Who Am I?

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I wish I could write about the Michael Cho who stars in my Walter Mitty-like fantasies. If only my personal statement could consist of my name followed by such terms as Olympic athlete, master chef, boy genius, universal best friend, and Prince Charming to every hopeful woman. These claims would be, at worst, outright lies, or at best, gross hyperbole. My dreams, however, take their place alongside my memories, experiences, and genes in the palette that constitutes who I am. Who am I? I am a product of my reality and my imagination. I am innately depraved, yet I am made perfect. I plan my day with the knowledge that “Everything is meaningless” (Ecclesiastes 1:2), but I must “make the most of every opportunity” (Colossians 4:5). I search for simple answers, but find only complex questions. Once, on my way to a wrestling tournament whether living in an abode which rotated near the speed of light would result in my being younger (utilizing the Theory of Relativity) and stronger (utilizing the properties of adaptation along with the definition of centripetal and gravitational force) that I failed to realize that I had left my wrestling shoes in my locker. My mother says that my decision to wrestle is indicative of the fact I don’t think. Through working in a nursing home, the most important lesson I’ve learned is that I have many lessons yet to learn. Thus the most valuable knowledge I possess reminds me how little knowledge I have. Often times people make the mistake of assuming that mutually exclusive qualities bear no relationship to one another. Not so! These dichotomies continuously redefine each other. In some cases one is totally dependent on the other’s existence. What is faith without doubt? Without one, the other does not exit. When juxtaposed, opposites create a dialectic utterly more profound and beautiful than its parts. Walt Whitman embraces this syncretism by stating, “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain...
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