The only thing I know is that everything is changing, always. Everything is shifting and moving and transforming and constantly becoming something new. My perception of the world – and my own self-image – is not what it used to be. Reality is different now. I am different. And yet, I am still me.

The frustration I used to feel; the claustrophobic feeling of not knowing what to do with my life, of feeling stuck without being able to move, has faded. It is almost strange to think about how strong that feeling once was. Somehow I have managed to push through it. I’m on the other side of the river now, resting on the riverbank. Pondering what my next step will be.

I have by no means found absolute answers to who I am or what the purpose of all this strangeness is. But I have opened a few doors within myself. I am feeling so much bigger than before, so much wider and taller and rounder and wilder and deeper. I am reconnecting with my body. I am reuniting with my laughter and my sense of playfulness. I am allowing myself to write, to communicate, to connect – because that is what I love to do. The old armour is full of cracks, and my heart is pouring out.

I am a mother now. Carrying a child in my belly for almost nine months, giving birth to my daughter in the middle of a moonlit night and slowly learning what it means to be her mamma, has given me a new sense of power. The mother who is related to all mothers is moving in my bones. She is drawn towards the sacred; towards nature; towards rituals and rhythms and symbols. She is drawn towards singing and dancing and healing and cooking and planting seeds and working with her hands and telling stories that hold the world together. She is a weaver of words, a creator of life – and she is pushing me towards my dreams.

Yesterday, I read a quote from a woman who had recently started her own business as a healer. She described how she had always had a very rich and colorful inner life – but on the outside, her life didn’t quite reflect it. Until she decided to create her own company and share her gifts with the world - then her inside and her outside finally aligned.

I was touched by this story, it felt like it was carrying a message for me. After dreaming and learning and growing for such a long time – it is time to focus on the outside. It is time to share my thoughts with others. I used to be so scared of what people would think of me, afraid of being labeled as naive, unprofessional, detached from reality, too dreamy, too much. But I am realizing that there is nothing to be afraid of. Some people will be put off by what I am writing, by who I am, but it’s okay. There will be others. Only by sharing what I’ve got will I be able to find my tribe - the people who resonate with me.

A few mountains have been climbed, a few answered has been found. But still, there are so many questions. How to juggle motherhood and the creative life? How to make money? How to build the home that I am longing for, the house with the small garden and the big wooden table, where our children will grow up? How to move closer to nature, and closer to a creative community?

How, exactly, am I supposed to build this bridge between the inside and the outside?

”Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue”, says Rilke. ”Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

I will do my best to follow this advice. I will walk patiently, with anticipation. I will follow the wild woman, curious to see where she is taking me.

And the only thing I know is that everything will keep changing, always. Everything will be shifting and moving and transforming and constantly becoming something new. I will change. And yet, I will still be me.