You Become What You Think You Are.
Dylan’s metal band was headlining at a very loud venue on a rowdy Friday night. It was 67 degrees after sunset, and the outdoor space was hopping. Twentysomethings danced and sang and bounced around in a blob, stopping only when the bands stopped playing.
I found Dylan running the sound board, melded into the scene. Both of us were wearing our musician-inspired, very expensive ear plugs and talking was at a premium.
Between bands, we stood up near the side wall, away from the crazed fans. People kept bopping up to Dylan, who leaned down to hear whatever they yelled into his ear. Then he yelled something back and they bopped away.
As the only old lady on the premises, I suddenly realized that I might be intruding on Dylan’s time.
“You can go hang out with your friends,” I yelled into his ear, quite sincerely. “You’ve hung out with me long enough.”
“I’m okay,” he yelled back. “I’m right where I want to be.”
This sentiment warmed my heart. In fact, it is still warming my heart more than a week later.
Dylan – who is nearly a full foot taller than me – stood overlooking the people, listening, watching. He was in his element – content, confident. I watched him with pride and a touch of envy, but mostly with an intense recognition that he’d grown into a fine young man.
I tapped Dylan’s shoulder, begging him down to my level so I could yell into his ear again. “You have a lot of friends here,” I said. “All these people seem to know you.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I guess.” He stared for a minute into the distance, then leaned down again. “It happened when I made the decision to stop beating myself up. I guess people like positivity.”
I smiled and nodded, unable to respond over the music. He was quiet for a full minute, watching the band and the people.
Then he leaned down and told me something that most people don’t learn. Ever.
“You become what you think you are,” Dylan said.
Then he went back to supervising the night. I stood awestruck and amazed. The band finished, and Dylan’s band got up on stage. I watched the entire performance, practically hovering above the scene I was so far removed, yet I was completely immersed.
I thought about what he said the next day. I love that he has such wisdom, that it’s helped him.
But I thought about what he said the day after that, too. And the next day. In fact, I kept thinking about it to the point of, possibly, slight obsession.
One day I randomly thought, as I often do: I am a fat old lady.
And then I heard Dylan’s voice again: You become what you think you are.
I don’t know if I will suddenly stop being a fat old lady, but I can say this: I might (and I do mean might, because I’m not sure I have the wisdom to carry this to fruition) – I might stop thinking of myself as a fat old lady.
I might instead start recognizing and appreciating the soul that resides inside this aging body.
I might start thinking of myself in a different way, a different light, so that I can become something more than just the exterior piece of myself, a piece that’s been letting me down for decades. I might become something more substantial, because I might think of myself as something more substantial.
You become what you think you are.
I don’t know if I can do it, but I can try.