I suspect this is true for most of us. A stumble that no one saw isn’t nearly as mortifying as a stumble with an audience, as they write at Tiny Buddha.
Not one to hide my errors as such, and still I sometimes find it hard to be openly vulnerable and maybe even in the wrong. The placid personality I haven't fully grown into yet.
And clinging to the notion of discovering of my own inner tranquility with age might be a forlorn hope - or so it feels.
As you get older, younger people think you know where it's at. But it's a forlorn hope. Because everybody's growing up at the same time, you know, Keith has said.
Daring to be imperfect is pretty scary in any Western culture. But with it comes a knowledge of ones personal borders and bounderies, and an understanding of what fly's and not for me, a recognition of what I consider to be bullshit in others and in myself.
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