Covid, When the world paused, and we sat still in the quiet I sat with a question:
Who are we without our routines, our job titles, our daily connections and exchanges?

I’ve always been drawn to this human need to pin ourselves down
as if the knowing is the prize,
the answer unchanging, definitive.

But what if the truth is softer,
what if it lives in the not-knowing,
in the act of being,
in the way we move,
in the way we see and be seen?

Not a solution, not a conclusion—just a possibility.
That self is not a fixed point but a shifting tide,
a dance between the questions and the moments we let go.

Perhaps identity isn’t something to solve,
but something to live through,
to wonder at,
to hold lightly.