“Who am I?” is one of the toughest questions we can ask ourselves.
Any answer we can think about is just an approximation.
It is like measuring the mass of a black hole in space.
By definition, we cannot observe black holes directly because nothing, including light, can escape from inside them.
Astronomers determine the mass of a black hole by measuring the impact they have on what’s around them — for example, measuring the orbit of the stars around the black hole or analysing how the gravity of the black hole affects the light of near stars.
We do the same when we have to answer the question “Who am I?”. Our essence has no form so we can’t measure it with objective parameters. This is why we define who we are by talking about the impact of our identity on our world; our work, our beliefs, our why, our role and so on.
I believe the only direct answer to the question “Who am I?” is “I”.
And even if I know that I will never find an answer that can satisfy my analytic mind, it is vital to keep asking that question and searching the answers.
P.S. I’m not an astronomer so my description of how the black holes are measured may not be accurate.
I began journaling years ago.
It’s one of the morning rituals that help me reconnect with myself.
Over the year I’ve adapted my journaling to my changes, but one thing never changed; I never read what I write. Never.
Once my thoughts and feelings are out of my mind and heart, black ink on white paper, they are gone.
I don’t read what I write in my journal because I soon realized how hard it can be to have an honest conversation with myself.
Every transformation starts with an honest conversation. One in which we acknowledge that we want to change something and we bring it out in the light.
I always knew that these kinds of conversations with others are difficult. There is the fear of the judgment, of the pain that we can feel or cause, of the unknown that can emerge.
But it was only when I started journaling that I realized how hard it can be to have an honest conversation with myself.
I never thought that I could be so good avoiding the truth when talking with myself. I could lie to myself even when I know, obviously, that I am lying.
Yet, no transformation can start without an honest conversation with myself. My never-read-it-again journaling ritual is a safe space where I can have a frank dialogue with me.
Do you have a safe space where you can talk honestly with yourself?
Riding my motorbike I learned that I must always choose wisely where to point my gaze. Due to a well-known effect called “Target Fixation”, if you focus on an obstacle, like a pothole, you are most likely going to hit it no matter how much you want to avoid it.
Your whole body follows your gaze.
And the bike direction is informed by your body.
So, to have a smooth ride one of the most important things is to be constantly aware of where your attention is while you’re riding.
You can even if you don’t have a motorbike. Try to walk straight towards a point while keeping your head turned and looking all the time at another direction. You will struggle to keep a straight line.
I found this principle very useful in every aspect of my life.
My attention drives my actions.
When my attention is not aligned with my goals, I struggle to keep myself on track.
If you’re not getting where you want, maybe your attention is not aligned with what you want.
It’s often a surprise when you meet, in person or through stories, the man or woman behind the artist.
I remember some encounters after which I was perplexed, asking myself “How can this person be the same who wrote those beautiful and inspiring songs?”
On the surface, this distance between the person and the artist may seem a lack of authenticity. But if we look a bit deeper, we can see that they are just different vibrations of the same energy.
Human beings have the potential to do things that are bigger than themselves. Things that go beyond the limitations, weakness and miseries of their human form.
This ability is more evident in artists, but it is innate in everyone.
We all have the power to go beyond our human form.
To make our actions and words bigger than ourselves.
We are all artists.
Are your actions and words bigger than yourself?
Are you inspiring and uplifting yourself and others beyond your limitations?
I don’t know.
It’s a reminder to myself.
This morning I woke up with the awareness that I don’t know.
It was a bit scary at the beginning.
Then I took a deep breath, and I decided to acknowledge my not knowing.
I don’t have all the answers, and I will never have all the answers.
Not knowing makes me feel free.
I don’t know.
It is also an invitation to myself.
An invitation to embrace not knowing and be curious.
To open up to the wisdom of the world and the beauty of humanity.
So, I won’t get trap in the urge of knowing what is coming, but I will allow for the answers to unfold while I move forward.
I don’t know.
We’re all born creative. It’s our nature.
Can you think of someone more creative than kids playing? They can transform every object in a new game, any space into a new world.
Then something happens while we grow up.
Studies are showing that our creativity dry out while we go through school and when we become adults, for must of us, it looks like it’s gone.
We get stuck in the logic trap.
We do things only when they are reasonable.
When we can predict the outcome. And in doing so, we become blind to what is possible beyond what is probable.
Unfortunately, when we are called to face the unpredictable, some crack. They can’t see a way forward, and so they hide moving backwards.
But we are all born creative.
Creativity is there.
It doesn’t disappear.
We just need to create space in our life for creativity to expand.
When I feel stuck in something, and my mind can’t find a way forward, I ask myself questions such as:
- What would I do if this was just a game?
- What would I do If I know I can’t fail?
A child has no trouble believing the unbelievable, nor does the genius or the madman. It’s only you and I, with our big brains and our tiny hearts, who doubt and overthink and hesitate. — Steven Pressfield
Sometimes all it takes it’s just to begin.
To do something.
To write a word.
To draw a line.
To say a word.
Whatever as long as you set things in motion.
Sometime our goals may be scary.
When I was leaving in London, I used to go out running early in the morning.
Midway in my usual path, there was this beautiful place called Primrose Hill. As the name suggests, it’s a nice little hill from the top of which you can enjoy a fantastic view of the city.
Little but with a steep slope.
I knew that I wanted to see the dawn from up there but, being midway in my running I was scared by the climb.
For a while, I got there only to take a look and then start my way back.
Then one morning, inspiring by something I read, I decided to go for it.
That day I didn’t look at the top, at my destination.
I knew very well where it was.
Instead, I kept my gaze on my feet.
One step after the other.
A bit worried at the beginning but, in the end, it was just about taking a small step. And another small step.
And then I gained momentum, and before realising it, there were no more steps to take.
I was at the top.
The city before me.
It’s great to have bold and audacious goals, but sometimes those same goals may stop us from acting.
Once the goal is set, stop thinking about it. Find the first small action you can take to go in the direction of your target and put all your attention on that. That step is all you have to worry about.
And once is done, move to the next one.
Keep focusing on your next step until you gained momentum.
And then you are unstoppable.
Ready to conquer your hill.
How often do you find yourself in the midst of a tension between two forces? Maybe it’s between you and someone else, or between two choices, or between what you want and what others want.
Being there, in that space in-between two divergent forces can be stressful. Our soul stretched being pulled in opposite directions.
A client once gave me a beautiful metaphor for these situations.
It’s like being the ball in a pendulum, swinging left and right.
Pushed and pulled by both sides.
Typically, what we do is to find some kind of equilibrium in the middle. What we call a compromise. But, with forces on both sides pulling us, to stay still takes a considerable effort. It consumes our energy.
If you take a look at the picture of the pendulum, there is a point that doesn’t move; the one at the top from which the ball is hanging; the pivot. It just stays there, being itself unchanged no matter where the ball is.
Anytime I feel I am in the middle of tension, with opposite forces pulling me in different diversion I asked myself a simple question.
What does it mean, in this situation to be the pivot?
Most of the time, this question leads me to the source of the matter, where the key questions lay.
Next time you find yourself between two forces, instead of looking for a compromise, try to look at it from the pivot’s perspective.
Who do I serve?
Last week, during a compelling conversation with a dear friend, this question came up for me.
This is not an easy question yet I feel it is a fundamental one.
We all live and work in this tension between our inner purpose, needs, desire and the purpose, needs and desire of the world outside.
At the beginning I thought that I should be able to sacrifice my own needs for a greater good; to move from ego to eco. But then I realised that the answer was coming from my desire of feeling one of the good ones.
My second stage of this self-inquiry brought me back to the self. To serve others, I must serve myself first. So, through serving myself, I will be able to serve others.
Still, I wasn’t satisfied. Why does it have to be either/or? What if it’s an and? What if I can serve both myself and others at the same time? But how is this possible? What does it mean when my purpose and the purpose of others is different? Should I dedicate myself only to causes that are aligned with my own needs and desires?
Something was missing so I kept exploring, and then I read this sentence from Rupert Spira: “If we understand and feel that every animal, person and object is our very own self, we cannot go wrong.”
If I remove the boundaries between myself and others, that tension disappear. It’s no more about helping one or another. It’s about serving a higher vision. One the goes beyond this tension.
Rupert Spira wrote that “love is the experience of that oneness of being.”
Then the way forward is through love. Or, as Saint Augustine said:
‘Love, and do whatever you want!’
We all have lights and shadows.
I always found almost impossible to use my own light to explore my dark side. It is as if our light is cast outwards so we can’t use it to illuminate our inner shadows. Or maybe it is just fear.
But when I’m in a circle of trust with a group of people, something magical happens. The lights of others shred through my shadows, and I can look without fear in the darkest corners of my soul.
I had this experience one year ago, during a walk with a group of man on the Italian hills. We had a long and tough day. I, in particular, had an emotional breakthrough midway and I was facing my own demons. I had opened a door I’d always feared, and there I was, staring before the darkness behind that door. But that evening, while we were all together standing in a circle to close the day with gratitude, I felt the intensity of their light, and my own darkness became less scary.
“We cannot hold a torch to light another’s path without brightening our own.” —Ben Sweetland