The Person You Keep Becoming
His name is Koby, and to be honest, he's not much different than you and me.
He has dreams. He has goals. He has ambition. He wants to make changes in his life..
But the only thing getting in the way of those things is... well, him.
Seem familiar?
Recently, I decided that I was going to start re-watching one of my favorite shows, One Piece, from the very beginning.
Mind you, that's 1,160 episodes and counting... because the show is still running.
What could make me do something like this again?
The art of storytelling.
The desire to learn, and to really pay attention to the millions of stories being told at the same time.
In the second episode, we're introduced to a young boy named Koby.
He's scared of everything. He's afraid to let those in authority down, and he's afraid to make a decision on his own. The show actually goes as far as describing him as a coward.
After a brief encounter with the main character, Luffy, Koby is inspired by Luffy's bravery and confidence.
This might be the first time he's ever met someone whose ideals and values directly challenge his own. Luffy isn't afraid of the unknown because his drive to chase after his dreams is bigger than his fear of falling short.
This stirs something within Koby, and he begins to speak with an authority and assurance that maybe he, too, can reach the heights he's dreamed of. That he could go places nobody thought he could. That he could become someone of value. Someone of importance.
Anyway, five minutes later, after being motivated to take on the whole world, he falls short.
In the face of danger—and the very things he was determined to overcome—he retreats.
He finds himself in a stressful situation where he feels less than. A situation where he feels incapable of making a difference or having an impact.
And suddenly, all his fears are on display.
The Koby of old becomes the Koby of now.
Seem familiar?
Instead of walking into this new way of living that he's learned from Luffy, the path he's travelled the longest comes back to life.
It becomes his place of safety and refuge, even though he knows it'll only keep him in the same place he's always been.
Koby has lived this way for so long that bondage begins to make freedom look like bondage.
The very thing we're so motivated to get away from can so often become the only thing we trust in the face of adversity.
The thing that consoles us and tells us everything will be okay is often the very thing that keeps us from being okay.
Sometimes the easiest prisons to stay in are the ones decorated with our most nostalgic memories, whether traumatic or celebratory.
So how does it end?
Does he become macho? Strong? Confident? A blazing fire of a kid?
No.
At least not right away.
But over the course of a thousand episodes.
Within that time, he doesn't change because he gets older.
He changes because he begins to walk a journey that requires him to choose a door at every junction—some big and some small.
One door asks him to choose what has brought him this far.
The other asks whether he's willing to choose something different, with the possibility of a greater tomorrow.
Who would've thought that the little coward from episode two would become someone so significant and strong by episode 1160?
Not me.
His ever-growing identity as a person willing to fight for justice wasn't something that was simply gifted to him.
He chose to fight against the very ideas that had always kept him safe.
Koby is just like your favourite characters.
They're all faced with opportunities to become different.
They're all invited to change.
However, the truth is they don't become someone new.
They become the person they were always created to be.