The Poetry of Becoming

We all reach moments where life feels like a riddle we can’t quite solve. The path ahead dissolves into uncertainty, like someone turned off the lights in the middle of a moonless night in a house we've never been to before. When I'm in this space I cant help but feel as though I'm chasing my tail. Again? This again? I thought I had already integrated this, learned from it, transcended it. And yet, here I am.

Poesía Botánica was born from this threshold. The space between who I was and who I was becoming. A space that felt, at times, like being lost, blindingly lost. But looking back into these periods I realize that maybe lostness isn’t something to fear. What if this feeling of lostness is simply a reroute? Maybe it’s life and its eternal wisdom, guiding us deeper into ourselves. 

I have reinvented myself many times, and every cycle has carried the same lesson: growth is not linear. It spirals. We return to familiar feelings, but we are never the same. The version of me standing in uncertainty today is not the one who stood here before. The difference is subtle but profound.

I wrote this after watching the Barbie movie. America Ferrera's monologue moved something deep within me and many women I discussed it with. The contradictions of what’s expected from us as women are relentless, they thread into every aspect of life.

Poesía Botánica is many things, but at its heart, it is an invitation. An invitation to carve your own path, to let it unfold free from the weight of expectations. To honor the beauty of who you are, rather than contort yourself to fit in. We ask: resist the pull to shrink so that you can fit in. Instead, find your own truth and trust it. Let your life be yours. 

I leave you with this: what if feeling lost is not anything other than a beginning? A call to uncover a truth that is yours alone to find.

--

From the moment I could walk,
they hurried me into halls of conformity,
where uniqueness was drowned by the chorus of standardized dreams.

I heard of 'success' and it seemed like a faraway shore,
a race to be won, a mountain to conquer,
I joined in to pursuit this idea,
and for a while I never asked if the journey was mine to take
or if the prize was one I longed to claim.

I look right and I'm shown only what I don't have. 
A parade of possessions, accolades. 
I look left and see a pile of expectations,
each turn a new demand, a fresh contradiction.

"Find yourself,"

But where does one look
when the map is a tangle of mixed messages?

I search for my own voice, my own truth.
But it's hard to hear over the noise of a world that values doing over being.
In the rush to achieve and acquire, I've become a stranger to my buried, muddled heart.

So yes, perhaps I am lost. 
But aren't we all wanderers, In this spiralling life?
Aren't we all wanderers, seeking a center that feels like home?

And today, I welcome it - this feeling of lostness. 
I realize It is not a failure,but an awakening,
a realization that the map I've been given,
might not lead to the treasure I seek.

So yes, I feel lost.
But in this lostness, I find a call to rediscover and a journey to reclaim. 
The self I've always been, waiting quietly for me to tap in.

And perhaps, in acknowledging this lostness,
I've taken the first step, on a path that's truly mine.

-- 

A Moment for Reflection

Lostness is an invitation to listen, to feel, to uncover what’s waiting under the surface. If this resonated at any level, take a moment to sit with it. Grab a journal, close your eyes, and ask yourself:

Where in my life do I feel disconnected?
What if this uncertainty was guiding me somewhere deeper?
What if I allowed myself to be in the unknown, without rushing to fix it?

Let the answers come without force, maybe they'll surprise you. 

To the poetry of becoming.

Tamara