Me. The Definition of.

Many of us have something we constantly think about, something we always get back to.

Meaning of my life and my work is something I always come back to. I used to think that my current job was absolutely devoid of any substance, something that can be filled by anyone.

Well, I guess that is true. If I were to be gone tomorrow, there will surely be someone who'll step up to my plate and play the role I am playing right now.

With this thought, I kept thinking about what kind of job, what kind of life will suit me. What kind of life will I fill purposeful in?

Gadgets.
All those awe-inspiring, glittering, and wow-ing technology devices that
always keeps reinventing themselves. Yes--I thought. If I were working in that industry, I'd be the center of today's world, spinning crazily, trying to out-do competitors.

But then, as I've said before somewhere on this blog, I was already tired of gadgets. They are pretty much on a linear path, growing faster and faster, better and better. Our phone will become more and more useful, our computers smarter and faster, our cars more efficient and safer. Really, there isn't anything that's really, truly meaningful here. This portion of world is built like a working machine, that does what it's supposed to do.

Then how about my own job?
My job involves supporting the development of much more bigger, more expensive, and more grandiose technological object--weapons. Or more precisely, weapons delivery systems. My job--although very, very indirectly speaking--actually involves in saving--and, unfortunately, killing--human lives.

Hmm, sure it looks more meaningful.
I mean, it involves some of the most advanced technologies available to us at the time. Government is directly involved in this, and the fruit of my work is directly involved in one important aspect that's been with humanity's history--warfare.

But then again, war is war. Humans have been fighting war as long as it's existed. Again, there isn't anything truly new here.

Now, I've made a full circle--or more like several ones--and I'm back in the same place. Left with no substance. Nothing to define myself with.

So, my thought goes on.

Maybe I was looking for myself in wrong places.
Maybe, my job isn't me. Maybe this world doesn't define me.

Then, what does?

Well, gee, I don't know. Mankind's greatest minds haven't been able to answer it, and surely, I can't, either.

But there is one sure thing:

I, myself define myself.
The world around me can be whatever shape it wants to be. You can tell me who I am, or what I am. But those things don't do anything for me. At least as long as I don't let them define me.

Sure, some people can let their job define them, their position in society to define them, or the size of number on their bank statement define them.

And as you can see, I refuse to do that to myself.
It's... just not me.

There isn't anything in this world that defines me.

I am me.
The soul I have,
the soul that controls my body, my brain, and my heart..
it defines me.

And I'm finally letting go of my ego,
and letting a bigger hand take care of my soul.

What am I?

I am what He let's me be.