To Vulnerability.

I've had a pretty busy last few days, and tonight, although I'm keen to write up a new update, I'm just too tired from the weekend to put the proper thought into it. I spent the weekend in Hamilton for Hamtown Smakdown, and had late nights both nights. Then yesterday I hitched back up to Auckland, got dropped off in Epsom and walked all the way to Kingsland, made it just in time to go to a meeting about the animal rights op-shop meeting, ate heaps of food, then pretty much went straight into town after that for the lantern festival. The lantern festival was awesome. I felt like a five y.o. kid for some reason, running around the crowds. I've never been to the festival before, and I was pretty impressed. The fireworks were pretty cool too. I ended up home late again. Today has been a tiring day also, full of cooking and walking and visiting the O Week at University of Auckland.

I had a few chats with people during the weekend about this blog. One thing that a lot of people liked about it was that I am willing to make myself vulnerable in this blog, by just being upfront and honest about things. And vulnerability encourages others to make themselves vulnerable. I think that is encouraging. I wish that everyone was willing to make themselves vulnerable, and that everyone had the maturity to respond properly to that vulnerability.

Coming home from Hamilton yesterday I got picked up by a lady probably in her late fifties. We chatted as she drove me up to Auckland. That's the nature of hitchhiking, no matter how tired you are, you are obliged to have a lively conversation with whoever has picked you up. It's like the fare for the ride. As we chatted we both became more honest and vulnerable with where we were coming from. I started to reveal a little more about myself, my life transitions at the moment, and my fears about life right now, things that aren't going as I had hoped they would, but also my hopes for the future, my dreams and goals, and my optimism that the journey would work out in the end.

She started talking about her recent divorce, and the feelings it brought up for her, her feelings of isolation from her family, because it is hard sometimes for family to understand divorce, and to re-design their view of a person separate from a long standing relationship. I was impressed by her honesty and willingness to become vulnerable to a complete stranger.

I think we all wish we could just open our hearts up to others, without fear of harsh judgments. I think we all wish we could share our hopes and dreams and fears and mistakes with everyone. When someone asks how I'm doing, I wish I could just tell them everything.

Friendships can be difficult at times. I talked about this with the woman who gave me a ride on Sunday. This was the main reason her relationship with her husband fell through. He wasn't willing to discuss how he felt about things, what was bothering him, and what his worries were. I don't think friendships can last without address these things when they are important. There is only so much that can be swept under the carpet before you start to lose your footing as you try to navigate you way through the room. Eventually things get so ingrained that dealing with them becomes to difficult, or unfamiliar, and it's easiest just to walk away.

I think I tried many times as a Hare Krishna to be vulnerable and honest like this. I just don't think it was reciprocated with. I think it was considered something uncomfortable, or something others couldn't deal with. So the lumps under the carpet just got too big to ignore any longer.

I don't want that to happen with my friendships now. But perhaps that is curse of human nature. 'Which is the most universal human characteristic? Fear or laziness?'

Hopefully tomorrow I'll have recovered enough from my weekend to continue on with the next parts of this story I've been telling. I've had the time to think about a few other events from 2008 which I think are worth talking about before moving on to 2009. I'm looking forward to more opportunities to make myself vulnerable. There seems to be little that is more rewarding.