This year it’s pretty simple: Who am I? More importantly, am I a bad person? I have tried to convince myself either way. The judgement about that is beyond my control. God has His view and everyone else has theirs. My view doesn’t matter. One’s “goodness” or “badness” is determined outside of oneself, and therefore, according to Epictetus, is irrelevant. Who cares? But we are social creatures. I can survive alone, but can I thrive? Does that even matter? I don’t think people would call me a “good person.” That bothers me. Why do I deserve the designation, “bad person?”