Why are we so quick to embrace the worst about ourselves? Where does it say that who we are at our worst is a more valid who I am than who we are at our best? Aren't we more often somewhere in between? Why is it that when I do something truly good or self-sacrificing, I brush it off as an anomaly, but when I lose my temper and yell at someone, I wallow in how horrible I am for days?
I've been rolling around this idea of identity for the last week or so. Is who I am defined by what I do? I balk at saying a child is "bad" simply because they misbehaved. But I think most would agree that Pol Pot or Stalin or Hitler were bad, if not downright evil. Obviously these are two sides of the extreme. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle.
I think the relationship is more complicated than a simple one-to-one correlation between being and doing. Intent has to weigh in there somewhere, too. Isn't intent the whole distinction between manslaughter and murder one? The outcome is the same no matter what you call it: someone is still dead. But in the eyes of the law, why you killed them is just as important as the fact that you did.
There's no denying that what you do impacts who you are, but I don't think it defines you. I'm not sure exactly what it is that does define you, but I'm sure it's not as simple as one aspect of life.
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