I walked into the Apple Store to buy a new laptop. With my recent job transition, I turned in my work computer and needed a replacement.
I’m a Mac fan but don’t actually know much about computers. If my laptop can quickly and reliably let me email, do word processing and get me to Netflix, I’m pretty much good to go. I don’t really care about the tech jargon.
That said, my recent purchase got me thinking more than usual about how computers operate. Even with my limited understanding, I know that there are basically two levels to a computer – what I see and interact with on the screen (the software programs) and the unseen inner workings that allows my programs to function (the operating system or OS). While I jump around from one application to the next, from Outlook, to Word, to Safari, my laptop’s operating system (macOS Sierra version 10.12.6 for those who are dying to know) is the real core of it all, the invisible heartbeat of the whole machine.
I think we’re a lot like computers. We all have a variety of surface level “applications” to our lives. Like software programs, these are the things that we and others can easily see – our careers, accomplishments, talents, relationships, etc. An engineer. A college graduate. An artist. A parent. A spouse.
These are all good and helpful labels. The problem comes when we base our identity on them. Why? Because they are all changeable. We lose our job or retire. Our accomplishments are a distant memory. Our talents fade from lack of use or are lost to injury. Friends leave town. Our spouse passes away. Our kids move out. If these are the things we base our identity on, who are we when they change?
What if instead we based our identity on our Operating System? On our True Self, who we are deep inside, that part of us that doesn’t change no matter what label we wear? For me, that’s a person created, known and loved by God. That identity is secure. It provides a strong foundation, giving me a sense of assurance and peace that, no matter what changes life throws my way, I know who I am.
What about you? Maybe God isn’t your thing. That’s okay. This question of true identity is the same for all of us. When you dig deeper, beneath the various roles you play, what do you find? What’s your unchanging OS, your True Self, that foundational identity you can always depend on? Find that and you’re on your way to Becoming Yourself.
My wife Lisa and I are recent empty nesters. We’re in our late 40s and live near Phoenix, AZ. Our son Kilian graduated college last year and is living on his own as a graphic designer in California. Our daughter Kennedy is a senior in college in Pittsburgh with plans to move to New York City after graduation to continue her acting career. For years Lisa and I have dreamed of pursuing our love of travel once the kids were on their own. Now that they are, and thanks to Lisa’s job as a successful 
But, until recently, something was holding us back – my job. As a music pastor on staff at a church, something I’ve done for 25 years, I needed to be in town most of the time for meetings, rehearsals and weekend services. That made the kind of travel we wanted to do impossible. I also had a growing itch, what I would even say was a sense of calling from God, to pursue writing, something I’ve had a passion for since I was a kid but never chased after. My job, in that form, was preventing us from pursuing those dreams. I knew that but I couldn’t let it go.
I was pinned and I knew it. So I did what any mature, intellectually honest adult would do: I backpedalled. I rationalized. I made excuses. She patiently listened to me for an hour as I threw up my meager defenses and slogged through my conflicted feelings. Then I finally got clarity on my hesitation to do this thing we’ve both dreamed of for so long – I was afraid of letting go. I said I was afraid of the financial impact (reality – thanks to her career, we had the margin). I said I was afraid of not doing meaningful work (reality – I could still do music for the church at a reduced rate and start writing). I said I was afraid of losing the relationships I had with the people I work with (reality – I could still see those friends on the weekends and attend meetings when I chose to). But really it came down to me being afraid of letting go. Of letting go of something that had been meaningful, comfortable and a big part of my identity for so long.
After that conversation, and a little more processing and prayer, I went in and spoke to my boss. I explained where I was at and what I wanted to do – move from a staff role to an independent contractor, cut the number of weekends per year I was on stage in half and no longer attend meetings. He could not have been more understanding and supportive. He said he could make it work. I walked out of that meeting feeling like an elephant had stopped hitching a ride on my shoulders. I was unbelievably excited about the future and the question that kept blazing through my mind was “Why I did I wait so long to let go?”
So I’m on a new adventure. With the time I’ve saved since my job status change this past July, I’ve started this blog and am working on a novel. As I write this, Lisa and I are sitting in an Airbnb in California on a three week trip to visit our son, escape the Phoenix heat and write. I am LOVING my new life!
Something about the ad caught my attention. Normally I fast-forward or mute TV commercials but not this one. It was for an app called LetGo. Its purpose isn’t unique – to help me sell my stuff – but its focus set it apart.
Motivated by that clever marketing campaign, I started cleaning. First a downstairs closet. Then a game cupboard. Then our master closet. Finally the garage. Item after item, box after box, I sorted, using a tip I read in an