I’m forgetting myself.
The phrase is needling me. It refers to the rules of polite society, forgetting one’s manners. Deprived of society, it’s no wonder if we forget social niceties. But "forgetting myself” goes deeper than that. During this viral, transformational human experience, we are forced to reassess our relationship with each other as a species. I am forgetting my friend self, my teammate self, my sharing self, my laughing self, my listening self.
Descartes’s “I think therefore I am” is incomplete. Thinking, in solitude, is not enough. We are not fully realized without assembling, interacting, pooling our resources, including our thoughts. Our greatest accomplishments all stem from extended collaborations.
There might exist a rogue, hermit ant, but ants come in colonies by nature. So do humans. Hermits are only partially whole without their colony. We are social beings, incomplete as individuals. The “me generation” missed the boat (okay, Boomer). It’s time to recognize that we are we.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 255: 158 words, TOTAL = 42,270; 17,730 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.