Who Do We Think We Are?

As my close friends know, I’ve been super hesitant to write this post… why? Because I’m back in Baja. Who do I think I am, coming back down here for another two weeks? Don’t I have a job? Where is poor Frank the traveling pug? (he’s happy and playing with his buddies at a friend’s house, don’t worry)

I was invited to come back down to the magical MEA campus here in Pescadero to lead a session on financial goal-setting, which is A) right up my alley, of course, and B) an outstanding excuse to come back.

So on the surface, it’s that. And yet it’s also more than that. No travel recommendations in this post (other than a hearty suggestion that everyone consider coming to Baja someday), but stick with me here…

I’m turning 50 this year, an excellent opportunity to think about next chapters. How might the next 10 years be different than the last? Of all the many questions that this special place holds space to answer, that might be at the top of most MEA alum’s lists. For a financial goal-setting class, that’s rich material, and led to some really great discussion around how to make the next chapter happen.

Ostensibly, that’s why I thought I was here this time, then. To teach a class and then to spend more time doing three of my favorite things: reading, writing, and walking on the beach. The universe tends to re-route our plans, though, doesn’t she. The time here has been ever so much more than that.

The title above was sparked by a conversation with a friend I made down here who is a very well known expert in the fitness industry. Suffice it to say that unless you’ve literally never exercised and have been living under a rock for the last 40 years, you know who she is. She’s had an extraordinarily long and successful career, and continues to be an active thought leader and traveler and seeker, and she’s an absolute inspiration. One day at lunch, a new arrival who somehow did not know who she was made some (inadvertently) thoughtless comments to her that led my friend (and the rest of us) to comment, “who does she think she is?”

Indeed.

Who did that well-meaning but awkward person think she was, making assumptions about my friend? Well, she was just being human, wasn’t she. Don’t we make assumptions all the time about who we think others are? We put people into boxes absolutely as quickly as we can, most of the time. And that translates to limits. On them and on us and on the quality of the relationships we have.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about this. Who do we think we are?

Are we our professions?

Our relationship status?

Our gender or appearance or age or family role?

I used to try on different personas when I traveled – all true, just never the whole story. Sometimes, when asked what I do, I’d say I’m a writer. Sometimes I’d say I’m an educator or a runner or an artist. Just to see how it would feel. (Saying “financial advisor” always led to dull, technical questions anyway). Now I find that I want to have multiple answers. It’s finally dawned on me that I don’t have to pick – we all, as Walt Whitman brilliantly said, contain multitudes.

One of the brilliant journaling prompts here last week – there is one every morning that Chip Conley, one of the founders, sends out – was: “what mastery do I have to offer?”. Ask yourself this five times, and you can’t answer the same way twice. You may be surprised what you come up with. I was.

For instance, I’m great at my job, but it’s for sure not because I’m good at math (I guarantee you my team at work just LOL’d at that, because it’s sadly SO true. I am genuinely actually terrible at math). What I’m terrific at is taking very complicated topics and information and distilling them down, through analogies and storytelling, into something helpful and actionable.

What mastery do you have to offer? What is it that you have a natural ability to do that others don’t? And how does that fit with who you think you are?

The sunsets here leave me struggling for words to describe them. Same with the people I’ve met that have prompted these deep and fascinating conversations about who we are and why we’re here. Amazing doesn’t even begin to capture it, but that’s all I’ve got. The fireside conversations over too many glasses of Mexican wine, the dance parties, the beach walks, the yoga classes, the hugs, and the love. Thank you, thank you, to my amazing MEA friends – especially the four-pack of us that arrived together and have been enriching each others’ lives from that very moment – and to Chip and Christine and Jeff for creating this special place.

So here’s a thought, my traveling friends. Ditch the limiting labels. Or at least add lots of commas and broaden them out. Who do you think you are, really? And why do you often think you have to be someone else? And as we discussed last time, who says?

In love and adventure,

Traveling Girl