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Who am I?

Updated: Dec 30, 2021


This question will certainly open a void, an interval.

If fear prevails, we will step back and do not want to enter the abyss.

But that emptiness will come back sooner or later, calling us back to itself.

That call comes from within, it is the deepest part of us.


If we don't listen to it, we cut ourselves off from our life.


Loredana Denicola
Who am I?


Many people wonder - who am I? - in a time of crisis.

Strangely, these are the best times when there is a very good chance of opening up to 'know yourself' beyond what we have believed or perceived about us up to that moment.


What is a crisis?


Crisis means rupture, and what comes to shatter is an image of oneself, which had supported us up to that moment.

Therefore we feel displaced and we suffer emotionally.

But this is a good opportunity to ask ourselves: "Who am I?"

Seeing a part of us disappear before our eyes will help us understand ourselves better. We are beyond that identity that we had built for ourselves, we acquire a greater awareness of our being.


We all consciously or unconsciously aspire to be someone.


We admire those who have courage, who fight for their ideas, those who stand out for some reason, showing their creative ingenuity and going against the tide. We would like to be like that too, but what price are we willing to pay? What are we willing to face with ourselves?

Those who achieve something significant, those who self-realize, those who make a difference in the world, have witnessed something original.


Original is something that has to do with our origin: the value of all great works is the direct connection with the origin from which they come: the individual who created them. They show uniqueness, contact with the divine. How unique and divine is their creator, in his essential identity.

We all want to be original creators, but we are so busy being "normal" that we invest our energies in staying within the norm.

And then we complain that our life is flat and that we are bored, and we don't know what to do with ourselves: we don't necessarily seek adventure, even when we apparently boast of being nonconformists!


The price to pay for being someone is the acceptance of being completely ourselves, with all that that entails. But 'to be ourselves' we have to know ourselves. And we can't really know ourselves if we don't know who we are.


So again the question - who am I?


The price to pay for being someone is to be emotionally alone.

It is not loneliness, it is the beginning of true love.

It is giving up those emotions that bind us to false identities, to the false image that we are ready to show on several occasions.

Both positive and negative emotions, which we normally mistake for ourselves, but are not who we are.That energy that we waste in those emotions can flow into the creative project, into self-realization.

It is energy we need to give life to ourselves.

It is dying to that world of conformist relationships that keep us trapped in projection patterns for which we are constantly pushed to play a part.


Again the question - Who am I? - which does not leave us alone.

Once we know who we are, we recognize ourselves.

We begin to recognize our true nature, we respect it, we follow it.

We no longer need the recognition of others, we no longer seek outside of ourselves what we are unable to give to ourselves.


Who am I?


.... is the only question worth asking in life, digging into yourself with all your strength, but it is not an easy job to do alone as it requires direct contact with yourself.


I discovered myself through photography.

I touched my shit in every sense.

I know I still have so much to discover. But now I'm more serene.

Photography gave me the opportunity to open up to new worlds.

The photographs I took of strangers allowed me to observe myself through images and conversations. As 'observer' of myself, I saw myself desperate, lost, looking for love, courage, acceptance.


I was afraid of fear. I don't want this to happen anymore - I said to myself.


In the middle of the night I had panic attacks.

I was in need to talk to someone.

Only to bring attention to something real, to the present moment to confuse my mind. She made me believe I was going to die.

Those false thoughts, created by a worried mind, ran after me without ever stopping and deceived me.

They told me things that didn't exist and I poured them out of myself, into the surrounding reality, turning it into a nightmare.

I couldn't see the truth, I couldn't look at my mind, I couldn't see the pain that belonged to me apart from myself.