Who I Am

I am empathic. I am malleable. I am impressionable. I ebb and flow with the surrounding energies and events. I suck up positivity, negativity or ennui, whatever I brush up against. I become the book I’m reading, I act the films I watch, I identify with everyone and everything. I am open, like a sponge, gathering the world into me and sometimes I feel as though I will explode with overwhelming information. This is why the urban life is hard for me. I am never alone. Even when unaccompanied for hours on a trail with no humans around me the collective energy of the surrounding city envelops me and I feel it, pushing in at my edges, seeping under my skin.

I like who I am. I like that I have the ability to understand and sympathize with others. I like that I can be a chameleon and be a banker, singer, athlete, buyer, photographer, writer, climber, environmentalist. It also makes me a Jill of all trades, master of none, forever striving, searching for the ONE thing that completely fulfills. And is there ONE man who can match my idiosyncrasies? Or do I need three or four to pair up to my changing tides. Or would I just absorb all their characteristics as well and lose myself in others as I so often do; dissipating a little with each partnership, astray, having to scratch my way back to some sense of normalcy.

Perhaps I should live alone in a cabin far off in the woods, living off the land, learning MYSELF. But then I would likely become a bear or a wolf or a skunk that lives under the porch, soaking up their essences, empathizing with their seasonal lives of subsistence.