“Who am I?”
This is to me, one of the most if not the most troubling question.
First, because I don’t think it can be answered in words or any other formal ways. Maybe through art, but I’m not sure. I feel that any answers in any forms will always be a part, a glimpse of something elusive.
The second reason is that I’m relentlessly changing. Answers are like photographs, they capture a moment. Even when I feel I have an answer, the truth about who I am has already moved. Maybe just a tiny shift, but enough to make any response obsolete at the moment it appears.
The third and most troubling reason is that anytime that question emerges in my awareness, I know something is off. When what I do is aligned with who I am, my life is the living answer to that question. So magically that question disappears from my radar. When it appears, however, that means there are some misalignments. And that question is like a voice reminding me that something wants to change.