Vulnerability and Finding Your Truth.
Vulnerability. A uncommon topic of conversation amoungst adults let alone teenagers. Regardless, vulnerability has and is continuing to be my greatest challenge and greatest reward. I have attempted to read books and articles on embracing vulnerability but have found the best way to find your truth and embrace vulnerability is to reflect on your on your own journey.
Where did I start?
Bravery. Hear me out. Recently for my eightenth birthday I flew to the gold coast to live with six strangers and volunteer on a health retreat for seven weeks. Fear didn't tremble through my fingers as I booked the flight nor did it convince me that Gwinganna would'nt meet my expectations.. This was a result of feeling ready. I was ready, however, I soon had a lesson to learn about what it really means to be ready.
Gwinganna was abundant with tranquility. And whilst most savoured it it scared the hell out of me. Why you may ask? Because being quiet meant I had to be present and alone with myself. That meant WILLINGLY sitting with my shit. A tribal dance instructor steve described truth like a pool of clear water in our stomach. The sediment on the bottom; rocks, pebbles and broken shells, they are a part of us. They make up our lessons, challenges and undigested feelings. Being still meant wholeheartedly being in my truth and looking at those sediments whilst also enjoying the clear water. After a six-week long journey at last on my guest week I cracked it. I found my truth and in doing so found my vulnerability. I stained the resorts linen with not so waterproof mascara and masked my undereyes with concealer the next day. But that did'nt matter, I found my truth and in doing so found my vulnerability. The following week was a blur of zen. I digested some of the undigested sediment this included my toxic friend fear. I woke up in the morning knowing exactly who I was and I was pretty fucking cool with that person. However, I then returned to New Zealand and walked into a new phase of my life overnight.
There were bustles of people, sirens, things to do, things to buy and endless things to sign. Needless to say my bubble of truth was popped. That week now remains a blur and I spend everyday again seeking my truth. That feeling I had for one week of my 18 year on earth.
Now that I am here I realise I have stepped into a new arena of bravery. It took me 18 years to master one. How long will it take me to master the next? I have exhausted any optimism I grew in Gwinganna by consistantly striving for a destination I now realise might not even exist. I am coming to reliase we are always who we are. Deep down our truth is in us. The crystal pond in our stomachs with the sediment constantly evolving. We are the destination. We always have been. Born into this world as is, beings of love and consciousness. I now consciously try to acknowledge moments of truth and vulnerability but also ones that aren't. Because they are there. Sometimes frequent and sometime irregular but there, just as I am. Without a destination.
Where did I start?
Bravery. Hear me out. Recently for my eightenth birthday I flew to the gold coast to live with six strangers and volunteer on a health retreat for seven weeks. Fear didn't tremble through my fingers as I booked the flight nor did it convince me that Gwinganna would'nt meet my expectations.. This was a result of feeling ready. I was ready, however, I soon had a lesson to learn about what it really means to be ready.
Gwinganna was abundant with tranquility. And whilst most savoured it it scared the hell out of me. Why you may ask? Because being quiet meant I had to be present and alone with myself. That meant WILLINGLY sitting with my shit. A tribal dance instructor steve described truth like a pool of clear water in our stomach. The sediment on the bottom; rocks, pebbles and broken shells, they are a part of us. They make up our lessons, challenges and undigested feelings. Being still meant wholeheartedly being in my truth and looking at those sediments whilst also enjoying the clear water. After a six-week long journey at last on my guest week I cracked it. I found my truth and in doing so found my vulnerability. I stained the resorts linen with not so waterproof mascara and masked my undereyes with concealer the next day. But that did'nt matter, I found my truth and in doing so found my vulnerability. The following week was a blur of zen. I digested some of the undigested sediment this included my toxic friend fear. I woke up in the morning knowing exactly who I was and I was pretty fucking cool with that person. However, I then returned to New Zealand and walked into a new phase of my life overnight.
There were bustles of people, sirens, things to do, things to buy and endless things to sign. Needless to say my bubble of truth was popped. That week now remains a blur and I spend everyday again seeking my truth. That feeling I had for one week of my 18 year on earth.
Now that I am here I realise I have stepped into a new arena of bravery. It took me 18 years to master one. How long will it take me to master the next? I have exhausted any optimism I grew in Gwinganna by consistantly striving for a destination I now realise might not even exist. I am coming to reliase we are always who we are. Deep down our truth is in us. The crystal pond in our stomachs with the sediment constantly evolving. We are the destination. We always have been. Born into this world as is, beings of love and consciousness. I now consciously try to acknowledge moments of truth and vulnerability but also ones that aren't. Because they are there. Sometimes frequent and sometime irregular but there, just as I am. Without a destination.
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