Thats Me

It’s a game we sometimes play in the classroom. Someone will say “I like basketball,” and if that applies to others, they’ll spring forward into the circle, saying “That’s me!”

Or perhaps we see a meme or a photo that we can relate to and we think, “Oh, that’s so me.”

I know my interests and my disinterests. I know my favorite movies and TV shows. I know what routes I like to take, physically and metaphysically.

But sometimes I wish I knew “me” better. The “me” behind all of that other stuff. The me that’s watching and observing me combat life and all of it’s joy and pain. Who is that person? 

People talk about “finding themselves” as if “themself” is some distant character, lost out there in the darkness. 

I get it. I don’t know “me” as well as I should. But maybe it’s less about finding, and more about noticing what’s already there, right in front of my face.