Home - getting to the heart of it

The notion of ‘home’ has always fascinated me. I believe it means different things to different people but recently I’ve become a little fixated with getting to the core of what it means for me, right now, at this point in my life.

I’m currently living in my 28th residence. At least, I’m living in the 28th place that I remember being settled in for more than 6 months. There may be one or two more that have been lost in the mists of dodgy or protective memory. One might say that I’ve had 28 homes but that doesn’t feel true to me. Some of these places felt like home, some really didn’t. When I consider what’s made the difference, it has little to do with how big or small they were, where they were in the world or how long they sheltered me. I only counted places I spent more than 6 months. It turns out this is not a useful criterion for me. I’ve felt more at home for one day on a beach or a week in a place with nothing but a suitcase than I have in some of the places that I’ve lived for many years. Sometimes it has to do with who I shared the space with but not always. So what is it that defines home?

So far what I know is:

~ It’s not where I come from although that’s indelibly etched in me.
~ It’s not always where I am, despite what other people say about that.
~ It’s definitely a feeling rather than a place but place is part of it. I sometimes feel very out of place and it’s hard to feel at home when that’s true.
~ It isn’t always where my heart is. My heart is spread across the globe with the people I love.
~ It isn’t always about having my own stuff around me but that helps. Even spreading my own sarong on a hotel bed makes it feel more like home.
~ I carry a little bit of all those other times and places I’ve felt at home with me and sometimes where I’m actually living feels closer to that and sometimes it feels quite far from it.
~ All the places I’ve felt at home have one thing in common - it’s where I’ve felt most comfortable being myself. Fully myself. Outwardly, as much as inwardly. I wish I could say that’s everywhere but it isn’t.

I’ve been musing on this for a while and then I came across this beautiful description which comes close to reflecting what it feels like to me (thank you Robyn Gordon for sharing this)

“The desire to go home that is a desire to be whole, to know where you are, to be the point of intersection of all the lines drawn through all the stars, to be the constellation-maker and the center of the world, that center called love. To awaken from sleep, to rest from awakening, to tame the animal, to let the soul go wild, to shelter in darkness and blaze with light, to cease to speak and be perfectly understood.” 

~ Rebecca Solnit

The desire to be whole. That feels true.

♡

Brief journeys - impressions of Toronto

“Before the real city could be seen it had to be imagined, the way rumours and tall tales were a kind of charting.”

Michael Ondaatje, In the Skin of a Lion

~ Peonies and rain showers.
~ Geese. Of the Canadian variety, of course. Bronze and feathered, both.
~ Rest and restoration. Good sleep, warm hospitality, leisurely pace.
~ Walks and chats. Lots of that...
~ Waterfalls and sunlight create magic in the sky.
~ Love, and a wander down memory lane.
~ Iconic skyline.
~ Did I mention the Peonies? Never, ever, seen so many.
~ A beach, a far horizon and a big sky. Some of my favourite things.

♥

True

♥

Four years. The blink of an eye.

Love and Missing

When I was young I didn't understand, but now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird.

Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler's Wife

For the love of painting...

If you hear a voice within you say "you cannot paint", then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.

Vincent van Gogh

She preferred the quiet solitary atmosphere, to create in her own world of paint and colour... How satisfying it was to mess around in paint gear, without having to worry about spills, starch or frills, that was the life!

E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

Writing, painting, singing - it cannot stop everything. Cannot halt death in its tracks. But perhaps it can make the pause between death’s footsteps sound and look and feel beautiful, can make the space of waiting a place where you can linger without as much fear. 

For we are all walking each other to our deaths, and the journey there between footsteps makes up our lives.

Ally Condie

A painting was a translation of the language of my heart.

Amy Tan, Saving Fish from Drowning

If you could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.

Edward Hopper

Paint + Time + Losing myself in it = Bliss

Making space for love

Today is Robert's Birthday and almost three years since we lost him. Impossible to think of that really. They say time heals but I'm not sure I'll ever get used to the space on earth that he no longer inhabits. It will always be just that to me, a space. His space. This photograph is on the pinboard in my kitchen - me and my other siblings on the lagoon beach in our home town. It was taken many years before Rob died and I don't remember why he wasn't there but, whenever I look at it now, I imagine him walking in the space between B and I, in the space that will always be his. 

Today, naturally, he's very much on my mind and I'm trying to focus on the love rather than the loss. Rob knew how to love. He was such a kind, open and loving person and despite hurts that would have left some of us too guarded to go there again, he did. I so admired that about him. 

I intend to crank up the music and spend some time painting today. He drew and painted so beautifully and I wish he could see what I'm doing now with colour and canvas, and how much I'm enjoying it. I think he would have approved. It would've been such fun to paint together, something we never had the chance to do. 

I'm also starting a blog series in honour of making space for love - the things I love, the places I love and, most importantly, the people I love. I'd like to rekindle the pleasure blogging brings me and that I've recently not made space for in the frenzy of work and the daily grind. I have no real plan except that I think it'll run for 42 days... one for each year that Rob lived and loved. 

Happy Birthday Rob! We miss you. Now and always.

K xox

Minding my P's & Q's

Dear Universe,

For all the talk around here about change and the excitement of that, I'm very conscious that there was much in the past year that I loved and would like to carry with me into the new year.

Amongst the best bits, these in particular stand out:

~ Picnics - beach picnics, forest picnics, garden picnics, car picnics, sofa picnics... barefoot picnics are my favourite. 

~ New destinations - near and far, exotic or not. I don't mind. Travel, travel, travel.

~ Time to be - to stare at horizons under big skies and just be - fully present in the moment.

~ Heart to hearts - with special, interesting and passionate people. People with heart. And soul.

~ Creative work - challenging, colourful, meaningful, creative work. LOTS of it!

~ Moments of discovery and wonder... may I never become too jaded to notice them. No matter how brief or tiny.

~ Conversation and companionship - good times with good people and good food is my preferred format.

~ Solitude - not loneliness.

~ Fun - reminders that sometimes it's good to just laugh and play. And opportunities to do so.

~ Sea and sunshine - it was pervasive and it made all the difference.

Thank you for all of these in 2012. Yes please to more in 2013... 

And thank you in advance.

You have heard my deepest heart and responded. I am grateful.

K xox

Looking and leaping

This little guy came to live with me a few years ago. Just after my husband left me. I remember at the time thinking that my emotional and material state was just as precarious.  I felt almost completely untethered and terrified by what the future held. That he was balanced there, on the edge of his little precipice but not falling, was a sign of how close to the edge I was myself. And the fact that I hadn't fallen into the abyss yet either was something to cling to. A sign to just hold on... with my toes if necessary. Not to fall.

Over the years he has come to signify the move away from that state. A steady progress from dangling to standing. I would look at him, perched on top of my fridge, and it would remind me that I was doing okay, compared to that. I liked seeing him there.

Now, I find that he's signalling something slightly different again...

I'm standing on the brink of yet another huge life-shift, this one of my own choosing. And although my state is, again, every bit as precarious, it's strange how different I feel about it this time. Terrified? Yes. Not too strong a statement to say that in those two to four o'clock in the morning hours I'm scared witless. It's risky. It may fail. I may fail. I may fall instead of fly. I have no guarantees, no safety net, and no-one to blame but myself if it all goes horribly wrong. The scaredycat in me is large and loud.

It's too late now to step back though. I am standing with one foot out over the edge and the momentum of actions already taken, carrying me forward into the space. And... I am certain that from this place, where I am now, holding on by my toes is not good enough or the right thing to do. I probably definitely could have done with a bit more time to build my wings but I don't have more time. And if I really want to change my lifestyle, my life, I need to be prepared to let go of solid ground for a while. If I hadn't taken the opportunity now, I might never have carved out the space, gathered the energy or worked up the courage again. I have to leap.

So here I go... I am hoping there'll be some thermal updrafts to help support my initial free-fall, and that the lightness of my heart when I think of what I'm leaving behind will help me float some... Of course I'm going to be making some inflight adjustments and I'll be flapping my wings hard too. I know it will be difficult and I am sure I'll get tired and just want to give up sometimes. But I won't. This little man, poised on the edge, stepping with purpose into the space, will be a reminder to me once more, not to give up. In a different way though.

I've moved him from the fridge into my work space. He sits on the windowsill here and when I look at him now he makes me think not of falling or holding on, but of letting go... of trusting the heart and head combination that has steered me here. Of looking and leaping.

As of the 18th of September 2012 I am, officially, self-employed.


P.S. Just as an aside... the rock he's standing on is a piece from my Home, and yesterday was my lovely Aunt Leila's Birthday. I didn't plan it that way - the date - but after I'd written this, those two things occurred to me and I think that they too are significant. A reminder of my deep and supportive roots and relationships. I tell you... I'm seeing signs everywhere. Supportive, affirmative signs. I know it's my mind filtering the universe for what I want to see. But, at this point, I'm going with it being a good thing.

Fragile

A week ago today my aunt died. A few days before that, we'd been together - sharing dinner and laughter and chatter; talking about books, family, recent holidays and new adventures. She was her usual lovely self - twinkling eyes, slightly naughty giggle and ever-ready snaphappy camera at hand. We made plans to meet again before I fly back to the UK. We hugged, we said good night. We were laughing about gorgeous men in kilts....

And then, three days later, she was gone. No illness, no warning. Just gone.

She was only sixteen years older than I am. A beautiful, warm and vibrant woman, with a lovely, exotic name that suited her so well - Leila Joy. She was like loveglue in our large and extended family - always, always, no matter what happened, or how splintered or far-flung we became, drawing us together and keeping us connected, sharing in our happiest celebrations and saddest times with obvious pleasure and unfailing compassion. There are a million little moments, from my very earliest memories to my most recent, that shine brighter and richer because she is part of them. She loved her family, fast cars, bold colours, entertaining, Schnauzers, dressing up, pretty nail-polish, photographs in frames and albums, facebook, our blogs, OB's sherry and malva pudding... oh, there's a catalogue of things that bring her to mind because she loved them. She loved....

She loved.

And we loved her.

And now she's gone.

And I am reminded, again, how fragile this life we have is. How fragile.

Not to be taken for granted. To be lived fully, richly, with love. Because all too soon, it's gone.

Rob's beach

At the heart of it...

[Wo]Men for the sake of getting a living forget to live. 

Margaret Fuller 

(1810-1850) 

Without work, all life goes rotten. But when work is soulless, life stifles and dies. 

Albert Camus 

(1913-1960)

I have to work. Putting a roof over my head and all that boring stuff pretty much requires it. That's okay, I don't mind. I buy the occasional lottery ticket and dream of how I would spend the jackpot gazillions (a beautiful remote spot at the sea features top of the list), how my life might be different freed from the need to earn a living. Mostly I am happily reconciled to the fact that I will need to work for a wage, for a long time yet. And I enjoy feeling that I am doing something productive and meaningful.

I've talked here about the trials, and perhaps not enough about the amazing satisfaction I get from what I do. Sometimes. Occasionally. Rarely. Yes, now it's rarely. There's a difference between surviving and thriving and although I used to love my work, I've allowed myself to slip into the situation where that satisfaction factor is so reduced as to be almost entirely invisible most days. Growth, which is supposed to be at the centre of what I'm about, and what I'm supposed to be involved in facilitating in others, feels non-existent in my own professional life. Even many of my existing strengths and skills are sitting in a metaphorical box locked up under my desk, seldom exercised. And I'm running so fast to stand still that I seldom have a chance to consider what's missing, or how to change it.

That's why the sabbatical.... It's a privilege to be able to carve out some time to decelerate, reconnect and restore and I'm very conscious that I need to make it count. I intend to use the opportunity to take stock, re-evaluate what's most important to me, excavate my professional passions (which I am sure are still lurking in the depths of me somewhere) and try to turn that all into something that allows me to make a living and live.

I was playing with the camera and an app on my phone and took the photograph above of a spot on my desk, which when I looked at it afterwards summed up a lot of what I think I'm after... opportunity for creativity, variety, a touch of poetry and a lot of heart!

Not too tall an order, is it?

♡

Countdown commences...

When in doubt, choose change.

Lily Leung

Never too old, never too bad, never too late, never too sick to start from scratch once again.

Bikram Choudhury

Remembering you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

Steve Jobs

I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained myself to love it. Because it is only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight, that we force our wings to unravel and alas begin our flight. And as we fly, we still may not know where we are going to. But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings.
You may not know where you’re going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings, the winds will carry you. 

C Joybell C

Six weeks from today my sabbatical begins. Six months (plus) to explore. To rest. To restore. To dream. To create... a new reality.

It's been a long gruelling year since the commitment to do this was made, the opportunity sought and the time granted. My heart is so ready. My head is a bit more nervous. Anything is possible. Anything is a very big space.

It's exhilarating. It's terrifying.

I can't wait.

Brother Love

To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time.

Clara Ortega

I can't believe that my sweet, soulful, intelligent and just all-round lovely littlest brother (although in truth he's hasn't been littler for many years!) is hitting the big four-oh milestone today. He's crammed so much rich growth, so many adventures, such wisdom into his time here it seems impossible that he's had only four short decades to do it in. I admire and am in awe of how he lives his life with integrity and grace.

B, I hope you know how very much I love you and how thankful I am to know you. And how much good and juicy stuff I wish for you as you enter this new decade. Words cannot express it. But I think that's one of the things I most love about you... words aren't always necessary. You just get it. 

Have a great day Brother-mine. Sorry I can't be there. But I'll see you soon and we'll make it another reason to celebrate... 

Love, love, love, 

as ever

K ~x~ ~o~ ~x~

[Photograph of B taken at our sister's wedding last month by the very lovely and talented Tasha Seccombe. She has a skilled and gifted eye for capturing mood and detail and I love this picture.]

When to start?

What seems to us bitter trials are often blessings in disguise.

Oscar Wilde

(1854-1900)

Next Monday, on the 1st of the month, on the 1st of the year, after this anniversary, before that Birthday, after the final session in this series, when the sun shines, when it next rains, when it snows, when the sun shines again, when I finish this book, when the washing's done, when the clock hits 11:11... there's always a reason to wait, another milestone to reach before starting to write here again. Before starting to look out into the world instead of curling in on myself and preserving what little energy I have for breathing.

Today's a pretty big milestone though. The beginning of a new and very important countdown. And so I think this has to be when.

For a long, long time it's felt too hard, too painful, too lonely, too dark, too much, too little, too empty... no words... locked in on myself. I've never been down quite as deep as this before, or for as long. I've never had to kick quite as hard to swim back towards the surface. But the surface feels in reach now.  So, I think this has to be when.

There's always a reason to wait. And then, suddenly, one day, there's no reason at all. Today was that day. So I think this has to be when. 

Just hit publish, Kenda, and you'll have started.... This has to be when.

[ Flickr loveliness credited here]

Out in the cold

All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost;
the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost.

J.R.R. Tolkien

(1892-1973)

There is peace and rest and comfort in sorrow.

Søren Kierkegaard

(1813-1855)

But I'll tell you what hermits realize. If you go off into a far, far forest and get very quiet, you'll come to understand that you're connected with everything.

Alan Watts

(1915-1973)

*♥*

In 2011, I wish for you:

Love. In all its many wonderful forms, given and received;

Laughter. Lots of it, often;

Passion and play, every day;

Dreams fulfilled, dreams rekindled and dreams newborn;
Connection. With yourself and with others of like mind and heart;

The excitement and growth of discovery, balanced by the comfort and constancy
of the familiar;
Adventure. Just enough to keep it interesting;

The warmth of times shared and the sanctuary of solitude;

Things that touch your senses, stir your deepest heart and make you glad to be alive!

Tomorrow I'll explore what I wish for me, through my chosen word for 2011.... In the meantime, I hope your year's already off to a fabulous start and that day one unfolds exactly right.

With love and light, K

*♥*

[a little creative license taken above, with a photograph of this... one of my bookshelf favourites]

Best supersnowmonster ever?

For no reason other than a whim, I walked a slightly different route... and this is what I found, tucked into a quiet corner off the towpath. 

I smiled all the way home.

It reminded me that spontaneous detours are sometimes good for the heart in unexpected ways - I should take them more often - and that superheroes come in many guises.

So, with thoughts of heart-journeys uppermost, I bid 2010, "Goodbye". I won't miss it.

I have high hopes that 2011 and I might travel along a bit more amicably together... and I look forward to seeing you there. Good companions are such a boon. 

Thankfulness, every day - Twenty Two

So here we are, on the brink of the last month of the year.... 

There are a couple of very busy weeks to go yet but I'm hoping then for a gradual winding down and an opportunity to reflect and gather my resources in time to enter the new year, restored.

In the meantime, I am thankful to have come this far - to have made it through to now. I began this year feeling somewhat depleted and, although there have been a few bright spots, overall it has been an even tougher one than the last. Which just goes to show that one can go on long beyond what feels like running on empty. That's a useful lesson and I am thankful for that. 

And thankful too, immeasurably, for those who have been alongside on the often rough journey of this year. For those who in myriad ways have stood by me, silent and supportive, or offering compassionate connection by reaching through and around and beyond the ether to touch their hearts to mine, even when I've had little or nothing to offer in return.

Encouraged by the ever lovely Lisa to contemplate the many, many things for which I am grateful over the course of this past month, I find that I reach the end of a difficult time, a little bit weary but enriched and full of thanks.

That's a good place to be.

Needs expressed

I really wanted to do this... Graciel's idea struck me as a good one. It reminded me of a conversation a very dear friend and I had a few years ago about the first step to manifesting dreams being to give them a voice. And where better to do that than here, in the ether that surrounds our globe?

When I actually started to think about what my signs should be it went from what I thought would be a relatively easy exercise to one that ended up being not as simple. I couldn't seem to get some of them out and I missed posting on the day. Still, the idea stayed with me and, late or not, I wanted to give it a whirl.

Some of the things I need are very clear and apparently easy to give expression to. Some I seldom, if ever, say out loud even in my secret heart, let alone to the world. With some of them I find it almost too painful to admit how important and challenging they are, or to look at them too closely, and so I usually avoid doing so. But, that doesn't make them go away.

So here they are - the headlines. I reflected on what I meant by each a bit more and if you're interested in all the navel gazing, I posted those musings here.

Otherwise, I hope everyone has had a great week and that the weekend is one that allows you to meet at least some of your needs, whatever form they take. Happy Friday mes amis!

♡ K

Passion, sanctuary and a song

I knew fairly early in my career that I was not naturally inclined towards success in a corporate environment. I found that I could function there, even excel if I put my mind to it, and I did quite well. But I did not flourish. There was a fundamental disconnect between my inner world and my outer behaviours. I was not motivated by the things that drive those who are fulfilled in that sphere. My heart was not in it and I was never going to find meaning or satisfaction as long as I stayed and played the game. So I got out. I went into learning and development, which I loved and was passionate about, and after a while I took a leap and worked for myself for several extremely satisfying years. Facilitating the unlocking of someone's potential was and remains the most satisfying thing I can imagine myself doing. Although it was hard work and often uncertain, I was happier than I had ever been. But then, for reasons that required I take on something less unpredictable and challenging for a while, I went back into full-time employment. And I was very clear about what I was and wasn't looking for, and where I might find it.

I wanted to stay in learning and development but the context was important. I worked deliberately to resist taking an easy route back into a corporate space, moving into the voluntary and not-for-profit sector and finding a role within it that allowed me to do what I love, and feel less like a square peg in a round hole. Finding somewhere my skills fitted and I could feel my personal and professional values were more closely aligned with those of the organisation, and where I might feel less like what I wanted (which did not include climbing as high up the management structure as possible as quickly as possible) would be seen as a lack of ambition or aspiration. I took on a role that came with less freedom, lower perceived status, some of the frustrations of working in a organisation that occasionally moves painfully slowly to change, and certainly less financial reward but where I felt that I was making a meaningful and positive difference. I know that this decision was misunderstood by many (some very close to me) but I do not judge this. I do not say one situation is better than another. Just that one was more for me than the other. Integrity is what I was after, and personal and professional alignment is what I believed I had achieved.

Imagine my disappointment then when no more than about a year into this new role I started to feel the discomfort of that square peg situation again. The reasons are quite different this time but now, three years on, the discomfort's not much less acute, in fact more so in some ways. I am not a quitter and I essentially love what I do (and what we do as an organisation) but I am feeling limited and constrained by the scope of this particular role and the frustration associated with that has started to become unbearable. For the past year it has been absolutely suffocating and despite efforts to prevent the slide, I'm as demotivated and dispirited as I've ever felt in my work.

Change is the inevitable solution. I either need to change myself or my situation but what does this change look like for me now? If I can't make this work for me, what do I do next? If I truly don't fit in here anymore, where do I belong?

Honestly, I am not sure.

For the past few days I have been attending an event as part of a leadership programme I'm involved in and through exposure to what this entails, some of my thoughts are becoming woolier and woolier, rather than clearer as I'd hoped they might. But some things remain very clear to me.

I have a good head and it serves me well but I am essentially heart driven. Without love and passion, for me success and fulfilment in the workplace, as in any other area of life, are doubtful or dubious. I believe I still have the vocational love, but the passion needs some life breathed back into it. Without it I can do a good job but I can’t do a great job and I am not prepared to settle for any less for any longer. But I also can't afford to do anything rash and so packing a small bag and running off to live on a beach, tempting as that might be as a short-term solution, is not really an option. So I have to find a way to fall IN love again with what I do and to express that love within the organisation in a way that they can accommodate. If this proves impossible, I probably do need to consider moving on but that would not be my first choice, at least not for a while yet.

In order to do this, to re-ignite the fire, I believe I need to be focussing more time and energy on what I truly care about, spending time in my loved one’s company as it were, with a view to rediscovering the things that drew us together in the first place all those years ago.

Seems straightforward enough, right? Err, apparently not. I seem at a loss as to exactly how to do this, where to start... and none of the ideas that come to mind really move or excite me. Any thoughts most welcome. Truly. It's a long time since I've fallen in love anew with anything, and it seems I've forgotten how.

On a slightly different but not entirely unrelated note, and probably as a result of my current emotional state, which seems to be making everything more charged with significance than ever, two things during my time away this week really struck me:

The first was prompted by a visit to Durham Cathedral, where I encountered the sanctuary knocker in the photograph above. The story goes that in Medieval times anyone, usually criminals and outlaws, who made it to the cathedral doors and reached the knocker would be granted asylum, without question, protected and taken care of and given thirty-seven days to get their affairs in order, even if this meant that they arranged their own exile from the country to escape the ultimate penalty and sentence of law. Not that I am advocating that anyone (especially criminals) be given a free pass but given that some of the crimes these people might be accused of included things like idleness, witchcraft, or being a scold, it seems to me a death sentence was perhaps a bit extreme, and this is often what they were running away from. Something about this idea of being granted virtually unconditional sanctuary really touched me. I think it would be so great if there was a way that we could take a time out like this. An opportunity to stop running and take stock before moving on in a new direction. An opportunity to start afresh.

Secondly, I heard this song by Lily Frost yesterday and when I arrived home last night, I looked it up on YouTube (where I discovered it's the theme song for a TV programme that I'm not familiar with). I listened to the song again and suddenly, in one of those weird, uncontrolled and spluttery moments, I just burst into tears. It's strange because it's a cheerful little melody really but obviously something about the theme of self-actualisation in the lyrics quite literally struck a chord within me. I listened to it again, and typed the words up as it played.  The last time I did this was probably when I was a teenager or, at least, a student. Times in my life when I was filled with passion. Perhaps there's a lesson here...

All I ever wanted to be - Lily Frost

it's clearer inside of me
who i will always be
here at the core of my heart
mystics & cynics & crystals & memories
beginning to line up the stars
shining a light in the night
raising a veil from my eyes
waking me up to the light in my life, cause of my strength,
some of my dreams,
and everything i ever wanted to be

here i am
this is me,
where i'll be
in the dark
in the light
in the wrong
in the right

karma is energy,
give me my destiny
everything happens for a reason
every choice that i make, changes the course i take
won't be afraid when i make mistakes

open my arms and give in
do it all over again
do it all over again
do it all over again
again and again
to get to the end
of who i am now,
i'm gonna find the answers
and yes i know how
i know i can be the sum of my dreams
and everything i ever wanted, everything i ever wanted to be

here i am
this is me
who am i?
wait and see...