Fragile: easily broken or destroyed.
Sometimes we can all feel this way.
Like all that it will take is one gust of wind and everything that we are will blow away into nothingness.
I had a couple of moments like that this week.
I was ungrounded and unsure about who I was in this new reality I’ve found myself in.
A few of my friends far away are having a tough time and I wished I could just be there to give them a hug.
I questioned the validity of the choices I’ve made to be here.
Being a digital nomad really is as romantic as it sounds, but it’s also hard and lonely sometimes. Even with a group of amazing people, who would do anything for you and anything with you in a heartbeat, it can feel like you’ve isolated yourself from your ‘actual’ life.
Maybe it was my [not] near death experience on the scooter [please see last week’s blog].
Maybe it’s being far away for important birthdays and life events of the people I really love.
Maybe it’s the reality of relationships that aren’t the same anymore really sinking in and the fear that the same thing might happen with the relationships I’m forging now.
Maybe it’s *still* not being sure who I really am.
How hard we can be on ourselves. At least how hard I can be on myself. I’m so impatient with my learning and growing.
I expect exponential growth once I’ve decided on a goal and the worst part of that is that however much I achieve or grow it still wont be enough for me. So everything ends up feeling like a failure. Like it’s fragile.
The truth is that each bit is a step and even a pivot isn’t a failure. Changing course or direction in order to be committed to a vision of your life is brave and extraordinary. Admitting that you may have walked down the wrong path for a minute and making a change is humble.
This week we got to experience Loy Krathong. It is the festival of lights and a celebration of the provision of water. It was breathtaking to see thousands of lanterns rise into the air, the heat and light lifting them into the heavens.
I love light and water.
There’s something profoundly deep and spiritual about both. Light (or fire) defines and refines. It purifies and illuminates. Water cleanses and heals. It rushes in and sweeps out. Both destroy and give life.
So it is with life and this lesson I’m learning.
Yes of course, there are somethings that are fragile – and they might be destroyed or swept away but perhaps they weren’t meant to be sustained. Perhaps those things that should be given life, illumination and nourishment will remain and that’s what I need to trust in.
A friend and I lit a lantern and let go of things we had been holding onto as it took off. I tried let go of this perception of fragility in me.
While things will always be constantly changing, and the only thing we can ever be certain of is uncertainty, I am not fragile. The core of me is strong, just like for everyone. The things that need to remain are not fragile and never will be.
There is access to a light and fire in us that will warm and sustain us when we feel weak.
The energy is there precisely for those times we doubt, we just need to remember to ask for it and allow it to do its job.
How freeing and not fragile.
GibneyGoesGlobal 