Who am I?
I am one of We.
I am not one of The Others.
Without The Other, I can’t be, because without The Other there can be no We.
Without sleep there would be no being awake. Being awake would be everything and therefore nothing worth pointing at and talking about.
Without The Other, We would be everything and therefore nothing.
How can I be one of We?
I have to be seen as being one of We, because We are a group of mutually observing subjects that continually produce evidence of separation from Others. We do things, We say things, We look ways, We walk ways, We talk ways. We demonstrate our Weness to each other as a mutually helpful anchoring, reaffirming to each other who We are, who each member is.
But why do We do things exactly this way and not another way? Is that just how things are or is that how they have to be? Do the doings, the markers follow from who We are? Or do they rather create who We are, do they create the We?
A We may have answers. We dress this way because it is functional, or because it is pretty, or because it wouldn’t be right to do it any other way. We talk this way because We speak truth, and talking any other way would be untrue, would be a lie.
A strong We sees itself as right. Stopping to participate in being We makes you wrong. The We produces a pull, a suction that keeps its members in. The We is safe. It saves its members from being wrong. The We preserves itself, but it also preserves you. Me.
I want to be safe, and the We enables safety by providing a boundary. Maybe I don’t need a cage, but I do need to feel the ground underneath my feet, don’t I? And the ground is a boundary.
If I do the things We do, does that mean I do them for the reasons We do them?
Maybe I do, or at least I think I do. But there is a simpler answer: I do them in order to be. Because if I am not part of a We, then who am I?
There might be a very unique rock somewhere, but no matter how unique, it is only unique among rocks. It is a rock. And what makes it a rock is that it sufficiently, if passively, participates in the ways of being a rock to be a rock, and that the ways of being a rock sufficiently differentiate it from other things to not be confused with them.
If I differentiated myself from everybody entirely, I would cease to be human. A rock that is not hard. A rock that is not in one piece. A rock that is liquid. Not a rock.
Do I need to be somebody?
Can I stop being one of a We?