The Quiet Power of “I Am”

Have you noticed how easily we say things like, “I’m bored” or “I’m anxious” or “I’m frustrated”?

It sounds harmless enough. But it points to a subtle mix-up.

You can feel bored.
You can feel anxious.
You can feel frustrated.

But you aren’t those things.

Feelings move. They change. They come and go depending on mood, circumstances and the quality of our thinking in the moment. And yet, you remain remarkably consistent through all of it.

Who you are doesn’t fluctuate with how you feel.

When we say “I am anxious,” it can sound as though anxiety is part of our identity — something fixed, something personal. And when we take a feeling and turn it into a description of who we are, it tends to linger. Not because it’s true, but because attention gives it weight.

It’s not that we’re doing anything wrong. It’s just that identification keeps experience feeling solid.

There’s a gentler way to look at it.

“I feel anxious.”
“I feel tired.”
“I feel unsettled.”

Nothing has to change in order to say that. But something often does.

The feeling is allowed to be what it is — a temporary experience — rather than something you have to manage or explain or defend. And in that space, it can move on when it’s ready.

You don’t need to practise this or monitor your language. Just notice the difference when it happens naturally.

We feel things.
We experience moods.
We have passing states of mind.

And underneath all of that, you remain yourself — unchanged, capable and intact.

Everything else is just weather.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash