Are we afraid to know who we really are?
The more I observe the world around me,
the people I see and meet, read and listen,
in both my private life and in my work.
It seems to me that much of our life span is spent in temporary pursuits,
and very few actual moments of our lives are spent discovering who we truly are.
Is this because we are afraid to know who we are?
Would it open up too many other questions, for which we do not have answers?
Would it test our belief systems and values?
Or is it because we choose to exist rather than live?
Indeed, is it easier to exist than live?
Julie Lomas
