Who Are You?

            Today’s question is simple, straightforward, and nearly impossible to answer:

Who are you?

            Beyond being a great song by The Who, I think this is one of those questions that forces us to plumb the depths of our minds but really never come up with an answer that can suffice to explain us in our totality. Many of the students with whom I spoke today typically began with their names, which had me explaining that our names do not define who we are. Names are placeholders, convenient designations for us to grasp onto, but certainly don’t convey the essence of who we are. No label can do this. Sure I can say that my name is Ryan and claim to be a husband, brother, son, uncle, friend, teacher, mentor, philosopher, weirdo and a whole lot of other things in between, but none of them will ever get to the root of what it means to be me (or you).

            One of the best answers I received today mentioned how we are the sum total of our dreams, memories, and experiences. We may be closer to the truth with this idea, this notion of being an aggregate of many pieces, yet we must recognize the shifting sands upon which all of these pieces of our totality are constructed. Change is fundamental to living and growing, especially when it comes to wisdom. Are we the same person who experienced X at age 12 when we have a similar experience at age 38? Probably not (Heraclitus would offer a firm "No").

            I don’t have any other questions for you other than the one asked earlier. Who are you? To be completely candid, my answer is “I don’t know.” It’s tremendously difficult to put into words, as are all phenomena that defy linguistic limitations (a profound religious experience comes to mind—completely ineffable, inexplicable), but that doesn’t let us off the hook as philosophers. We must still contend, grapple, wrestle with this question…and all good questions.

Please leave your comments below and feel free to share with others.

            P.S. – If you’ve never taken a Briggs-Meyer Personality test and want to find out who you are (in whatever limited psychological sense these tests can convey), please click here to take one. It only takes a few minutes and is—admittedly—frighteningly accurate. If you want to know more about me and my results, click the link below:

My Results 

Got Wisdom?

            Though the English language only has a few vestiges of gender left in its lexicon, most languages spoken today still use gender as an effective way to communicate the undercurrent of a word’s meaning. For the last several days, I’ve been thinking about the word “wisdom” and what it means to be wise. I think I have grown wiser over the years, especially as I close in on 40, but I know I have so much more to learn and experience before I would consider myself wise. And if our hero Socrates is any model for this, we would do ourselves a service by even doubting what wisdom we claim to have.

            The Greek word for wisdom that is at the root of the word philosophy is Sophia. It’s interesting to me that the word is feminine because it intimates tenderness, a supple nature that is yielding when it needs to be and firm only when absolutely necessary (like all good mothers are). More importantly, this reveals what I think the heart of wisdom is—our collected experiences being brought to bear on a particular situation in a particular moment. Wisdom does not have a one-size-fits-all solution to any challenge; instead, it is a skill that is honed over time if we are willing to learn from our failures and mistakes as human beings.

            Part of what brought on this reflection during the last few days is due to the book I am reading, Practical Wisdom: The Right Way to Do the Right Thing by Barry Schwartz and Kenneth Sharpe. They make a clear case for the need for cultivating wisdom in everyday living, especially in a society that prizes rules and incentives—two forces that essentially erode that wisdom (or at least its application). What’s most important about this book, though, is that the authors illustrate time and again how wisdom is not only necessary but universal. It is a skill that can be developed just like any other and, most notably, does not require super-human intelligence to be wielded.

            What is wisdom to you? How would you define it? Do you consider yourself a wise person? Why or why not? If so, how did you become so? Are there better ways of cultivating it than others? If not, why do you feel that is? Surely you must have some wisdom about some aspect of life, correct? How can we all encourage the use of wisdom in our daily living and the lives of others?

P.S. - If you love TED Talks as much as I do, check out Barry Schwartz's lament on the loss of wisdom in our society. It's quite good and full of useful anecdotes that demonstrate that anyone can be a wise person. I'm about halfway through the book, which is chock full of even more of these types of examples.