The snapshot of me in the Roy Rodgers get-up was taken in September of 1959. I know because my Mom wrote the month and year on the back. She didn’t record the exact day, but it was probably my birthday, judging from those brand-spanking-new duds. I had just turned five years old.
(Now do a little math and you can figure out how old the guy in the other picture is.)
That little cowpoke is my all-time favorite picture of me, not only because I was so darned cute back then, but also because it says a lot about who I really am. Yeah, that little hombre was a rough-rider: hyperactive, happy-go-lucky, ready to take on anything. In many ways, I’m still that rambunctious kid – on the inside.
Of course, on the outside – I’m the guy in the other photo.
Well – that’s what some people think. But the outside is just temporary quarters. The real me really is on the inside. It’s who I am, forever. And nothing else is:
- Not what I look like (see picture at right)
- Not what I do for a living (information technology)
- Not the talents I have (writing, music, acting, etc.)
- Not the roles I play (husband, father, son, uncle, etc.)
- Not how old my earth suit is (see math problem above).
Still, all that stuff gets thrown in the hopper, mixed up and spit out as my identity to the people around me. I have to keep reminding them – and myself – that’s not who I am.
I am the eternal, ageless, childlike me
Tugging on the world’s coattails
Trying to be seen
For who I am.