Are You for Real?

Who are you?  Who am I?  Who are we?  And are we for real?  We can become so concerned with doing that we often forget who we really are.

That introduction takes my brain straight to singing the lyrics from The Who’s “Who are you?” song:

Who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
I really wanna know (who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
Tell me, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
'Cause I really wanna know (who are you? Who, who, who, who?)

These lyrics leave me both strangely comforted and perplexed. Comforted, because someone wrote a song about this universal question, reminding me I’m not alone in wondering who I am and who you are. Yet perplexed, because I feel I should know—and I wonder why finding the real me feels so hard.

In the 1950s in Thailand, a huge clay statue of the Buddha began to crack due to heat and weather conditions.  Upon investigation it was discovered by looking through the cracks of the clay, that underneath was a solid gold Buddha.  Hundreds of years earlier, during a war, the monks had covered the Buddha in clay to protect it from pillaging by invaders.  Over time many other layers of clay were added over the original clay but no one knew what was underneath the clay. As the investigators began removing the layers and layers of clay, they unveiled a radiant and beautiful solid gold Buddha.  

We do the same thing those monks did by covering up our true self with our behaviors and personality.  From an early age we are learning which behaviors and strategies work to protect ourselves from the challenges, dangers, vulnerabilities, and unhappiness in the world.  As we grow up we add layer upon layer to self for more and more protection, continually covering up who we really are.  

I am reminded of another story told by Parker Palmer about a toddler who, upon welcoming a new baby to the family, requested to spend a few minutes alone with her new baby brother.  The parents agreed and left her in the baby’s room but quickly ran to listen in on the baby monitor.  They heard the 3 year old ask the newborn, “Tell me what God looks like, I’ve almost forgotten.”

This story is both beautiful and sad.  It makes me long for the innocence and purity of a child remembering God’s face and it makes me sad for the ways I’ve covered up who I am to cope with an unpredictable world.  We are all on the same journey to uncover our true self and to remember that we are made in the image of God - beautiful, whole, and golden. 

The wisdom of the Enneagram is one portal to finding our true self.  There’s a lot of freedom that comes when we identify habitual behaviors that we no longer need, learn to let them go, and then open up to new ways of living and being.  Suzanne Stabile says, we have to learn who we are not so we can discover who we are. This path toward wholeness is not a quick trip but a lifelong journey to uncover, let go, and discover who we are, for real. 

If this reflection resonates with you, let’s connect. I’d love to support you on your journey toward wholeness and self-discovery.

References:

Brach, T. (2021). Trusting the gold: Uncovering your natural goodness. Sounds True.
(Original citation reference: pp. 2–3, 5)

Taylor, G. A. (n.d.). What God looks like. The Sophia Society. https://www.sophiasociety.org/blog/what-god-looks-like

Townsend, P. (1978). Who are you? [Song]. On Who are you. The Who.