I am here (I say, pointing) in the circle of my wholeness. Not done, but open. Not quite finished, but seeking to reach the authenticity of my deepest, truest, fullest self. It is a circling. It is a sweeping, swooshing circling. It is a meandering, a wandering, a wilding. It is indeed, a rebelling (no, no not regretting), but a leaning into the learning, into the understanding of being and of being human.
