Who am I
without the executive job,
the expensive car, without the concerts
and plays and ballets where others
can see me in places that give me status,
without the house with the five bedrooms
and the landscaped yard I work hard to own
but have no time to enjoy?
Who am I
if I give up the cruises and the exotic trips
to hotels with beaches, swimming pools,
servants, margaritas, and good weather,
neglecting to know the people whose
ancestors worked those lands,
if I give up the fancy restaurants,
if I give up the social media, stop posting
things that support my façade of positivity
when I really want to scream for help?
Who am I
if I decide I don’t care what strangers
and false friends think of me,
if I simplify things, lose or give up
my possessions, the excessive socializing,
the alcohol and weed, the work I don’t enjoy,
instead, make my own meals, tend my own garden,
follow my curiosity, walk along forest paths,
focus on virtue?
Who am I then?
