What do you want to become when you are older…. I still find this question very intriguing… It’s as relevant to my teenage daughter, as it is to me, as I am still becoming who I was meant to be, and I want to be. Is it therefore an end or a journey? For me I am on the journey… I have had a few seasons of falling and springing, and I enjoy just observing, of being, of savoring this middle – the middle, where i have been for a while… the middle is long… really long, entails many seasons, to help ripen me for the becoming – I seek for myself. The start is usually the easy part of any journey, where there’s excitement, there’s enthusiasm, an energy which is unstoppable… a bit reckless, chasing dreams, fantasies, and versions of yourself. Followed by the disintegration of the fast, fragile life, which gives you time to unlearn and relearn with pause, space and grounding, only if you recognize that opportunity. The stage I am at, unpacking the baggage of many decades of conditioning, holding, believing, to lighten the load, and travel the balance journey a bit lighter!

Becoming is pretty much considered an end in most cultures, a concept of an Identity – who are you, what do you do? My personal experience with identity has been complicated… having sat with discomfort for a long time, it has always poked me like a Handmade sweater whose yarn makes you uncomfortable. Wearing this discomfort, is like embracing my identity, having to wear this version of me, although I imagine myself inhabiting another image of being an outwardly successful person. Never ever giving myself the credit of doing the hard work to rebuild the ground I stand, to change the ways of an over functioning adult slowly and gradually to soften the impact of my own criticism. My favorite part of the journey being the dropping of the noun in favour of the verb. Because we are always a work in progress. Being a noun, feels fixed, compressing, and defining like a piece of furniture, whereas the Verb always wants to open it up into new possibilities and directions of fully being alive, in flow, in surrender excited about the next turn, free of labels, silos and definitions – being human!

This landing in the middle is a process, and has taken many turns to sometimes land at the same place as where I started, but to know that life is throwing an opportunity for expansion, for owning the driving wheel of the journey of life in my hands. To acknowledge, accept and accelerate as you please. The path is not clear, if you approach it with a spirit of adventure and abandon, you will end up feeling a lot more enriched rather than being on the known straight path. 

My own journey reminds me of a river. In its early course, it meets large boulders that resist its flow. It does not conquer them all at once; it presses against them day after day, diverted, slowed, forced to find new edges. Over time, what resists it wears down — not into nothing, but into sediment that becomes the riverbed itself, shaping its depth and direction. The river begins to move more gently when it reaches the plains, not because the struggle is forgotten, but because it has learned how to carry it. It flows closer now to the ocean, closer to knowing where it belongs.

I am filled with wonder at the shape this becoming might take. Is it stacking vertically, like sedimentary rock, each lived layer quietly compressing into strength? Or is it spreading outward, opening horizontally — like a delta forming through patient habitation, populating the landscape, creating an ecosystem of belonging and creation? Perhaps it is both: depth and expanse, memory and movement, formed through time and relationship. What excites me most is not the certainty of arrival, but the organic unfolding of possibility — nurtured through co-creation, integration, and trust in what is still becoming. And so I remain here, in the long middle, no longer resisting its pace, but celebrating its quiet, generative power.