Who am I? – understandng identity

This is a question I have asked myself often – especially when I pause and reflect. Over time, I’ve come to believe that who we are, is woven with, and not always neatly; four threads: temperament, character, personality and identity.


Temperament is the Foundation
Before experience shapes us, before the world has its say, we arrive with a temperament. It’s our nature. It’s our inborn, biologically-based way of engaging with life — our natural energy level, emotional sensitivity, how we respond to stimulation, whether we lean toward boldness or caution. Temperament is nature’s first gift to us. It’s the fertile soil in which everything else grows.
But what happens when that soil/foundation is never allowed to simply be? When a primary caregiver — rather than nurturing what is naturally there — suppresses, redirects, or punishes those innate tendencies? The foundation is compromised before the building even begins! This, I now understand, is where my story started.

Character
Character runs deeper. It grows from how your temperament gets shaped. It is nature meeting will. It’s the bedrock of integrity, honesty, and resilience — moral qualities forged through choices and experiences. Character isn’t just how we act, but why we act that way. Crucially, character is something we can consciously build, even later in life. If your temperament was messed with, character is hard fought and hard won. Every boundary set, every hard truth faced, every act of self-honesty is character being forged — sometimes for the very first time and sometimes later in life!

Personality
Our personality is the collection of traits that shape how we think, feel, and behave. It is how we come across to others and ourselves, ideally, it grows organically from our temperament, shaped by experience, relationships, and environment. But personality can also be coerced — molded by fear, control, or the need to survive a difficult childhood. When that happens, we can spend decades wearing a personality that was never truly ours, we mask!


Identity
Identity is the trickiest of the four. It is our sense of self — shaped by beliefs, experiences, culture, and the roles we play. But what happens when that sense of self is fragile — or borrowed? Or built on someone else’s blueprint entirely?

This is where, the question, “who am I?’ comes a little unstuck. Having been raised by a controlling, coercive caregiver — my identity was never truly my own. My temperament was not allowed to develop freely. My personality, character, and identity were shaped by someone else’s needs, not my own nature. My sense of self has never felt strong or stable!

Only after changing my life completely, setting boundaries, and hard-won introspection have I begun to truly understand that identity is not fixed — and that it is never too late to start building one that is genuinely mine.

So, who am I?
Ask myself on different days, and I may get different answers:) And that’s okay. I’m a work in progress — still excavating the person who was always there, waiting beneath the surface, waiting to be reclaimed
Identity isn’t something you find like a lost key. It’s something you build — through trial, error, and honesty, healing, understanding and introspection – ever changing:)

A Moment of Awe


A fly settles on my cheek,
stuck in the sweat
of a too-hot morning.

I wave it away. Another lands.
I don’t want to be distracted.

A rusty gate prevents my advance
but cannot block this view of grandeur:
the distant mountain range
hazy after the fire.
Standing rugged and majestic—
immobile on the horizon.

A raptor waits, patiently, precarious atop an acacia.
An agama bobs on a hot rock in the path.
The sun beats mercilessly.
Flies continue to harass my body.

Standing here, I am humbled. In awe.
Engaged in pure solitude—
for one short, hot, sweaty, dusty moment
between flies—

I breathe deeply,
and leave, empowered

I No Longer Need to Struggle!

Embracing an E-Mountain Bike

Sometimes in life, all the uphill battles we face, and all the struggles we experience become personified, normalized, and habitually worn like a badge of honour. In my late 60s, I’ve arrived at such a moment—a time when I realize I no longer need or want to struggle, or at least not as much, and definitely not all the time!

For most of my life, struggle in one way or another has been a constant companion. It was as if I were on a never-ending climb, each step in hindsight, a testament to perseverance and endurance. But now, a shift in my perspective has emerged. I’ve come to understand what drove me, why I was driven, and why I struggled in my life. I have also come to understand that it’s okay to seek and accept help, and to let go of struggle. It’s more than okay to relax and enjoy the ride.

My bike is the symbol of a new journey

Like a trusty steed for a modern-day knight, my e-mountain bike has become a metaphor for this newfound liberation. With its gentle hum and seamless assistance, it whispers a reassuring truth: not all hills are meant to be conquered through sheer will alone. Sometimes, it’s about allowing yourself to be carried forward, with grace and ease. I no longer curse, grit my teeth, and power through every windy, corrugated rocky incline; instead, I can embrace all the beauty of the journey.

My bike doesn’t diminish the adventure—it enhances it! With each pedal-assist, I am reminded that the joy of the ride is not solely about reaching the top/end, but savouring the path that gets me there.

It has become a symbol of breaking free from these chains. It’s a declaration that I have the wisdom to choose ease over effort, without guilt or regret.

In letting go of the constant need to battle, I have found a serene acceptance. So here I am, a seasoned traveller on the road of life, gliding effortlessly on my e-bike. It’s not just a mode of transport—it’s a testament to a life well-lived and a future brimming with possibilities.

The Tankwa re visited – April 2023

My world is waking, a canvas of tranquillity unfolds. Clusters of pale Naples yellow grass move gracefully, their slender blades swaying in perfect harmony with the gentle breeze that caresses this soon to be hot place. The pre-dawn glow tints the east with a muted orange hue, casting an ethereal glow upon the landscape.

Silhouetted against the painted sky, the rocks stand as sentinels, their darkened forms, and my yesterday’s sculptures contrast against the emerging light. The distant hills emerge in delicate layers, and the secrets of the forthcoming day are revealed. Each moment of this sunrise brings a new revelation, a gradual unveiling of beauty and possibility.

With each step I take across the ridge, the shale floor scrunches underfoot, reminding me of the rugged terrain that surrounds me. The familiar crunch serves as a humble reminder that I am but a visitor in this grand symphony of nature. The moon and stars, brilliant just a few minutes ago, fade away, surrendering their stage to the sun.

As the first rays’ peek over a faraway mountain range, the world begins its metamorphosis. Soft shadows, like gentle fingers, reach out across the land, illuminating the sparce scrub and breathes life into the lone acacia that stands tall next to the fractured reservoir, a sentinel in this forgotten oasis.

In the distance, the majestic Cederberg range emerges, bathed in a palette of pink and mauve, its peaks seemingly painted by an artist’s brush. The colours blend seamlessly, creating a breathtaking vista that captures the essence of dawn’s beauty in the west. The tranquillity of this moment envelopes me, and I am overcome by the profound sense of harmony and peace in the stillness.

Sitting amongst the rocks surrounded by a symphony of colour and serenity reminds me of the sacredness of the natural world, and the importance of embracing it.

In this gentle dance of light and shadows, I find solace and inspiration. I wish I could share this feeling with others who are caught up in the chaos and noise of the world, tell them that there is peace and a silent sanctuary somewhere out there, if only they could find it.

My profound connection with nature is reinforced and I am once again filled with gratitude for my life.

Improving communication skills: How Ai and ChatGPT have helped me

I have not always been a good communicator in some arears of my life and have in the last few years concentrated on improving my communication skills, both speaking and listening.

Since I have started using ChatGPT and other Ai it has become evident to me that clear and concise communication is crucial when interacting with Ai, as it ensures that the information exchanged is accurate and relevant. Additionally, asking the right questions and actively listening to the Ai’s responses can lead to a more fruitful and meaningful interaction. When I asked ChatGPT how best to communicate with it, it answered by saying that “it responds better to precise input, this means organising your ideas and requesting them accurately”, and by carefully listening to the responses.” Nothing new here, but I know I don’t do it consistently!

It is a machine; it does not know me, cannot see me, and does not (yet) know how and what I think. However, by practicing effective communication with AI, I am sure I can develop better basic skills that improve my overall communication. The discipline of organizing my thoughts, asking focused questions, and carefully listening to responses will enhance my clarity, precision, and understanding. These skills can be carried forward into my everyday conversations and written work, allowing me to express myself more effectively and build better connections with others.