ME, A NAME I CALL MYSELF

This is perhaps one of the postings I’ve been looking most forward to writing since the topic was given to me by my childhood classmate, Heather, who has in adulthood become a friend, even if from a distance through social media and text messages.  The post centers on a poem by Edgar Guest entitled “Myself". She told me that her mother taught her this poem as a child and had it memorized before she even began school. She wanted to know how I view the poem as it relates to “myself”.  

The poem is somewhat obscure, as I did a bit of research on it, and even asked my high school English teacher about it.  She taught for over 40 years and was unfamiliar with the poem, but is familiar with Edgar Guest.   This poem was a challenge in several ways to me—First I, too, decided to memorize it, and I accomplished that goal.   Secondly, as I recite the poem the words come alive for me, and I see so clearly how this poem relates to me on each level.  So, without further ado, I present to you the poem, and how it relates to me: how I live my life, how I view myself, and how I want to be viewed by others.

Myself

I have to live with myself and so

I want to be fit for myself to know.

I want to be able as days go by,

always to look myself straight in the eye;

I don't want to stand with the setting sun

and hate myself for the things I have done.

I don't want to keep on a closet shelf

a lot of secrets about myself

and fool myself as I come and go

into thinking no one else will ever know

the kind of person I really am,

I don't want to dress up myself in sham.

I want to go out with my head erect

I want to deserve all men's respect;

but here in the struggle for fame and wealth

I want to be able to like myself.

I don't want to look at myself and know that

I am bluster and bluff and empty show.

I never can hide myself from me;

I see what others may never see;

I know what others may never know,

I never can fool myself and so,

whatever happens I want to be

self respecting and conscience free.-Edward A. Guest

I have to live with myself and so I want to be fit for myself to know. I want to be able as days go by, always to look myself straight in the eye; I don't want to stand with the setting sun and hate myself for the things I have done.

Essentially, my life is mine, and mine alone.  I want to be able to look at myself and see that I am worthy of knowing myself.   I want to live my life with integrity, truth, and peace.  I don’t want regrets to bog me down.   The line that strikes me most here is “I don’t want to stand with the setting sun and hate myself for the things I have done.”  I think it is often in our human nature to lick our wounds, to feel sorry for ourselves, to regret the things that we have done (or haven’t done).  I want to be able to live without regret. I want to be able to go to sleep at night with a clear mind, that I haven’t intentionally done harm to anyone or anything, that I have done my very best.

I don't want to keep on a closet shelf a lot of secrets about myself and fool myself as I come and go  into thinking no one else will ever know  the kind of person I really am, I don't want to dress up myself in sham.

How much meaning does this phrase have in my life?   While I think we all probably have things in our proverbial closets that we don’t want exposed to the light, I am a gay man.   I have chosen to expose that truth to the light.  My exposing that truth to the light set me free in every way imaginable.   When I told my mother I am gay her immediate response was “I don’t have a problem with that.”   Generally, the vast majority of the people I’ve encountered in my life have reacted in much the same way.   The truth is, it’s a lot of work to not be authentic to your own self.   Staying in the closet is a lot of work.   I’m sure that some people have valid reasons for staying there, but I have to be honest, I just can’t, for the life of me, understand why.  Generally, people can tell if you are hiding a part of yourself.  Now, I want to make it clear here that I don’t want my being gay to be something that defines me, but it is an undeniably large part of who I am and, therefore, how I conduct my life.   Yet, I don’t feel that I have to broadcast this information to everyone.   If someone asks, I’m not going to lie about it. I spent many years held captive to my own fears, and it was only in surrendering that the truth really did set me free.

I want to go out with my head erect I want to deserve all men's respect; but here in the struggle for fame and wealth I want to be able to like myself. I don't want to look at myself and know that I am bluster and bluff and empty show.

Simply: I want to live my life with an integrity that commands respect, and I can only do that by being myself.  People can sense fake from a mile away.  I’d rather be me and be hated for it than being loved for someone (or some “thing” I am not).

I never can hide myself from me ;I see what others may never see; I know what others may never know, I never can fool myself and so, whatever happens I want to be self respecting and conscience free.

The whole crux of the poem boils down to this: I have to live my life in congruency with my own values.   I know myself better than anyone else; therefore, I can’t hide things from myself.   When all is said and done, I have to answer to myself for the things I have done.  I have to be able to look in the mirror and be proud of myself. I have to lay my head down at night guilt-free, knowing that I have lived each and every day being true to my authentic self. That’s ALL that matters.

Here’s my confession:  I’ve spent the last 40 years living in my body.  I know myself better than anyone else can possibly know.  External forces can influence me, but in the end, I’m the only one who can make decisions and conduct my life in any certain way.   I know that there are people out there who do not understand me; people who don’t get me, and even people that just plain don't like me.   There are people who question my sanity for writing this blog, for posting random facts about myself on facebook, for wearing bow ties, and those probably just scratches the surface of why people scratch and shake their head about me.   The truth is that those are all elements of what make me, well, ME.  They are elements of what come together to create “Myself”.   And, while I want to deserve all men’s respect, at the end of the day, it’s MY life.   Certainly, nobody likes to be criticized for their individualism, and I’m no exception, but I ask “myself” why should I try to fit in when I was made to stand out?