As you move from one place to another, your mind learns to pack lightly. You learn to hold on to fragments of sounds, routines, faces but you rarely ever settle long enough to grow roots. There’s a silence that follows each departure, and a strange unfamiliarity that greets each arrival but in those moments of uncertainty, something creative stirs, a new rhythm, a new way of seeing. You’re constantly collecting: textures, gestures, stories and with every shift and adding layers to yourself. You begin to live in the in-between: always adjusting, never fully grounded but always expanding.

Growing up, movement was normal. Change came often and quickly while stability felt foreign like something you had to learn slowly. There’s a quiet ache in learning how to stay, just as there was a numbness in always leaving. In trying to make sense of this, structured ideas like adaptation and philosophy felt too rigid. As it turns out, the truth was messier much more like a tangle of feelings that surfaced slowly and without a clear explanation.

This thesis is a reflection of that process. It’s about embracing motion, not as something to endure, but as something that energizes and expands the self. It explores how identity grows through flow, how presence can be felt even in transition, and how the unfamiliar often leads us to our most honest forms.