I want to be purposeful. I spend a lot of time, I would argue too much time, in my head-thinking, planning, hoping, dreaming, writing. When I look over those actions, I don’t see any movement.
Ideas are nothing until they are presented, spoken. Becoming is an escape; it allows for failure and development, but it doesn’t require any being. There’s no responsibility in hopes and dreams, plans and desires.
I want to be more than my words.
I nip and tuck my prose to suit and build my own self-efficacy, but I am not a permanent piece of work. I’m ready to be confidently out in the classroom, in relationships,and in leadership roles, as I am-fragile and shifting.
We are enough without being complete. In fact, we are better because we aren’t. We’re hungry.