Who we are, not what we do

I’ve recently become painfully aware of the labels that define me. And I don’t have anyone else to blame but myself. One of the curious results of the sound bite, Internet culture is identifying yourself with a paucity of terms. Whenever you create a “profile” whether it is on Twitter or Facebook, you must describe yourself in as few words as possible. Many times they request a series of single adjectives or nouns to say what or who you are. Now this can be a positive as it forces you to narrow the scope of your own perception. This is the extent of the introspection that some of us achieve. It can be painful as we see our life reduced to two or three terms that even we struggle to elucidate. It is difficult to honestly asses ourselves especially when the purpose of the assessment is to identify us to others. I have yet to see terms like argumentative, withdrawn, or hard to get to know in someone’s profile. We also tend to exaggerate. I know one young lady who listed herself as regional sales manager for a multinational corporation only to find out she sold Tupperware from her home. Technically she was correct, but I would argue that maybe there was a bit of hyperbole in her resume. But we are all guilty of this, and understandably when our online persona is largely protected by firewalls, relative anonymity, and our own creative license. It’s not only the online dating services that experience character inflation. But getting back to my original thought, I was forced to consolidate my persona on a website recently and it gave me pause. How do I define who I am and how accurate is that? Am I being honest with myself and with others? For example, one of the characteristics or labels I attached to myself was that of marathoner. Now I don’t question my right in using that term, I have completed 23 marathons, but what does that mean and how does that define who I am. I guess this came to a head when I was no longer able to run long distances for a while as I was dealing with a minor medical problem . I realized I had invested a great deal of my identity in being a runner. I found that many others I know had also, as many of the conversations I would have with friends and colleagues would begin with, “Have you got any races coming up?” People identified me as a runner, so it was not just my perception; however, what would I be if I was no longer able to run. I suggest that I would become a raving lunatic because running is a major source of stress relief for me, but nevertheless, I realize that the simple act of putting one foot in front of another shouldn’t define who I am. That was to tenable, to transient, to fragile to be so important. Running is something I do, not something I am; for that distinction is to vital to be laid at the feet of any one activity. Tomorrow I could be hit by a beer truck and no longer be able to pound the pavement, and then who would I be? If not a runner, what? So it became clear to me that no one activity should serve as a defining characteristic of my life. This applies to vocations also. Yes, I describe myself as a physician, but again, it is what I do, not who I am. In this world of “So what do you do” as the initiator of many new conversations, we are more and more pigeonholed into our profession. I believe that is why so many find retirement disastrous. If you see your profession as a singularity in your being, then in retirement you not only lose your profession, but also your identity. There are some things I placed on my bio that do have permanence. I am a father, a husband, an author. Those things will not change, even if my kids disown me (which they have threatened to do) I will still be their father, and that is a role that can’t be underplayed. This label does not say whether I am a good or bad father, that assessment is unclear, but it better defines who I am as a person infinitely better than “marathoner”. Likewise I will always be able to claim the title “author” having had three books published. Even though they are out of print and you would probably have to go into the basement of Amazon.com to find them, they are still there and able to be read. Granted I still cringe a bit when I or someone else refers to me as an author as I still maintain Hemingway and Poe are authors while I am a part time writer, yet the fact remains I do have some books out there. I guess my point is that there are some things that we think define who we are, but in actuality are just descriptions of what we do. My prayer is that I am able to distinguish the difference as circumstances and activities change, but hopefully character doesn’t.