Definitions and all that jazz...

"Choices we are given. It's no choice at all."

Finding your way back to center can sometimes be an extremely precarious situation. Realizing that what you thought was up is actually to the left and around the corner is quite possibly, the most un-nerving experience one can have. Definitions morph and flex and change until they are no longer hard lines but rather the consistency of over-cooked noodles.

Fluid definitions; a contradiction in terms. However off the wall and zany this notion may be, fluid definitions most certainly lurk around the most abrupt corners we create for ourselves. I imagine fluid definitions to take pleasure, actually, in challenging our most staunchly guarded definitions. Those definitions that we function in and hold so closely to our chests that imprints remain on our skin as we turn over to fall asleep each night. Those are the definitions that fluidity loves to embrace.

"I am. I am. I am." Oh how the corners of my mouth exhaust themselves with this phrase. I have spent years of my adult life defining myself by what I do for a "living." What the hell does that even mean really? I am queasy thinking about how much respect we give stress disguised as a dollar sign by dignifying it with the word "living." I hope there are aspects of each position that make a person happy. I hope that each day finds each working individual feeling as if they contributed. But...a "living"?

As disgusted as I am with this premise, I have embraced it and hugged it so hard that its little head is getting swollen and pinkish in hue. As the thunderbolt hit me last night and I found myself smiling my way to sleep, I kicked that notion's ass.

You want to watch the heads of many turn in circles? When someone asks you about yourself, don't include what you do to write the rent check every month. Don't mention the project at work. Don't talk about your boss or how you may be up for a promotion. Talk about YOU. Who YOU are. Watch their eyes fall from their sockets and their hands wring uncomfortably in their laps.

"Tell me about yourself."

"I am a writer."