Creedo

In eighth grade I knew everything about everything, but the first thing I learned was that I knew nothing.

In ninth grade I learned enough to make me wonder at the rest.

In tenth grade I was confident that I knew who I was.

In eleventh grade I knew everything about myself, but the first thing I learned was that I knew nothing about myself.

In twelfth grade, God told me who I am, and for the first time, I listened. Now I'm back to knowing nothing. But, finally, I'm enjoying the process.

I wonder why my search for identity was so much more passionate than other people's. Is is because going to "real school" and adolescence came at roughly the same time? Is it because eight years of homeschooling led me to believe I was someone I wasn't? Or was it simply a process I would have gone through no matter what my place in life?

Life is such a process. I'm the kind of person who likes to accomplish things. I like to take a task, see it through to completion, and look back on it. That's why I have a tendency to say, "this part of my life is done" and "I've figured out that part of my life," when, really, there's no definite end to any part of your life. It just floats on, changing imperceptible, as it is only in retrospect that you can see where you came from.

For example, who I am now snuck up on me. I had it all figured out. I was one of those emotional guys--poetry, philosophy, psychology, books, music, academics. The mental but not the physical. I still remember in tenth grade when Mr. Mulkern asked us write down where we would be in fifteen years. It was an easy assignment for me, because I knew exactly where I would be. I would be holding at least two degrees in my hand, possible three. I would have a loving family and live in upper class suburbia. I would love my job because of the pioneering research I was involved in. I would be a success.

Haha. Those are the people I laugh at now.

When did it all change? When did I realize how ridiculous I was being stuck in my little shell of protection? Last summer the phrase "Ben-first" kept popping up on family vacation. For the first time, I was the one going in first. And the feeling was amazing.

It's like someone flipped a switch inside, and I could finally do what I wanted. Inhibitions are cruel beasts. And, best of all, it the switch got flipped at a time when I was imploring God to show me what I should be doing. That's why my new interests are more than a passing obsessions; they're deeply rooted in my concept of what God wants me to do.

I'll end all this with a quote by Tecumseh which I love. I guess all the poetry isn't gone from me yet.

"So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and bow to none. When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and nothing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision. When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home."