Who I really am?

Early this month I participated in a week long physical theater intensive called Winter Stomp held by the amazing people at Zen Zen Zo. I found it incredibly rewarding. A week long residential course where you do nothing but eat, sleep and train for eight to nine hours a day. No phones, no email, no contact with the outside. In the massively connected world in which we live it so rare to be allowed the opportunity to disconnect for a time and keenly focus on one thing.

It greatly reminded me of times spent in long yoga retreats. I soon found myself dropping into the same mind state and intensity of focus. It seems that we rarely push our selves to test our limits is this modern, cloistered world of ours. A rarity then, to be able to bring to one's training the specificity of intent achieved there. Many thanks to Lynne, Tatie, Aideen and Dave. Not simply for the engaging quality of instruction but how it was all put together as a community of shared effort and support.

The overarching theme for the week was the question:

Who am I really?

This theme was interwoven through much of the work in an effort for us to strip away many of the facades we construct for the world and gain a deeper understanding of self. I am sure there was also recognition that we often unknowingly deceive ourselves as well.

This work culminated in a solo performance on the last night by all of the stompers of a piece of completely open style attempting to answer the question posed.

As I had been on several occasions during the week I was enthralled at the level of talent, stage presence, directorial skill and just plan old hutsbar on display that night. There were quite a few pieces that are hard etched in my mind for years to come.

When I had sat down earlier in the day to put together my piece an interesting thing occurred. Being the elder member of the stompers this year I had done a bit more work on this particular question of self examination. Through many hours of ‘Just Sitting’ and contemplating this very question I had come to realize that, not only the answer, but the very nature of the question, changes as we progress through our lives.

As I sat I found a poem forming unbidden in my mind. Back at school I had written huge amounts of poetry. Long rambling affairs that, thankfully, are lost to time. So I began to answer the question from the viewpoint of who I have become but in the style of a long gone fifteen year old who was sure he knew what it was all about.

Here is that poem:

“Who I really Am?”

An explanation is eight verses.

I have said it before,

I’ll say it again

After all of this time

‘Still don’t know who I am

I have read and I’ve listened,

To philosopher’s, guru’s and fool’s.

I’ve done all the courses;

Worked with most of the tools.

A virgo, A Shinto.

A monkey. A nine.

All convenient labels,

For those who want to save time.

A tool using mammal,

With an oversized brain.

Who still keeps doing the same shit,

Over and over and over again.

I am not this physical body.

Though, I’ve really enjoyed what I’ve got.

But there is not a single cell I me.

That was here when the boy, Craig, grew up.

I am not my Brain either.

This conscious mind. It’s not me.

These senses, they cannot be trusted.

All this I was taught, too well, by LSD.

So, I’m composing this little ditty.

To perform and display who I am.

I’m trying to create a big finish…

But I fear it will be rather lame.

I don’t know where this life will lead me.

It’s been fun so far; I’ll trust luck.

So again to the question, Who am I?

I don’t know and I don’t give a fuck.