I feel a pressure
bearing down on me.
Pressure to classify myself,
to help others understand
my offer to the world.

Go,
find answers
quickly.

Identify the right box,
then climb inside.

Inside,
it is dark.
Sides close in;
I crouch, contorted.

I resist being contained,
constrained,
in a box.

It's not really my box.
Someone else decided
a box is needed.

Travelling, in motion.
I want to enjoy the journey.

I step outside.

I breathe fresh air.

Breaking convention,
going against prevailing wisdom
is scary, exposing.

And yet...

This is freedom.

Having courage
to connect with and trust
my instincts.

I am exploring,
discovering opportunities,
going where energy takes me.

I choose which paths to follow
as they emerge in front of me.

I clear a new path
through the foliage.

Blog image: Algar do Carvao, Terceira, Azores photo taken by Anna Whitehead

Poem originally published in May 2021. Updated in May 2024.

• Finding fulfilment