my becoming...

But there is no betrayal which is not a repudiation of fidelity. Is there, then, such a thing as a basic fidelity, a primal bond, which I break every time I make a vow which in the least degree concerns what I vaguely call my soul? (Obviously there is no question here of vows about mere matters of the most outward and socialized activity, where I am as it were using a tool ready to my hand.) This primal bond can only be what some people have taught me to call fidelity to myself. Myself, they will say, is what I betray when I so bind myself. Myself: not my being but my becoming; not what I am today but what I shall perhaps be tomorrow.

          – from Being and Having: An Existentialist Diary
                     by Gabriel Marcel

                           (Trans. Katherine Farrer)

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