Vulnerable Authenticity
I never want to lose the ability of being vulnerable with people and with my clients.
As a healer and psychic intuitive, there’s this sort of higher expectation to live up to; like being put on a proverbial pedestal of ‘knows the secrets of the Universe’. I've had people all of a sudden look at me after I open up and say, “oh, wait, you're human.” as if they’re disappointed by the revelation.
Like they didn't think I was raw on the inside.
Like I'm fully cooked and here to serve. As if all of my karmic ties are undone and I’m finished healing myself.
I've had friends disappear like an apparition once their version of me in their heads crumbled to the ground. I tumble from the pedestal I never chose to be on.
Like a hill pretending to be a mountain.
And it's moments like these that give others a chance to mirror authenticity. To see themselves in me too.
If we cannot be soft, vulnerable, malleable, and also strong, steadfast, and full of wisdom then the collective cannot be complex. Almost like we cannot be everything that we are, all rolled into one. But the catch is, we are. Living, breathing, contradictions.
Because I am you and you are we, and we are everything all at once.
If you turn your back on a different version, a different image of someone that your idea of self has painted on them as an idea of them, then you turn your back on authenticity and deny unconditional love for them, and thus, ultimately yourself.
Like a wave leaving the shore because it was too hard and not also water.
Like a leaf falling away from the tree because it does not see how it could be a part of something so much larger and harder and stuck; rooted to one spot.
But the wave is the entire shoreline of all the waters and lands that meet. And the leaf is the tree, whether it’s attached on the branch or floating aimlessly through the breeze.
If you look at another person and don't see yourself;
if you don't like what you see and you retreat;
We are no closer to liberation and freedom. Or love.
What is freedom if not for authenticity?
Being able to be mushy, confused, and angry and hating these authentic emotions when they are left without their costume on. Freedom is being, observing, questioning our version of reality. Being yourself and seeing others for themselves. Understanding that you yourself are just an idea of you.
It's painting a picture of someone and then stripping the paint off of the canvas and finally seeing that we both are blank things with buckets of paint at our feet filled to the brim with possibilities.
I won't paint you…
even if you paint me.
