What I Do Is Not Who I Am

People often ask me what I do. I find the question difficult to answer in a traditional language of institutional degrees, training certificates, and professional labels. My answers may frustrate some. How does one respond when one has long left the allegiance to the social mind standards behind.

This is not to say that these concerns have no value. I simply have other interests. For many of us, answering this question in labels does not reveal the passion at the heart of our work. It does not include the personal journey within the labels that speaks about “who” we actually bring to work and what illuminates the label.

As soon as we say, “I am a _____”, we become absorbed in the solidification urge that tries so desperately to create some ground under our feet. And the fluidity that preceded the answer to the question begins to evaporate.

It is always an adventure when we stand across from another human being. The energetic dance is fascinating and the result of our experience is dependent on whether or not we solidify or remain fluid.


In a past posting (February 22: Solidifying or Dissolving “I”) I shared my thoughts about the energetic resonance of an experience as it interacts with something or someone. As it connects with our energetic field, it either coalesces through our system fully and completely, or it becomes trapped by our mind in the form of judgments, opinions, justifications, and projections. If it travels all the way through, a natural fluidity results. If it becomes trapped by the mind, it solidifies into a limited identity. We suddenly become “somebody”, either good or bad. And we react through the eyes of that identity. Now, our main agenda becomes the formation of defensive, adaptive behaviors. The primary interest is the promotion of “I, Me, and Mine”. We literally live that moment out of touch with reality and roam around in a dead landscape

But all is not lost. At any point we can bring voluntary attention into the mix, like a new ingredient into a cake recipe, that changes the flavor and consistency. We can question and observe the result of the solid identity usurping our life. That awareness releases its solid energy. Our natural fluidity returns and the heart softens into its open, receptive fullness. We have become a co-creative partner with life again.

So, can we deliberately use language to assist this dissolving process? How can we describe ourselves in a way that produces more fluidity, less ground under our feet? I now prefer to use descriptions that allow a lot of room in the mind, that speak to the mystery of our amazing human capacity. I like questions rather than answers. They open the windows and doors and invite more air into my room.