You speak your native language. It is organized in certain ways: the grammar with its subject, verb and object in a certain order; different levels of politeness; and your culture mirrored in this structure as well as in idiom and metaphor. You express yourself in terms of it; you came to yourself through it; in effect, you are it. When you learn another language, you learn a different way to organize reality. When you grow fluent in this new language, you can say and even do things in ways you could not previously; certain new aspects are highlighted, and some things that you originally could more precisely formulate are now missing. Now you express yourself in terms of a different reality, maybe with the verb at the very end of the sentence, maybe with a new sensitivity to season and color; you are different.
As well, it is so with the roles you play in life – child, parent, friend, co-worker, lover: you freely shift from one to another in response to circumstances.
And it is so with anger, joy, hurt, awe, yes, with all the shifts of feeling intertwining language and role.
Who are you? Aren’t you the one who fully manifests each occasion of language, role and feeling?
Aren’t you the nameless, unfettered one who is free to embody this on one occasion and that on another?
Aren’t you the very process of endless, boundless transformation itself?