Am I creative? Am I willing to fail?
As I face these questions, I squirm.
I feel like a caterpillar in a silk cocoon, not quite sure where I am in my evolution, but feeling as if some transition is unfolding, out-of-sight.
What transition, I’m not sure. Nor why.
Being unsure, I feel afraid, uncertain, confused.
With a tinge of hopeful anticipation.