The Process of Becoming

“Who am I? Well, I don’t know whether I’m the same person I was last night. I don’t think I am. Certainly I’m not the same person that I was three weeks ago…we’re all in the process of becoming.” - David Leser

I recently had the privilege of viewing a profile writing workshop, presented by award-winning writer and journalist David Leser.

The workshop was recorded at the Australian Writers’ Centre a few years ago now, but the processes and themes Leser discusses are just as relevant today, and I found myself more inspired than I have been in a very long time.

One of the most interesting conversations was around the notion that events in our life, big and small, are constantly shaping and changing who we are as people.

Three weeks before the workshop, Leser’s father had died. Losing the man he describes as his “principal champion” changed “everything.”

Though a less significant event, I’ve recently taken time away from teaching — a career that consumed my life and greatly formed my sense of identity for nearly a decade.

Who am I now? I’m not so sure.

I’ll admit I am enjoying the change. I’m re-discovering things I enjoy, finally doing things that are just for me, and letting one thing lead to the next. 

But the uncertainty and insecurity of not knowing what’s ahead hasn’t sat well with my sensible side. By my mid-thirties I should be settled. Currently, I have no idea what next month looks like, let alone the next few years.

Then this morning, a friend sent me an article about the benefits of a career gap year — taking time off work, mid-career — to re-energise, expand knowledge, and experience new things. It occurred to him that although I hadn’t given it a name, I was doing exactly this. 

According to the article, taking a career gap year is not only an acceptable thing to do, career experts recommend it.

Now, all sides of me are reassured.

It turns out that something seemingly unremarkable, like reading an article, can change us — even if only in subtle ways.

If humans are constantly in a state of flux, what does this mean for the work of a profile writer aiming to uncover and capture who someone really is? 

As writers, “you have to hold that sense of unease with what the truth is,” says Leser. “Hold the idea that nothing is fixed.”

And yet, in the very act of writing about someone, writers are fixing their subjects in print and time forever. “You freeze-frame them,” says Leser. “That’s a pretty big thing to do to someone.”

It’s a difficult balance — but the key for writers is to ensure that whatever is written doesn’t interfere with the subject’s natural process of becoming. Leser says it’s crucial, “that the person you’re writing about has the opportunity to become who they’re going to become.”

Perhaps it’s best for profile writers, or anyone who is curious about other people, not to ask ‘who?’ but ‘why?’. Why do people do what they do?

Asking why allows us to appreciate that people and their stories are far more complex, and fascinating, than we could ever imagine. Even more importantly, it gives us the opportunity to understand and in turn be more accepting of others.

As for our own stories — something over which we all have a considerable degree of control — it’s somewhat comforting, even mystical, to think that we will become who we are meant to become.

I don’t know who I will be next week. I most definitely do not know who I will be in six months’ time. And perhaps it doesn’t matter. The challenge is to learn to be at peace with this, and with all of the unknowns that come in-between.