It’s hard to admit that we can be two different people all of the time. We can eat meat and worship our pets. We can love our relatives who don’t deserve it and hate unknown people who don’t. We can live a happy life during the day and at night dream of one that is so very different. We are dichotomous.
We can be both introverted and extroverted. We can be both satisfied and sad. We can be all things and simultaneously be all opposing forces. We are complicated beings. It is the joy and pain of being human.
It seems we can muddle along with this bifurcated existence just fine until we are determined to define ourselves. For some reason we feel we must have a single definition. A single answer as to who we are. But this is crazy! A multitude of feelings and attitudes reduced to a single definition leaves too much out. It downplays the awesomeness we have to offer the world. It keeps us boxed in, restrained and inaccessible. And yet we continue to define ourselves simply because we enjoy putting things in boxes. We feel better when we can understand something and predict it. We complain about the weather because it defies us. It remains an unpredictable force. It is uncontrollable. Just as our dichotomous selves are.
I have read that we should define ourselves by what gives us pleasure instead of what we do for cash. Or that we should define ourselves by our relationships with others and not by our fleeting fancy. Really though, we should just refuse to define ourselves. We are. And that should be enough.