“Who am I? How did I get here from there?”
You want to see the shape of your life from the outside. Like a snail crawling out of its shell to see what it has made of its life and how that life has moulded its flesh.
You want to take this life off and stand naked wearing only the face you had before you were born.
“Who is this creature I call myself?” you say.
“What makes this patch of humanity tick?”