Who Am I?

I tried again. Went to Picasa web, put my pictures into it and it still doesn't show those pictures there. Woe is me, but I plug along anyway.

So, I know that Rene Descartes solved the question of "do I exist?" "I am, therefore I am" or something like that. But he didn't solve the question of "who am I?"

When I look in the mirror, with all honesty towards myself, I see who I am from my perspective: a seventy, almost two, year old woman, who enjoys being busy and productive the best, loves having friends, but at the same time enjoys having my space without big obligations to hold to.

I am pretty fit, for my age and, when cleaned up, I shouldn't scare anyone who meets me for the first time. I love to learn new things and read about ideas I have never thought much about before. I consider myself to be pretty independent, not only in my thinking, but in my space. I like to make up my own mind about what I think and where I go, even though I have to admit that being married has clipped my wings as much as it has Michael's.

Now, if you were to ask Michael who I am he would say I am an enigma, probably, but that is just a female thing, typical of my gender. He never knows which way the wind is going to blow next.  My kids would probably say that, in addition to being a bit of a minimalist, I tend to be somewhat rigid about raising kids. I'm not above telling my grandkids to mind their manners and plan financial goals. But that sounds like the thinking of many grammas I've heard. My kids think I'm pretty adventurous, I think.  I hope I set a good model for them to follow.

My Italian friend would say that I need to spice up my life a bit, even if it is just to add some garlic to my cooking. She doesn't know that I am a closet garlic user, with a jar in the fridge, anyway. I think my other friends find me to be somewhat athletic and entertaining with a bent to being faithful to my religious beliefs and a hardcore recycler. I think a couple of my friends find me to be somewhat literary and respect my points of view in what we read.

Of course maybe what others see in me is only what I allow them to see or what I want them to think they see. And I expect that is probably true of most of us. Whether the perceptions are accurate or not we tend to help paint our own portrait.

See, I told you I tend to the waxing of the philosophical.  To each her own. I am who I am.