Uncontained

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t already exhausted by the cycle.

The one I know will keep spinning because being 23 doesn’t come with the luxury of stability, or the privilege of time that experience affords.

I chase newness with hungry eyes, always lusting after more
more places
more stories
more chances to grow
But in the rush, I trip over my own feet like a child in her mother’s closet, trying on shoes that don’t quite fit.

At work, I borrow other people’s passions. I wear borrowed interest like a blazer.
My innate curiosity, which was once deep, playful, and expansive, now dulled by the limits of corporate fascination.

Society tells me to find a bowl, like something to pour myself into, something that contains.
But maybe the opposite of containment is my best trait.

I will let others chase the bowl.

Why conform to a version of “good” that feels so quiet?
Why silence my spirit to maintain someone else’s illusion of satisfaction?

Before I move forward, sinking deeper into adulthood, I want to remember this:

Money and wealth are not the same.

I want wealth to mean something more than numbers or status.
I want it to be a deep wellspring, something that nourishes me and the people I love; Something rooted in meaning, not just means.

Because I don’t want to chase riches, I’ll keep digging the well.

Because even if the ground shifts beneath me,
I’ll keep searching for something deeper than stability
Something that fills, connects, and overflows.

If stability is safe, then risk is sacred
and I trust God will meet me there.