Sticky-Note Self

Since embarking upon this Search for the Authentic Me thing, I find that, ironically, it has sort of driven me to a certain level of inauthenticity.  I want to find some STUFF that defines me, but rather than let that grow organically out of myself, I'm trying to stick things on like post-it notes.  I find myself wanting to go out and do stuff so I can say I did it, so I can be actively seeking this Me of which I speak.

I keep getting distracted from Who I AM by Who I Want to Be.  So now I have a touchstone for what's authentic:  if I'm doing it just so I can take a picture and post it on Facebook.... it's probably not authentic.

I'm like a crow, distracted by shiny stuff.  Or maybe a bowerbird or pack-rat is more appropriate.  "Ooo!  That's shiny!  That's admirable or desirable or cool, I'll just stick it on, add it to my collection, post it on my blog." Then it's mine, and since we all know that you are what you acquire, those qualities will be transferred to Me, thereby instantly making me admirable, desirable, cool, etc.

On the other hand, maybe you don't know what fits until you try it on.

Like volunteering at Wildcare.  For the past three weeks, I've gone once a week to volunteer for this wildlife rehabilitation center in Noble.  I've been meaning to do it for a long time, and so finally now I'm making the time to do it.  I'm trying it on.  I've never volunteered anywhere before (of my own free will. Doing things because your job or your position on the board doesn't count).  Does that make Me a Volunteer?  Maybe not, but I think that volunteering as a means of interacting with and caring for wild animals IS Me.  So I guess that passes the Facebook test.

Me with a lorikeet.  Narcissistically FB ready.

Bungee jumping... probably wouldn't. Not that I'm tempted, frankly.

This week I took my son to the zoo to see the new baby elephant.  I did it for a couple of reasons.  One, because I'd been feeling low and nobody can feel low in the presence of a baby elephant. Two, I want to share experiences like that with my son while he's still young enough to be interested in going to the zoo with his mother and I fear my window is closing there. Three, I wanted to post pictures of us doing something fun together on Facebook and Flickr.  This proves I'm a good mom who is engaged in her son's life and wants to offer him enriching experiences.

My son with a lorikeet, having an awesome time.

Pass the FB test?  Sure, I think so, because I had genuine reasons as well as self-serving reasons.  And truly I enjoy the zoo, as long as I don't go too often or when it's too hot or too crowded.  There are two things I love about it (besides the obvious one of gaping at exotic animals).  I love to watch my kid enjoy the experience and (see above), I like to interact with animals.  My favorite is the lorikeet experience.  You get a cup of nectar and you're ushered into the aviary full of beautiful, brightly colored birds who have been conditioned to expect sweet deliciousness from humans.  They land on your shoulders, your hands, arms, head. They crowd each other around the cup, they can even take the plastic lid off with their beaks, I was told, in their eagerness to satisfy their need for the sweet stuff.

I love these silly, shallow birds. They're utterly self serving and unapologetic.  Besides that, they have cool dinosaur feet and they are colored like plush toys.

There's something about birds that is truly wonderful.  I love the feel of bird feet curling around my finger.  I love their bright eyes and the way they turn their heads to inspect you first from this eye and then from that. At Wildcare there are some mostly fledged starlings that hover around the outdoor "Play yard,"  begging shamelessly for a handout from every human that passes through.  They land on your head and shoulders and practically have to be nudged out of the way in order for you to walk through.  Interacting with them makes me feel somehow privileged.  Most people don't get to interact with wild birds in this way.  It makes me glad I volunteer there, and keeps me coming back, as do the baby opossums, no matter how smelly their cages.

So I don't know.  Maybe I'm just sticking sticky notes all over myself, but maybe it's okay during this process to try on a few labels and see if they fit. I don't think I can come up with any better plan, so that's what I'll have to go with for now.