Keep Being You

There’s a line from a movie that has been used in a number of ways and memes in pop culture: 
You keep using that word – I’m not even sure you know what it means!

Awhile back on social media a friend made a comment: 

Keep being you.

So, what does it mean to be me?
And what does it mean to keep being me?

What does it mean to be you?

What does it mean to keep being you?

I suppose it means to keep doing whatever it is that I am doing to be my authentic self, and whatever it is that anyone else is doing to be their authentic self.

Which for me, seems to be a somewhat 24-hour predictable cycle that always seems to begin in this way in some form every morning:

This morning as I awoke after about 8 hours of sleep, my body fully relaxed and my mind beginning the slow drip of percolation that I have awoken to another new day…I begin to think…

It is somewhat like the scene every morning in Groundhog Day when Phil awakes, glances at his clock, that is about to turn to 6:00 a.m., upon which he will experience the voices of Sonny and Cher singing I’ve Got You Babe… the radio will announce, “It’s time to rise and shine campers!”

Phil will think to himself, “It’s Groundhog Day. Again.”

And then he will launch into some convoluted seemingly same-plot version of seemingly same-plot long day and the next morning, he awakes seemingly without “a scratch or dent in his ‘ol fender.'”

According to Phil, he has been (insert….”blah blah blah”) – and every morning he awakes without a scratch on him.

Only to do some version of the same day all over again!

At one point, he considers the possibility while having breakfast with Rita that he might be “immortal” – some kind of “god.”

Rita assures him he is “not a god” and accesses her years of “Catholic School education speaking,” to support her opinion that he is “not a god!”

Phil then clarifies that he doesn’t think he’s “God” he just thinks he *might* be *a god of some sort.*

At this point, I think most people want to empathize with Phil and his pathetic conundrums.

Anyway, I don’t wake up at 6:00 a.m. listening to Sonny and Cher, unfortunately, but this morning like every morning I wake up feeling like I’m coming to under a terrifying pile of a thousand weights of bricks and other perplexities and emotionalities!

As my mind continues to percolate and brew (kinda like Phil in Groundhog Day – he is trying to place himself in this seemingly endless storyline that he clearly knows and experiences, while onlookers seem oblivious to his internal world and external experiences in his seemingly alternate universe!) – I attempt to retrace the internal and external happenings of the day before and especially the zone where was when I fell asleep!…

Hmm…where was I again?

Wait…what??!!!

I would say that my anxiety is at its highest possible peak upon awakening each morning, and by evening, it seems to make the most sense to me!

Ha!

After I have sufficiently contemplated and assessed both the internal and external situation(s) and made a rough mental outline of what I should focus on today, I contemplate putting my feet on the floor!

Typically right before this time I grab my phone and browse notifications from social media, start my coffee and contemplate whether it would be helpful to give some type of status update.

Since I seem to have a lot to say, I am shifting it to a better outlet, here.

One possible mention, in addition to what I wrote above (which btw I dictated by microphone into my email while drinking my coffee), is that I wonder what it felt like for a World War II soldier to wake up morning after morning in a war zone.

Do you think they made time for self-care like I do?

Do you think they had a good full 8 hours sleep like I did?

Do you think they felt it safe to even sleep (likely on the ground somewhere possibly in the woods in freezing temperatures like in the Battle of the Bulge)?

__________

The Battle of the Bulge is an interesting part of World War II history because the bulge was the losing of ground that was previously hard-fought for. 

It was a surprise maneuver, and for the Allies a battle on every front, pushing them backward into the only way they might escape.

Yet it was another hard-fought battle and in the end, the Allies prevailed.  They would surely have been defeated had not assistance come to them from the war-torn skies.

I am not making a case for pro-war, pro-military – I am just contemplating what that situation was like, with an awareness of history, and likening it to my sense of waking up in a situation that seemingly is 99.9% overwhelming and requires everything of me to fight battles on every front, most of which could not or should not be explained in too much detail to the general public.

But let’s get back from that contemplation to glancing at my phone and noticing again a comment by an old friend on my Easter post that “I look well-rested and healthy!”  That is a lovely comment but it causes me to shake my head in somewhat amusement also at the idea of how well I must carry internal and external stressors!

And then, there was another comment that came to mind about new beginnings and Easter which is so true. Not only of Resurrection Sunday but each new day.

Yet, I have questions.

Raising my metaphorical hand in this classroom of life to ask, how does one walk 100% in New Beginnings when they seem constantly forced by the series of their life choices or those of others to be constantly cleaning up and working through the past, as it still affects them today and will, in the future?

And this is not limited to the obvious external things we all must deal with from the past, but include the deeper battles are personal and very hidden.

For me, at least, the entirety of it is quite stressful, emotional and anxiety-provoking.

Yet here I am, about a third of the way through my coffee being enjoyed from a mug that says “don’t quit your daydream”… thinking about the overriding takeaway from the movie Groundhog Day.

The odd thing about Phil was that throughout whatever experience he was having (which seemed to be a bit unique at least during his time in Punxsutawney)… all along there was gradual, hidden, forward movement that was quite imperceptible to both himself and his friends.

So I suppose for me, to keep being myself, means to keep expressing the musings of my days and to “keep on keeping on“ as they say… in situations that seem to have no clear end nor clear marker of arrival into the full realm of new beginnings we all so desperately need...