Joyful Ruins

When you lose most things that held up your identity, that is truly disorienting.

But, it is also widening.

Those containers could not hold you.

If you are water, you were ready to burst, and with each expansion, you became something grander: a creek, a lake, a river, an ocean.

I think it is painful to leave. To lose.

But I also think you have lost the labels and the structures, not yourself. The hardest part in this, is finding grounding elsewhere.

Finding your true roots, the ones that keep you nurtured forever and cannot be lost.

Like a tree which

Outgrew its pot

I have lost my containers

And I am in the midst of

Rooting deep