Stangers

"We are not strangers to ourselves, we just pretend to be."

A line from the book "Odd Thomas." Ok, so I know it is not the most scholarly book, it is one of my airport books I picked up for the holiday travels.

That line really struck me. Do we really know who we are?

Sometimes I think, Yeah, in those rare moments of quietness and stillness when the reflection kicks in we really do. I've had those moments in which I think about who I am, really, and ponder the things that I think I take for granted. It is in those moments that I think that I am closest to God because I always come to the conclusion that I can't do it alone, I need people and I need God, that this is a big, lonely universe otherwise.

And then there are times when I think we're always delusional, where perception is reality and most people's perceptions are shaped by some pretty strange stuff. Does he really think that about himself? Does she really not see what she is doing when she acts that way? I ask those questions not only looking out at these strange human creatures around me, but also when I look in the mirror.

Self reflection is a strange gift. I suppose I have to throw it in the "gift" category because it does provide the potential for improving. Potential.

So what do you think? Do we really know ourselves, and pretend otherwise because what we see is not a beautiful painting (maybe more like a monkey with a paintbrush)?