Dear God, I am so afraid to open my clenched fists! Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to? Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands? Please help me to gradually open my hands and to discover that I am not what I own, but what you want to give me. And what you want to give me is love—unconditional, everlasting love. Amen.
Henri Nouwen (professor, author, theologian, 1932-1996)
Regardless of where we place ourselves on the spiritual spectrum, I believe this quote has something to teach us about identity.
There was a reason Henri Nouwen prayed those words so fervently. After nearly twenty years as a professor at Notre Dame, Yale and Harvard, Henri walked away from his lauded position in academia to work with mentally and developmentally challenged adults. His choice to step out of the spotlight forced him to wrestle with his true sense of identity.
I can relate to that struggle. I went through a similar, though far less noble, transition in my own life which led me to the same place (I wrote about that story here). With that in mind, three lessons stand out to me from Henri’s words:
1. We have a natural tendency to base our identity on things outside ourselves. A title. A position. A career. Money. A relationship. A talent. We clutch them in tight fists, fearful that if they slip away, as Henri asked, who will we be when we stand with empty hands? If I’m no longer a parent, a teacher, a musician, a business owner, a spouse, a ‘fill-in-the-blank’, then who am I?
2. This tendency is a barrier to our growth, hindering us from experiencing the life we truly desire. When we base our identity, consciously or unconsciously, on temporary, fragile things, we often live with a continual low-grade anxiety over losing them. It erodes our sense of peace, contentment, and security, and can lead to unhealthy levels of attachment. We’ve all seen examples of parents whose entire lives revolve around their child, to the detriment of both. Workaholics who live for climbing that next rung on the ladder of success. Even volunteers who, with false modesty, base their identity on the recognition they receive for their service to others. When we take what is meant to be a good segment of our lives and make it the foundation of our identity, we’re in trouble. We’re asking these things to carry a load they were never meant to bear.
3. When we courageously choose to open our hands and let go, we can find freedom, security and deep contentment. Naming and releasing things we’ve used to prop up our ego for years is not easy. But when replaced by something better, the process can yield amazing results. The source of those positive benefits depends on what you believe and where you choose to anchor yourself. Like Henri did, I find my deepest identity in being God’s child and in God’s unconditional love for me. For you, it may be in yourself or in a relationship or in the harmony of the Universe or in something else. Whatever your “it” is, make sure it’s something secure, unshakable, and worthy of being the foundation of your life.
So how about you? Have you gone through a crisis of identity? Are you in one now? Be honest about what you may be holding too tightly. Search sincerely for something you can truly believe in. Let go of life’s fragile things and trust that your secure foundation will catch you. If you do, you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.