A small station

Who am I? This is the question we ask ourselves countless times, from birth to death. While the question is always present, the answer is often difficult to uncover. Who am I? While there is only one question, the answer is ever-changing. Who am I? While the question has existed, the answer repeatedly appears and disappears.

The philosopher Leibniz once described us and all beings as “folds” within existence, meaning that infinitely diverse images within us are layered on top of one another. If this is true, then there cannot be just one definitive answer to the question, “Who am I?” The answer may be found in the reflection staring back at you in the mirror or within your imagination or mind. Indeed, all of the different versions of ourselves that we have embraced over time have gathered together to form the person we are today.

Perhaps, there is a version of myself that I don’t know, hidden away in secret corners of my being, yet already familiar. In the same way that the poet Han Seong-gi dreamed of a version of himself not defined as a poet, father, husband, or even as a human, but as a “small station.” The tranquil landscapes in the poem are not real. They exist in his soul. The small station in the poem does not depict any actual station, but rather an expression of a hidden aspect of himself. How fulfilling would it be to live with such a deep understanding of oneself? It may be that people become poets in order to explore the countless versions of themselves that exist within.