A SIMPLE SENSE OF “SELF”

I wonder if there really is such a thing as “self”? If you look in the dictionary they give you a basic philosophical or psychological explanation of what “self” is and if you look a little harder there’s probably close to a hundred words we all use daily without a thought that have “self” in it as well.
There’s words and phrases like “self-aware”, “self determined”, “self-confident”, “self-absorbed”, “self-depreciating”, “himself”, “herself”, “self-destruct” and such yet none of them give a defining sense of self to anyone…even yourself. Why is that I wonder?
They may define a brief moment in time but generally only about a given action by a person but not the person itself.
The older we get there seems to become a quickening urge to “find oneself” for some unknown reason. We examine and re-examine everything about ourselves and the issues we think (or thought) were (or are) important to us at this stage of life while we cautiously move forward. The “Damn the torpedo’s” bravado we once had was quietly replaced when we weren’t looking by an unfamiliar hesitancy much like trying to walk on eggs while learning to chew gum at the same time in the dark.
At times we find ourselves muttering to no one but the reflection in the mirror some version of “I used to know myself…now I’m not so sure.” as the first seeds of “self-doubt” begin to take root. It’s quite certain that other “self’s” are not far behind like a deeper version of “self-reflection” with possibly a little “self-loathing” to spice up the gumbo with, but isn’t it amazing how distant and at “arms length” those “self’s” seem? We don’t act like we own them, we’re just using them as a research tool to, hopefully, be discarded when their usefulness is no longer needed and replaced by something else like a GPS upgrade. I personally am all for this. I’ve already grown tired of Helga the Dominatrix who screams things like “Turn left at puberty NOW you IDIOT!”.
Billy Crystal (or maybe it was Robin Williams…I dunno, I’m so confused these days) once said GPS systems should grow old with us and I think I now understand the thought but it seems to have not quite happened yet. If it had Helga would sound more like my long departed Grandmother or get a sex change and sound like my Uncle Dean (come to think of it…they both did sound somewhat alike to begin with) and it would be more like “Turn left up here at puberty…Woops, missed that turn son but it’s OK we’ll re-compute and catch back up with it in your early twenties. Believe me, guys don’t change all that much during those years anyways so you won’t miss a thing.”
Even with GPS I’m probably no closer to understanding myself right this minute that I was an hour ago, a day or week ago or even a year ago but I keep looking. Like an old Robert Frost poem I have had glimpses of what lies ahead but haven’t gotten there yet.
The only thing I know for certain is I wish I could still play baseball. With all of the curveballs that have been thrown at me the past few years I must be able to hit just about anything these days and have a ridiculously high batting average…even if I still don’t know myself or the “self” hidden inside me.

The Road Not Taken


TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20


Robert Frost
I have few regrets but many sorrows…how about you?