallow. I've also realized how little of myself I actually share with others; I have a few friends that know me about as well as I know myself, but generally I just allow the other person to know me as a reflection of who they are, much like a chameleon or a copy cat of an already shaped identity.

I recently heard a sermon about how Ezekial (I think) was asked by God to eat a scroll - literally - and when Ezekiel ate that scroll, it tasted as sweet as honey to him. The pastor explained that sometimes God asks us to go through bitter experiences and although we fight and resist to eventually give in, we may discover that the taste left in our mouth by the experience is sweetness of honey and not the bitterness we expected. In my current situation, this analogy helps me to look at a bigger picture and open my eyes to what God may be teaching me in this life situation - if I have always allowed myself to be defined by my job, my church, my friends, my hobbies, I can now understand that it's time to reshape myself into a deeper, less activity-defined person. It's time to speak from the voice of my soul, perhaps, and not the voice of the many experiences I've gone through or identify with. It's time to be shaped from the inside out and not the outside in.

I am somewhat ashamed to admit all this and yet I'm amazingly honored at what an unusual and enlightening experience I've gone through in my time of unemployment. While on our last 10-day trip to our hometown I experienced several unique situations when, looking back, I obviously can see how little I am defined as a woman and how frantically I reacted to the activities and conversations of others, how much I feared the influence of the environment and how little of myself I shared with others. (I realize as I write this that my strong emotional reaction meant I was attempting to cling to my fragile identity in those situations and that can be seen as a sign of a somewhat defined and strong woman; however, if I was defined and confident on a deeper level I wouldn't have been so fearful or threatened by the situations I found myself in.)

Note: for those of you who know me, or think you know me, this entry could be somewhat offensive. For example, "I thought Rhonda and I really connected! Now she's admitting that she's just been mimicking who I am?" For that, I apologize sincerely, because it does challenge the nature of our relationships; I'd love if, at some point in the future, each of you would give me a second chance to genuinely share myself with you, once I'm to that point.