March 7 | For Today

There’s a hundred different ways to slice a sense of identity out of the thousands of impulses, thoughts, and feelings that make up our internal worlds. 

Some of them are self serving: calling yourself an artist, an athlete, a writer, a savant. Each may be true, at different times and in different ways, even when you don’t feel them.

Some of them are negative: calling yourself a fuckup, an addict, an unorganized worked or disconnected friend. Words that, regardless of their truth, make an awfully convenient 2×4 to beat yourself up with.

The double edged sword is that we almost always find ourselves hating the people who hold their own identity in absolute regard while also staying deeply insecure of our own—rolling our eyes at the friend whose latest two week hobby is their entire personality while doubting our decades of pursuit on literally any basis. 

Maybe it’s that indifference that holds the key. The ability to be thousands of things in rapid succession with no real consequence for the illogicalness of it all. Or maybe you could look at this way: you are a reader. You’re a reader because, today, you got up and read this.Are you a writer? Well, that’s your decision: sit down and write today and the title is yours. Pick up the guitar—even for 5 minutes—and you can identify with the instrument as legitimately as any of the rock gods. 

After all—if you’re so aware of how meaningless those phrases of internal identity can be, why not just identify with the act itself? 

What will you be for today?… Read the rest