It’s as though my personhood, my spirit, my soul, is this intricate tapestry that has a detailed and strong central circle, a centerpiece with spires reaching outward, wildflowers growing from it, and ripples emanating outward. This strong central space slowly spreads out to frayed edges, like the threads on the ends of a throw rug. My frayed ends are electrified, reaching anxiously, pulsating outward, looking for a new connective thread to weave the next layer, rippling away from it’s core.
This feeling is strange and frustrating. This reaching and pulling away from center. This searching for something outside of myself.
I must remember that all I need I already have.
I must remember that I need the struggle to grow, to create, to become.