My beautiful wife has decided that she shall single-handedly breathe life into corpse of blog memes from the early 2000’s and guide it’s zombified corpse back to the interwebs. Such are the results of allowing her to get bored and as such (and because she tagged me in the meme) I am obligated to play along and write this post.
Who am I? It’s one of those questions that causes the kind of deep introspection that can have both positive and negative emotional effects and is a question that I truthfully avoid most of the time.
I gave up trying to define who I am when I moved to America to be with Sara. It’s fair to say that I used to put an extraordinary value on a self-identity that I had wanted to be, had never achieved, and probably wouldn’t have enjoyed if I had. I’m already an arrogant enough prick at the best of times without compounding it with other qualifiers such as those of someone who wished to appear better than he was… even if I was already doing pretty well for myself.
That however is a thing of the past. Somewhere between my divorce, and moving from Denmark and back to Ireland in preparation for my move here, I hit close enough to rock bottom and something changed. I didn’t realize it changed and it took most of the next two years for it to sink in, but I believe I’ve mostly managed to let go of the whole idea of “who am I?” and being to live in the realm of “what needs to be done and what makes me happy”.
That’s not an easy realm to live in I might add. It’s easier to have an idea about what makes you happy than it is to be happy. Fortunately for me, I have a wonderful and supportive wife in Sara, and she ensures that I at least try to find time for the things that make me happy. That in itself is a conundrum because more often than not all I want to do is hang out with Sara when my work is done. There are benefits to your wife also being your best friend.
So I guess, in a very round-about way that means that I am what makes me happy, or at least am defined by my desire to be happy.
So what does make me happy?
Needless to say my long-suffering wife makes me happy, even when she’s mad at me for stuff I did in her dreams and would never do in real life. I draw an almost perverse amount of pleasure from making my wife happy. I guess if she’s happy I’m happy.
The kids make me happy. I love spending time with them and hate it when they have to return back to their “real dad”. I really wish I had more time when they are here and wasn’t always spending a portion of my day rushing through work so I could then run off to play with them. Less work more play, that’s the way to go.
Speaking of work, well, that’s a kicker right there isn’t it? I can’t think of anything in my life that I hate, loath, frustrates me, love, and gives me enormous feeling of accomplishment and personal achievement. Working for myself, doing what I do (40% content curation, 60% development), is the ultimate love hate relationship, but when push comes to shove I’d have to admit that I love it so much I wouldn’t willingly give it up, not unless I had to. That’s even true of days where after a hard week, and long day, I’m frustrated, annoyed and angry at it, and it still decides to throw more problems at me at 9:30 at night when I finally think I can have some free time.
In an odd way, being me is who I am. I know that sounds like an obvious statement but it’s not true of so many people who spend their entire lives trying to be someone else. I was like that once.
I am the cumulative effect of a life spent travelling, moving, learning, fucking up, making an ass of myself, fucking up some more and taking risks. These things have not always turned out positively, but they have made and shaped me.
Let me try to explain – I am me. I dress how I like (not what fashion dictates), I listen to what I want to listen to (Mendelssohn or Foo Fighters – doesn’t matter), read what I want to read (avidly), sing when I want to sing (much to Sara’s annoyance), say what I think (which again, is not always a good thing in other peoples eyes) and generally do my own thing.
I take pride in being opinionated and perhaps more importantly being open to having my opinions challenged, because all to often I am wrong. I self-educate (and manage to make it sound dirty) because without that I don’t believe I have much of a right to a soapbox when I open my yap to spew forth my often asinine babblings.
When I do rant, I try to keep it brief (you know, less than say 4 hours) and not be around women as Sara believes that the sound of my accent is enough to have women drop their panties in a manner that would have made Tom Jones feel inadequate in his hay day. Personally I’ve never experienced the phenomenon, but Sara is the certain it will occur. To be truthful the best thing I’ve ever had a woman throw at me was Snickers bar, but I believe that was done with the intent to wound.
You know who are truly awesome in my life? My friends. I don’t tell them this enough but I really value our friends and the friendships we share. I have a habit of surrounding myself with really intelligent people. People who are smarter than me but also share a decidedly sarcastic and, well, “wrong” sense of humor. As such those friendships define me, as their expectations of me have a knock-on effect on my actions and choices and I don’t want to let them down.
Finally I have my business goals which have an influence in the sense that they make me happy when I reach them and stress me out when I don’t, but they do not define me. I’m learning that I am not what I do.
So, to sum up – Who am I? I have no real idea and frankly I don’t care.
I march to the sound of my own drum which often skips a beat. I’ve got no idea where I’m marching too, but I’m cool with that because the journey is more important than the destination, and as long as I’ve got my wife, family and friends, I’m happy.
(As this is a meme I am required to tag other people to play along. Steven (but he won’t play) and Daniel. As a side-note, this post has thought me that I’ve completely lost touch with people who do personal blogs and need to get back to that.)