It’s my birthday. I am 42 years old.
One should try to dispel the fear of people that they ARE their cultural identity.
Isn’t cultural identity something we learn and wear like clothes, something that changes when we move to another country or visit other cultures? Don’t we adapt our sense of cultural identity to the location and time we live in? Rather than something cast in stone isn’t it a personal, a flexible skin we wear and shed from time to time like a snake? When we are kids we adopt our family’s cultural identity. As teenagers we rebel against that identity and begin to create our own. As we age we keep adapting and changing that identity until we die. Some people seem to grow old or die exactly because they refuse to change/grow/learn……
Restless the mind is……
Truly I think
The wind is no wilder
– from the Bhagavad Gita