Observations on the Passage of Time, Identity, and Memories

I’m in the process of writing a memoir that raises awareness of how the flow of time impacts your identity and perception of life. The book covers the first three decades (I’m now approaching 45).

Identity

It doesn’t change. This is a surprising realization. Say, I think back to my teen years. Obviously, I experienced a lot in the decades that followed — I now have a family with four grown-up kids, I have new skills and hobbies, I have scars and unfulfilled dreams; I made huge geographic moves, changing home many times. You’d think collectively these experiences would make a very different individual. Yet I am not. There is something important in my overall self-awareness, in my “I” that hasn’t changed at all despite journeying through life. I think the same and I feel the same. I do not think of my sixteen-year-old self as a child, young, naive and inexperienced. What I had then in my mind and soul, I have now. I will probably die with the same sense of identity. I AM, irrespective of time and space.

Cultural identity

I spent my childhood in Russia, my formative teenage years away from it, and then years traveling back and forth before eventually settling in the United States at the age of 33. In total, I’ve spent 22 years away from Russia — half my life.

Naturally, I identify as Russian — based on where I was born, where I grew up, and the language I speak. But my identity is so…