DigiSnaxx vol 3: The Identity Issue
Basically I've been moving, a lot ... Medellin didn't work out at first, neither did Bogota; so I'm back near Medellin with a six-month lease. We'll see how it goes ... I've got a room, with access to a kitchen and bathroom. Two roommates I at least know ... but eh ... paso a paso ...
Quick Update on Projects
I'm kind of keeping up with idioki; moving was quite a bit to manage, and it still is.
The only internet I have is via my phone, so I can't do classes yet ... but I'm not mad. I've got patience and just a few more things I need to iron out.
Basically I've shut myself off again, just what needs to happen.
I'm alone, and that's ok; I've got a room, access to bathroom and kitchen, along with a safe place to store the motorcycle.
Ok, let's be honest, the editor of Colombia Reports said somethings caused me to step away; we'll see if I go back, or just start reporting the news myself :/
If I am going to work with a team, I need to manage that team and sobriety will be maintained; that's a baseline at this point.
Including cannabis.
I'm feeling slightly more inclined to write more, which is also a good thing I think, and so ... we continue:
It's curious how often it is up for debate, honestly.
I've recently been lectured on my identity and also told that I would likely have an identity crisis soon ... which is ... actually annoying, and somewhat enraging, to hear someone say to your face.
Though I suppose that is part of the benefit of having an orphan bastard around ... you can't really pin down a direct reason for anything, so everything is up for debate according to the audiences fetishes and perversions.
If we're being honest about it all.
Though to put the pieces to together about where I'm actually at with it all ... one of the DWM's said, half of man's problems are because he can't sit alone for 30 minutes with his thoughts; to paraphrase.
I'm quite content to sit for hours, even days, alone with my thoughts.
And this has yielded one specific outcome, I'm very aware of my thoughts, and where they are rooted.
One could say that this makes me acutely aware of my identity as well.
So when someone tries to manipulate my words or behavior ... I'm learning how to efficiently walk away.
It's a process; which really is my life story.
I should have walked away from it all the moment I turned 18.
Life has also afforded many other opportunities to reconnect with deeper roots than those of colonization; which can be an awkward position, quite literally between worlds.
I've seen the clouded behavior of those who use identity labels as both sword and shield to wield control; that is not my desire.
Dressing in natural fibers feels better to me. Giving thanks to the land, the sun and the moon, feels natural to me. Chewing hayo, singing songs of gratitude, grace and love ... it all feels like me.
And I know where the roots are buried ... the mornings and evenings at church singing in unison with hundreds of voices. Eating fresh caramel rolls at grandma's farm, racing grandpa's golf-cart around the yard. Sitting next to the stream in the backyard.
These are all things from my childhood, the beautiful parts; the parts I choose to hold on to.
Memories of the land, of family, of freedom, of genuine, safe (for-the-most-part) fun.
And how all children deserve as much, especially brown children, those descended from, and a part of, the first nations people who are the original stewards of this land.
In my personal opinion.
I'm not Latino, and I don't say that with pride, nor disdain; rather simply as a fact.
The aforementioned experiences enabled me to maintain a sense of indigeneity, a sense of connection to the land ... but I have no such connection to Latinidad.
I like salsa music and dancing, etc ... I think empanadas are great, and so is sancocho ... y ajiaco ... but none of that makes me Latino, barely Colombian; I can passably communicate the basics in Spanish, but not much more.
Nor do I have any aspirations to be Latino, which is kind of sad, but also ... I have my work, and my aspirations to give back to my people, which is enough for me.
That is my focus, and what I wish to center my identity around, if anything ... the work I choose to do to help others.
So for those waiting on the identity crisis ... you're about 25 years too late ...
All the neighborhood kids were dyeing their hair ... or rather bleaching it ... I thought, what the heck, it's only hair ... but later on when I reflected while on jail, it occurred to me, was I trying to be white?
Was there ever a compulsion to be white, or just to fit-in? And how deep was the compulsion to "fit-in", considering that one of my earliest memories was a compassionate reminder that I was not from the place in which I resided.
No anger. No resentment ... just a few pictures saying, "You're actually from the rivers, mountains and jungles."
Canin Carlos
More info about that ...
From an arguably early age, I had a somewhat strong set of principles and sufficient fear of crossing them.
I learned the danger of lying, especially of lying to one's self; the dangers of stealing, and even of simply harming others in the smallest degree.
And for these memories, the lessons they yield ... my dream is to be me, wholly and completely, no one else and not in anyone else's likeness ... me.
Who am I?
I don't know ... but I don't want to be fake about it either; I've seen the dangers in that.
Being on stage at an early age gave me a sense of gratification from attention; being denied anything other than superficial attention on my birthdays, gave me an early lesson on manipulation and neglect.
Though the duty was to find a middle way ... I got into Taoism first ... in my early teens.
There was anger, but there was so much more; the objective was to exorcise the anger and nurture the beauty, goodness and gratitude. Which those around me did their level best to make as difficult as possible, once I started trying to climb out of their labyrinth of delusions.
All of which only further compelled me, compels me, to want to find and be my own unique self; whomever that may be.