When did you first feel yourself? I’m not referring to your first memory, but rather the first memory of you connecting with your power, your might, your sense of self. What was that moment?

Was it hugging the curve of the highway as it dipped below the river? You, on your motorbike, mulling over the events that were your first real date and choosing to shut up the chatter and just drive. Was it stealing two bazooka bubble gums from the corner candy store and chewing both pieces till your jaws ached while the winter sun slipped behind the playground robbing you of that last vestige of warmth? Chewing the now rubberized gum, you were comfortable in your skin and wondered why you didn’t feel any sense of guilt or remorse. Was it then?

Or was it waking up in the middle of the night to grab for your son crawling dangerously close to an open outlet near your bed only to realize that it was an illusion? Maybe it happened while mucking around with your first iPhone, or iPad and tapping this icon or that until something cool happened. Since then you’ve never been without it. You charge your device religiously. You take it with you to the game. And when your team scores, you check the screen rather than the face of your son who looks to you to amplify his joy. Maybe that’s wrong, you mutter to yourself, but that’s who I am. And you’re okay with that.

Or maybe (surprise) it’s when you hear the same son now a man muttering in your left ear “let go”. You feel his sure grip and try to squeeze his hand to simply let him know you’re still here but your muscles no longer do your biding.

Maybe that’s when you sense yourself most clearly.