What I was, I am not now.
What I am, I will not long be.
There are a thousand,
Thousand 'I's I've
Come to know as 'me.'
'I' was a baby, a child, a teen—
Eyes opened, a world;
Eyes closed, a dream.
'I' was fat, and
then fit,
even gaunt—
Eating,
sweating,
Wanting not
to want.
'I' was a
builder, a painter, a sage—
Channeling
mud, glue, The truth of my age.
'I' was a server, a follower, a fool—
Taking on others' wills,
Busy-work, rules.
'I' was normal, and basic, a place—
Buying clothes, begging jobs,
Taking up space.
'I' was important, and special, meant for—
My family, my circles,
My loves made me more.
Still, what I was,
I am not now.
And what I am,
I will no further
be.
There are a thousand,
Thousand 'I's I'll
Come to
know
as
'me.'
"Jonathan and Krissy left for Hawaii this morning, so I had to go to the gym by myself—for the first time in a long time—with the knowledge that, for the next two weeks, my workout quality would be determined by my own mind. So I was worried … for a bit; I remembered what I was like in my twenties, pushing too long, and not hard enough, obsessively and distractedly. But then I got to the gym, and realized that I'm so far from that old Josh: I nod to those I know in the gym, so I'm not there alone; I squeeze my muscles with focus and intention, so that they warm up and sharpen my mind; I catch my thoughts drifting and come back to the mantra of my moving sets, so I feel more alive when I leave than when I came in from the cold. I am new.
ReplyDeleteAs I was biking through the soccer-stadium parking lot toward the gym, these first two lines started flowing. And I Thought of the 3-foot, 4-foot, 5-foot versions of me in the past—how funny it is that I consider them 'me,' when I'm physically, emotionally, mentally beyond them now. Maybe I'm thinking this because of what Chomsky said in “Is the Man Who is Tall Happy?” about how we classify things as same, and the strange boundaries where that changes. Maybe it's because I was reading an article in THE WEEK about using aborted fetal cells in research, and how one medical professor claimed that the practice was “basically taking the life of one member of human society to use for the life of another” (30 Oct. 2015), which made me think, “No! A little kidney-bean on a umbilical string is not a member of human society; its mom is. But it's not even a 'person' yet, in the sense of having individual agency, self-awareness, or even a perceivable human nature. Or maybe it's because I feel like that amazingly cute blonde at the gym is just too young for me to ask out, while that 43-year old free-spirit on OKCupid is too old to write to. We're all so dynamic and changing, that 'I' becomes sort of a funny concept: just sort of a place-holder to note where my senses are currently absorbing and pooling their stimuli; a collection so similar to yours, or anyone else's, that the difference is barely worth noting. We are, right now, and the rest is a story."
– 16 November 2015
To me, I feel like this poem points out what most have not considered before, but upon reading they are like “Yeah.” People are not their past selves, but their past selves are a part of their present. My present me is someone I will no longer be in the future, as my present self is my future’s past. Through all of these moments I have lived, am living, and will live, I am always changing and adopting new “I’s” that I categorize as the “me” of that instance. Those various “I’s” that I have been also come with labels, which I think are used for convenience and organization rather than accuracy as someone is more that “a / builder, an artist, a sage” (Kuntzman 16-17). However, I think these labels are still relevant to who you were at that point and necessary in order to avoid chaos in your mind when trying to digest different stages of your life. There were times where I was simultaneously a volleyball player, a student, and a pianist. There were other times where I was just one of those things, but I think I am also a daughter, a friend, a sister all the time.
ReplyDeleteMy parents are in their 70's now - it's wild to think that someday, I will no longer be a son: even those permanent-feeling identities can go in an instant.
DeleteThe main reason why this piece feels so real to me is partially because I think about this subject matter every single day. The struggle for identity is so intensely real and to think that I am almost 19 and still have not found that yet is terrifying yet also fun in the sense that I get to adventure and find the many, many identities that will one day make up the way people think of me. I loved how you talk about identities in the past, present, and future because it shows how identity is such a fluid thing even when it feels so permanent and concrete in your mind. I remember thinking about always being a great grandson to my great grandmother and now that I am not (unfortunately) it feels like that identity has gone missing. I feel like I am constantly losing and gaining identities and some even come back after a while. That’s what makes this poem so interesting to read is that it brings about feelings that I deal with almost every day, especially at this age.
ReplyDeleteOne thing I also wanted to point out (which could be totally off mark but I want to say it anyways) is that the poem is almost in the shape of a pregnant mother (like with the baby bump in the middle). I feel like if this was the case (I’m going to pretend it is the case) then that adds so much depth to what the poem says in the sense that it almost comments on the fact that when we are born the only identity given to us is that of our parents. Which also brings up the question of: how much of our identity do we actually create? SO fun to have a poem make me ponder things I normally wouldn’t touch on unless I was writing my own poetry. Hopefully I will be able to have more of those ‘I’s in the future.
Fret not - you'll continue shaping and reshaping your identity for many years to come :) I'm 35, and still figuring out the layers of who I am, and adding new relationships and new experiences into that ongoing braid. It doesn't ever stop changing and growing.
DeleteRegarding "how much of our identity do we actually create?" My two cents is that your scars and your genetic predispositions are soil packed around your identity: you have to build your identity OUT OF those ingredients, but you are still the one who "creates" the whole thing, who decides "What am I going to do with this?" Am I a victim? Am I an advocate? Am I a performer in a spotlight? Am I an engineer constructing that stage? You choose the answer. And you can always change the answer. Your identity is your own internal decision, reinforced by all the actions that follow from that choice.
I feel really connected to this poem. My identity is something that I am constantly trying to figure out because although I have my interests and dislikes, I still do not fully know who I am. I found the part about being a thousand I’s in a lifetime interesting to think about because as people we are always changing and the I’s that each of us will be in the future are unknown to us in the present day. Part of discovering my identity is being okay with not knowing everything and letting the experiences I have had and have yet to have shape me into who I am. It is also very relevant to my life right now because college is on the horizon. Every time I have a conversation with someone, especially an adult, I am asked what I want to do when I am older. I normally answer with the generic “I am still trying to figure that out” response because I honestly have no clue what I want to do. Although I did apply to schools with a set major in mind, I am a pretty indecisive person and the major I applied for might not end up being the major that I get a degree in by the time I graduate. I think that society puts a lot of pressure on people to go to what is perceived to be the best school or the best career path, and that is a lot for someone who is only a teenager to think about. When I was little, I wanted to be a fireman when I grew up and then a few years later I wanted to be a chef. After I decided that I did not want to be a chef anymore, I never really thought about what I want to be when I am older until I got to high school and people started talking about college. I have felt pressure to apply to certain schools or consider certain fields of study, which is stressful when I am trying to figure out who I am on my own and not feeling like I am supposed to follow exactly in someone else’s path. I am not who I was when I was in elementary school or middle school, and I am definitely not who I will be in another four years. I think that I will continue to think I have fully realized who I am and then all of the sudden I will be a different version of me.
ReplyDeleteWhen you're young, everything feels permanent. Trust me, I’m a teenager. It took me a while to realize that every little problem I faced wasn’t the end of the world. Once I reflected back on my past selves, however, I came to understand that my “life-changing” problems were relatively insignificant because my life itself is always changing. It was hard for me to see this at first because these changes are so subtle that only their final accumulation can be seen. It’s sort of like the shape of the poem: always swaying from left to right but delicately, such that you can only notice it when you look at the whole piece. It’s not a perfect or precise transformation—there’s gaps here and there—but it doesn’t have to be. Sometimes this can be scary, but, for me, the predominant feeling this evokes is comfort. It’s nice to know that I am always evolving into a new identity. I’m not bound to any single event in my life but rather I am an accumulation of choices and feelings. Every experience I have and every person I meet influences my behavior and alters my world view, even if it’s miniscule, and it makes me feel like I’m always learning something new, whether it be about myself or about the world around me. And there’s so much to learn! How can I be anything but excited for my future selves?
ReplyDeleteThis poem struck me in its exploration of the many identities we possess over the course of our lives. In every stage of life, we have different perspectives, experiences, and dreams. I think the fluid, curvy shape of the poem conveys how we are constantly evolving as we gain certain identities and lose others. Although parts of our identity such as gender, race, and social class are determined at birth, we create our identity out of those things and are given the ability to change it. There is not one set person that we have to be; we can determine who we are or who we want to be on a daily basis. As children, our problems are simple, but as we become older it seems that we are constantly worried about jobs, family, and money. As someone who has just become an adult, I find this newfound identity terrifying. The thought of going off to college in just a few months and taking on a new identity as a college student makes me wish that I could go back in time to when I did not have any responsibilities or important decisions to make. However, it is also exciting to discover the layers of who I am as I take on this new experience. Although I am not the same person I was a year ago and I am not the person that I will be in another year, it is intriguing to know that my current experiences, aspirations, and dreams will shape my future self.
ReplyDeleteMy parents, my dad in particular, always tells me stories about when he was my age and all the crazy things he did (and how happy he is that I'm not as wild as he is). It always made me laugh because after every story he would say, "You know I was pretty cool before I had kids". Which you could only imagine was great to hear as his only daughter. But it gets me thinking, we change. We change a lot. Our looks change, our bodies change, our view of the world change. As a senior in high school now, I feel like I have seen so much life and experienced so much, but I am only 17. How crazy it is to think that I have been so many forms of me. I have two younger brothers, so I have always been the oldest and I think of myself as the mature, older, all-knowing one when in reality my life has just started. I may feel like I have lived, but I have so many more years to change and to mold and then to change again. I am excited to continue this crazy journey called life and experience every single weird quirky forms of me.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy - there's something special in each age, comes and goes, replaced by something else special. Nothing to fear losing, just to enjoy being in.
DeleteThis poem mimics my mindset as I progress through time and associate myself with new experiences and people. After reading it I feel refreshed, inspired, and motivated to go through life steadily and successfully. In my own life, I strive to become a better and different person than I was in the past, even if I am proud of the person I was. The older I am, the more awake and aware I feel which relates to the author’s action of opening his eyes to the new world ahead. Each thing that I accomplish does not settle me but rather fuels me to do even greater things with my life. Rather than being someone completely different like the author states, I am still the same person, just a more improved and polished version of my past self. I wonder if the author has regrets for his past. I also wonder if the author had a rough past life that drives him towards the excitement he has for the future and the anticipation for a better life. Since the author calls himself a fool and calls himself fat in the past, these negative terms lead me to these conclusions about what his life used to possibly be. The collage is very chaotic and colorful, possibly symbolizing the complex paths that life can take someone as well as the ups and downs that a person can experience. I also see a young baby and a grown adult which, to me, represents life and the process of a person growing up and getting older.
ReplyDeleteWhen glancing through the various poems of the year 2018, “A walk beyond …” especially spoke out to me for prominent reasons. I interpreted this poem as a speaker who is continuously changing forms of him or herself and embracing that change whether it comes easy or difficult. Within changing forms of him or herself the speaker goes through the average human challenges that are faced upon different stages of one’s life. I resignant with this poem because as a rising college student I am on the brink of a new form of myself. It is quite difficult to conceptualize how in just four/five months I will completely be on my own. While I have the privilege to not be solely financially independent I will be, emotionally. If one were to really think about the idea of going to college, it's frightening. All my life, eighteen years, I have been able to emotionally depend on my family for support and most times as an outlet whether it be in a healthy or unhealthy way. The speaker includes the detail of when its eyes close, a dream is formed and that is exactly the truth. Personally, my dream so far is to attend college as I am the first generation to attend a four year university in my family. But then further down the speaker includes the infatuating and prominent issue of health especially in the country that I live in: America. Body weight is a whole emotional issue that embodies so much more than just eating unhealthy but not to get too into depth with that; it's interesting how much problems people share and how that connects people, maybe and hopefully for the better. The collage that accompanies this poem is the perfect fit as it encompasses the beauty of the human forms that humankind goes through. It's chaotic but also beautiful within itself. The childish drawing on the right hand corner illuminates the innocent toddler who so happily draws for fun. The river background is a great addition to the collage as it brings each image together and I interpret it as one’s journey and as the water is flowing it seems to flow slowly just like the growth of one.
ReplyDelete