ferocious vulnerability on tour

I have been on such turns and bends alight with multiple culture shocks such as witnessing the heart breaking devastation of the post-apocalyptic tsunami in Japan, learning the balancing act of sailing at sea, having humility pumped through my veins by the mesmerising Himalayas and reconnecting with family in such a beautiful way along the road. Its been intensely revealing and while traveling is amazingly fun and adventurous it certainly asks you to be present even when initially you don't like what you see. Perhaps that's where serendipity comes in.

Rush hour Tokyo

I witnessed the chaotic world in Buenos Aires and the impact a man has over a beautiful but insecure woman as he whistles and shouts sexually charged words at her in a city that has the highest cases of bulimia. I've seen the commuters passing out in to their mobile phones on the speedy commuter trains of Tokyo, a city so emotionally repressed that buildings have suicide proof windows and a business culture that expects workers to stay until their boss leaves the office be 9pm or 3am. I've seen the ignorance a culture (who's government is hell bent on growth) can create in one of the most beautiful places in the world as garbage lines the paths and riverbanks in the "Holy" spots of India and how affluent Everest tourism has poisoned the minds of the once staunchly religious Buddhist community in Nepal as one approached temples to pray and instead got directed immediately to donation boxes.

I've seen how we bullied ourselves in to disharmony and disconnection with one another, with our families, with our real home, nature and especially with our beautiful selves. This has been the most incredibly expansive experience of my life yet and still equally one that brought me back to myself; a chaos within I had to accept, the conditionings of society and culture to reflect upon, fears to face, materialism that never quite filled the sense of emptiness and impact a childhood truly had on my subconscious from when my brother was born sick with a hole in his heart to the bullying endured during a dramatic money-fueled divorce. Yup. Shit happens in this world on all sorts of scales. But that's how we learn and thankfully it all lives in the past; that illusory place that's only really a subjective story not serving the present moment beyond the wisdom one may have learned and emotions that might want to pop up and be surrendered.

So now I am in Antigua; the Caribbean. This is a stunning place, with wonderful heartfelt culture and again one of extremities. The locals, mostly black, still carry the sufferings their ancestors fought through thanks to slavery which is projected on to the "Whites" who reflect back an innate fear of the unknown. The blacks have wristbands to represent "Black Power" and with the huge affluent sailing community and living near "English Harbour", a place that brings in many elite sailors of Great Britain with lovely la-dee-da accents, I've been intrigued by the contrast of shame and pride that plays on repeat between these cultures.

The beautiful and hopeful story is that there are also people here who see beyond colour and are encouraging more balance and connection between these communities that can learn so much from one another. Many of them seen as the mad ones. The visionaries  I have faith that eventually we'll be united perhaps not by choice but as means to survive as we are certainly causing enough damage to our home.

The music scene here is world class. I LOVE reggae; its beat inspires that of the heart and my feet just can't help but bounce to it. I craved some reggae beats in India as I subjected myself to relentless trance at music festivals (for a good cause) and frankly trance isn't really a scene for me. I go out to some of the music nights here to get my socks blown off by live jazz or a local reggae band while flying round like the social butterfly I am, surprisingly sober given I don't really drink much these days, and my travel budget appreciates it, chatting to new friends and learning of their worlds, exchanging learnings as we go and feeling alive and grateful. But I walk home alone. Alone safely self-protected.

A lesson I've had to learn is how to be vulnerable. Because I am. Constantly. Any solo female traveler will agree that feeling perpetually vulnerable in the vortex of the unknown develops a ferociousness and sense of faith even through the darkest of times. Learning to keep one's wits about them and know how to walk away from trouble and step out of others people's stuff. To be sane while the world around oneself is being insane. To be responsible and to take deep breaths in those moments of reflection and confusion and to protect oneself from the naughty children out there!

The world is doing some really crazy things. I would read about it. I watched documentaries about it. I spent a lot of breath talking about it.

Feeling it, on the other hand, shook my soul awake through that powerful sense of ferocious vulnerability.