The mind, at times, can be the strangest thing, can’t it? One minute that grey matter in our our own little space is perfectly hunky-dory. But in an instant, it can all change. At least in my case it does. I can’t write about you because I don’t know what goes on in your noggin. So what I will do is offer you me and you can draw your own comparisons.
Every once in a while I find myself asking myself “who am I?” Typically that will come from one of two situations or circumstances I just experienced–when I have a nasty temper tantrum (that’s never a pretty thing), or when I have done something profoundly kind and loving, the kind of act that just pours out of me spontaneously without any forethought.
Talk about two extremes! Yes, I’m pretty much a middle of the road kind of guy temperament-wise. Thus, I am inclined to be quite aware of extremes. When the “who am I?” thought pops up it’s as if I were also saying “where did that come from?”. Deep down I know exactly where each comes from which is the exact reason that my “Who am I?” question comes into play.
You see, I know that when I get revved up and succumb to the need to express myself inappropriately (my old man ugly temper tantrum), it comes because I have yielded to (yep, same as chosen to) allow Satan to guide me in response to a situation that often carries no valid reason for me to get my shorts all twisted up. Often that situation is one in which I carry somewhat, if not all, the burden of being wrong in some manner. Because of the fact that I am sometimes not mature enough to think that I don’t always have to be right, or that I can agree to disagree appropriately, I make the all but instinctive choice to act out, and the tantrum occurs.
On the flip side, I know that my heart has been graciously softened in recent years through the power of the Holy Spirit who is in me since I was saved. Because of that it is not all that uncommon for a completely spontaneous act of kindness or love, whether spoken or through an action, to take place, and I find myself standing outside of myself thinking “wow, is that really me?”, or “where did that come from?”. I find that the choices to act in that way are most often as instinctive as those times that I end up having one of the tantrums.
In the more reflective moments, typically when I am at ground zero and holding space for myself and what is going on inside of my heart and mind, I find myself asking “who am I?”, or “which person am I?”. My answer seldom varies from the simple answer, “both.”.