metamorphosis

Last night, after dinner, after company left and I was lying down on the couch, with my head tipsy from red wine and my mind reeling from THC, I had a weird thought.

For some reason, I thought about how long I'd been in my body, as "me". And then, after reminding myself that it's been 31 years, I wondered why I have never been anyone else.

And that's the weird thought.

Why have I never been anyone else? No matter who I tried to be or aspired to be in my life, I have always been me. No surprise, I guess-- it wasn't an epiphany or a revelation...

I thought of it as a weird thought because there is a built-in presupposition that I can be anyone else. I haven't tried to be anyone else since I was 16, when I wanted to be a disciple of the Jim Morrison & The Doors cult. And, of course, I failed miserably, but that's a good thing, because the world didn't need another Jim Morrison.

The thought, as it crossed my mind, also assumes that I have a choice in who I want to be, like I could deny my own nature and self and become something that I am not at will.

People reinvent themselves all the time, but do they really change their identities, or do they merely transmutate their core egos?

When I was 16, I was reinventing myself. I think I've reinvented myself in various ways over the years, but not radically.

Am I reinventing myself now? Or is there a part of my psyche that is expecting reinvention to come along?