Saturday, January 14, 2012
You know, the thing you do (or are) which most defines you.
The prism through which all your other experiences are refracted and from which they draw their colour. Magically.
If you had to say, "I'm a . . . . ", how would you fill in the blank?
Is the fact that you are a mother, or a father, the central focus of your life? Or maybe that you're a grandparent?
Or is it that you are a partner to another individual: a husband, a wife -- married or common law, same sex or otherwise?
A companion to (probably not an "owner of") a beloved pet?
Is it your occupation that matters most, not just for making money but because it's who you are and a source of huge satisfaction: whether butcher, baker, candlestick maker? Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief?
Is it your ethnic identity?
Or maybe your primary physical activity? You're a runner? You practice yoga? You're a kayaker? Or a biker? A golfer? A skier? A gym rat?
Is it all about self-expression? You write? You're a musician? (Does it matter what instrument?) Or a visual artist? ( Painter, sculptor, some other kind?) Or a dancer? (Ballroom, jazz, zumba, contra?)
You're a homemaker? You cook? You sew? You're a gardener?
You travel? You volunteer? You're a friend?
What I mean by all this is: when you're trying to figure something out . . . some knotty life problem . . . what image comes to mind? And is that image drawn from your "central life metaphor".
"OK, this is just like casting off stitches to shape the heel of a sock: I've gotta . . . ".
Or "All right, time for some pruning: let's sharpen the secateurs and watch out for the thorns . . . ".
Or "Some better organization will help me figure this out, like purging my closet. I'll just pitch out everything I haven't "worn" for a year and . . . ".
Or "Yeah, I'm in a tough spot but it's not like I don't know how to deal with that. I just need to adjust my grip, left hand over the top a bit more, and I can hit a curve shot from behind the tree here, keep it low, just pitch it up short of the green and . . . . ".
Maybe you don't think that way at all. Maybe you don't have a central life metaphor.
I do. I know DH does. I know at least one of my kids does. But maybe lots of people don't.
If you do have a central life metaphor, has it changed over time, or stayed consistent?
Do you think you can have more than one life metaphor at the same time? And do you?
I was thinking about all of this as I zoomed around the golf course on my cross country skis this morning . . . alone today, because DH at the office. And the other friend I'd invited wasn't available either. And: I liked it.
Yeah. Cross country skiing is become quite a life metaphor for me!! I'll probably blog about that another time.
But right now I'm wondering: what about you?