Dear readers,
It’s not a question from the book of questions I shared in the post, Is This Just a Station on Your Soul’s Journey? However, I was asked this question during some leadership training through my work at Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos conducted by Perennial. I had a week to think about my answer, but it’s funny how a question containing just three words, so simple on the face of it, leaves us trembling in an existential crisis and choking on our thoughts. The irony is that millions of us around the world paint our lives on social media to show off our lifestyle, what we are doing and our experiences to demonstrate who we are, but we very rarely ask ourselves these questions to dig out who we truly are and get to know ourselves better.
As mentioned in an earlier post, I have been asking myself questions like these over the past few months, which has helped me understand where I stand on a whole number of topics, but this one stumped me: Who am I? Nicholas Rogers aka Ajmaqventurer, I am male, 44 years old, a Scorpio, from Birmingham, a journalist, a writer, an artist, I live in Tegucigalpa, divorced, I know my family and friends (although I try to trim the list down year after year), Dave Chappelle on a bad day cheers me up. This is who I am, kind of, but they are only surface-type elements that describe me, which doesn’t really show my essence; who I am on a deeper level. This is more than just a check-in or personal weather report; this is finding out who I am for myself. But then I realised, “Shite, do I really know myself? And is it true that maybe other people know me better than I know myself?” It is a wonderful shadow question, to build a steady foundation beneath our feet and understand ourselves, rather than numbly show off to the world how we want to be perceived. For myself, I feel I’ve ignored who I am for far too long. And maybe it is true: friends and family have a better grasp of who I am, as I do of others through examining and judging them. Don’t judge me for judging others. The Bible tells us not to do it, but we all fall for the trap. It’s a human flaw we all have. But saying that, by judging someone doesn’t necessarily mean we know who they are. It is more the behaviour or character traits we admire or dislike, which can tell us a lot, but not really windows to the soul.
Maybe I’m scared to answer it on some level. Maybe I won’t like who I am or I will just find a void. Then I realised, “Nah, I think I’m quite a decent chap. There’s enough within me to explore.” Then I went on a wild bender of booze and psychedelic introspection: joke! No, I sat down with my journal and tried to answer, but weirdly, I hit a form of writer’s block, because this seemingly simple question was so full of baggage and weight. Yes, some readers might feel I am second-guessing myself, overthinking this riddle completely, and they know themselves oh so well. (Well, f–k you, then!). Pen in hand, journal before me, and nada. “Where do I start?” Nothing came. So I thought, being that this is leadership training, I can begin by asking this question from the perspective of myself as a leader. So I began:
“I never planned on being a leader in my professional field. I enjoyed working in a team, but I also enjoyed working independently doing my own thing. Through teaching, I learned various leadership abilities, such as how to motivate and lead students to succeed and learn, seeing them improve, and I found I enjoyed it. I then became Communications Manager and then Director of Communications, where I have learned to lead at executive and middle management level, learning through courses, reading, advice from friends and colleagues, podcasts, and trial and error. I always do my best for NPH, the health of the organisation and my colleagues, making difficult decisions using the skills and experiences to direct, create opportunities, bring people together and overcome challenges. I have enjoyed it more than I expected, more so that I am an introvert, and I have been forced to come out of my comfort zone on many occasions. I have harnessed interpersonal skills and learned to relate and find triggers to motivate people to work to one common goal. This is through trial and error, as mentioned before. I enjoy it, but it is tiring. People aren’t robots. You can’t rewire them or edit them using coding. You have to guide and support, but also know when to give them space and not micromanage, and also look after my own mental health to engage in activities outside the working environment, such as writing on my blog, Ajmaqventurer.”
This was great. Therapeutic. But still, I was only skimming the edges without delving into who I am. I’m a leader at NPH. Does this define me? What about the rest of me? I’m more than my job.
As part of the training, I was paired in a virtual breakout room with a good friend and colleague of mine, Daniel Zapata, who works for NPH Mexico. I started by mumbling something about how difficult it was to answer this question, and repeated a little of what I said above as a leader. Daniel then came out with something that, I will paraphrase below, was reminiscent of The Verve’s Bittersweet Symphony, but enveloped in something I found profound:
“I am mortal. I live and die. In between, we have to take advantage of the moments of happiness we have. It’s impossible to be happy all the time. We know that. We make connections. It is what life is about: making connections. With friends and family, with our children and lovers, with children in NPH and our colleagues and donors, all over the world. Connecting with people. It’s part of life, and I like connecting people. It’s what I do.”
I told Daniel I’d plagiarise him and use his words as my own, which made him chuckle. We then returned to the wider group and we were asked, “What do you do?”
Again, I went into detail about leadership and trying to guide others, but then Daniel found another way to again hit the nail on the head.
“We tell stories, Nick. We do it in our professional and personal lives. We tell stories of the children to donors, because they inspire, they make people feel good. Not just to donate, but to give moments of happiness, of achievement after experiencing something so complex. We do the same with our friends and family. We tell stories. I like to tell them. I like people to feel joy. I am a storyteller.”
It was 2-0 to Daniel in the answer stakes, not that it’s a competition, nor anyone was counting (other than me).
Again we returned to the main group, and were then asked why we do what we do. Our answers were similar; we are good at what we do. “We are told we should be humble, but if you know we are good at something, we should just say it. I don’t believe in being humble all the time. Humbleness is a nice quality, but it is okay to say or announce you are proud or happy about something,” Daniel said. We agreed we do this job for the human element, for the kids, to create a better environment. I also said that if I’d worked for a bank in communications, I probably would have shot myself by now, working to make money to oil the corporate cogs to make more money for people who already have a lot of it: not very inspiring to me. I’m not saying it’s wrong or judging to do such work for a bank or the corporate world. It’s just not for me. Each to their own. I do this for a greater vocation. I feel I have to. I was brought up that way, therefore, wired that way.
I am coming to the end. I don’t think I’ve fully answered the question regarding who I am, but I guess it’s a continual journey of self-discovery. Our answers can change dramatically based on our mood and what’s going on in our lives at that moment. We change and evolve based on life lessons and experience. I don’t recognise myself from 2014. My values are different. I’m a different soul, I feel, even though old friends think I’m still the same. Yes, I like to goof around at times, but my values are different. Who I am today could be very different from tomorrow. That’s not a way to escape answering the question. Today, I consider myself a good-natured person. Tomorrow, I might be an arse. Some might say I’m always an arse, day after day. You may read the question differently, which is fine. We should all try to answer this once in a while: an effort to understand ourselves better.
Be brave. Answer the question in the comments below. If not, try it in your journal and see what comes out.
Thanks to Perennial for the question and to Daniel Zapata for your answer.
A quotation for you, Nick, perhaps a bit of a cliched quote for people who know Spanish poetry, but pertinent all the same.
“Caminante, no hay camino. Se hace camino al andar” – Antonio Machado (also put to music by Joan Manuel Serrat).
Approaching 62, I can say that the trick remains to get the good-natured person / arse balance on the right side.
Thanks, John. I was actually unaware of the quote. But I like it.