What I Am
By design, this title violates the principles of e-prime, a linguistic experiment of sorts that avoids the use of all forms of the verb "to be." The verb "to be" inaccurately suggests that nouns - those inimical persons, places, and things of the world - can ever attain a static, definable state.
This is not a new idea.
The beauty of avoiding "to be" and all its trappings lies in avoiding ever being tied down to a single definable notion.
"I am married" seems a simple enough statement. I permanently exist in the state of marriage. But does that make sense? Of course not. Existing in that state of marriage boils down to a series of choices, perhaps an unending series of choices, to continue behaving as a married person.
I choose to love this person though I could stop now. I choose to come home to this person though I could always move. I choose to remain faithful to this person though I could commit an infidelity. "I am married" glosses over a lifetime of choices, placing a relationship with another person above all others.
All this said, I am not married. But the example still stands.
This act of assessing "what I am" seems decidedly more difficult than my task of assessing "what I was" a year ago today.
I listen to NPR all day at work.
I neglect reading the blogs of others with dedicated frequency.
I either love or ignore, immediately, absolutely, devoutly, intently.
I drink more coffee than I ought.
I proffer my assistance to others without forethought.
I wait longer than I should to use the restroom because I remain convinced at every moment that I will miss something.
I accept stories as bait.
Someone set me a trap...
