What makes us who we are?
Is it our dreams?
Our aspirations; our optimism?
Is it our accomplishments?
Our deeds, and words?
Is it our possessions and money?
Do these define the man or woman?
Is it who we surround ourselves with?
Our family and friends?
Is it our career and impact to the world?
Our self-important tasks we value too much?
Is it what we believe?
God, or spirituality, or some intangible?
Does it even matter what we believe?
It doesn’t change reality, and everyone believes something different.
Or is it what we think when no one is around? What we desire in the darkness?
Is it the totality of all of it?
Or what remains when everything is subtracted?
I contemplate who I am; who I wish I were; and I am left with one simple conclusion:
What little man, I am.