In yoga, they talk of the “journey of the self through the self to the self.”

The Buddhists talk of the “face before you were born.”

I imagine that all of us have layers upon layers of concentric concrete walls that surround our “true selves” or our “faces before we were born.”

A part of our lives is having these layers installed. By our parents and families of origin. By society. By the things that influence us along the way.

Each wall adds to what we think of as “identity.”

But each wall also removes us from what may really be “identity.”

At some point, we may realize that it’s not about adding more layers.

Instead, it’s about turning around and starting to bore through all of those layers of concrete, back to wherever it is we started from.

Kind of like the “big reveal” realization scene in Shawshank Redemption, where we all learn that, for 19 years, Andy has been patiently chipping away at the walls.

That journey is scary though.

The actual digging through takes a long time. That’s frustrating. We want to get there sooner.

The “escape” is nasty. Crawling through 500 meters of sewage.

And the “liberation” isn’t immediate. You still have to go to every bank in town (assuming you’ve done all the prep work during the previous 19 years to lay that foundation) and then escape across the border to Mexico.

That may not even be the scariest part.

The scariest part is the doing it every single day, little by little, the long hours, the removal of the debris out into the courtyard.

The fear of getting caught. The uncertainty of knowing if you’ll ever make it or not and what you might find if you do, whatever that looks like.

I know I feel the frustration sitting like a weight on my shoulders. The fear is a pit in my stomach.

And I get sad when I think about how much work I still have to do.

But, “be like water” says Bruce Lee.

“Be like Andy.”

In yoga, they talk of the “journey of the self through the self to the self.”

The Buddhists talk of the “face before you were born.”

I imagine that all of us have layers upon layers of concentric concrete walls that surround our “true selves” or our “faces before we were born.”

A part of our lives is having these layers installed. By our parents and families of origin. By society. By the things that influence us along the way.

Each wall adds to what we think of as “identity.”

But each wall also removes us from what may really be “identity.”

At some point, we may realize that it’s not about adding more layers.

Instead, it’s about turning around and starting to bore through all of those layers of concrete, back to wherever it is we started from.

Kind of like the “big reveal” realization scene in Shawshank Redemption, where we all learn that, for 19 years, Andy has been patiently chipping away at the walls.

That journey is scary though.

The actual digging through takes a long time. That’s frustrating. We want to get there sooner.

The “escape” is nasty. Crawling through 500 meters of sewage.

And the “liberation” isn’t immediate. You still have to go to every bank in town (assuming you’ve done all the prep work during the previous 19 years to lay that foundation) and then escape across the border to Mexico.

That may not even be the scariest part.

The scariest part is the doing it every single day, little by little, the long hours, the removal of the debris out into the courtyard.

The fear of getting caught. The uncertainty of knowing if you’ll ever make it or not and what you might find if you do, whatever that looks like.

I know I feel the frustration sitting like a weight on my shoulders. The fear is a pit in my stomach.

And I get sad when I think about how much work I still have to do.

But, “be like water” says Bruce Lee.

“Be like Andy.”