Learnings - Unplugged

There were so many lovely lines spoken over the course of our four days in the desert. For me, a comment that stands out as particularly poignant was McGady’s reflection on the feeling that “shields were down” during the trip.

When someone puts words to something you haven’t yet considered, it’s a gift.

It started from the beginning. When Rachel bravely volunteered to go first in the opening ceremony, a tone was set that would carry through the weekend. Openness, receptivity, vulnerable connection.

If you were on the trip, then you know. “Words, hard. Feelings, good.” Thanks again, Rachel.

I don’t know about you, but I can feel my shield go up in certain interactions back in this plugged-in world of ours. And that’s probably ok. Sometimes it makes sense to protect ourselves, to hold back. But I can also feel it reiterating a myth of separateness. That I’m on my own and so are you.

When we relax and trust ourselves, we step through a doorway that shares a different myth. That just below the surface details, we’re so remarkably similar in all of our hopes and fears.

“Ok Marsh, shield down.”

There were so many lovely lines spoken over the course of our four days in the desert. For me, a comment that stands out as particularly poignant was McGady’s reflection on the feeling that “shields were down” during the trip.

When someone puts words to something you haven’t yet considered, it’s a gift.

It started from the beginning. When Rachel bravely volunteered to go first in the opening ceremony, a tone was set that would carry through the weekend. Openness, receptivity, vulnerable connection.

If you were on the trip, then you know. “Words, hard. Feelings, good.” Thanks again, Rachel.

I don’t know about you, but I can feel my shield go up in certain interactions back in this plugged-in world of ours. And that’s probably ok. Sometimes it makes sense to protect ourselves, to hold back. But I can also feel it reiterating a myth of separateness. That I’m on my own and so are you.

When we relax and trust ourselves, we step through a doorway that shares a different myth. That just below the surface details, we’re so remarkably similar in all of our hopes and fears.

“Ok Marsh, shield down.”

There were so many lovely lines spoken over the course of our four days in the desert. For me, a comment that stands out as particularly poignant was McGady’s reflection on the feeling that “shields were down” during the trip.

When someone puts words to something you haven’t yet considered, it’s a gift.

It started from the beginning. When Rachel bravely volunteered to go first in the opening ceremony, a tone was set that would carry through the weekend. Openness, receptivity, vulnerable connection.

If you were on the trip, then you know. “Words, hard. Feelings, good.” Thanks again, Rachel.

I don’t know about you, but I can feel my shield go up in certain interactions back in this plugged-in world of ours. And that’s probably ok. Sometimes it makes sense to protect ourselves, to hold back. But I can also feel it reiterating a myth of separateness. That I’m on my own and so are you.

When we relax and trust ourselves, we step through a doorway that shares a different myth. That just below the surface details, we’re so remarkably similar in all of our hopes and fears.

“Ok Marsh, shield down.”

There were so many lovely lines spoken over the course of our four days in the desert. For me, a comment that stands out as particularly poignant was McGady’s reflection on the feeling that “shields were down” during the trip.

When someone puts words to something you haven’t yet considered, it’s a gift.

It started from the beginning. When Rachel bravely volunteered to go first in the opening ceremony, a tone was set that would carry through the weekend. Openness, receptivity, vulnerable connection.

If you were on the trip, then you know. “Words, hard. Feelings, good.” Thanks again, Rachel.

I don’t know about you, but I can feel my shield go up in certain interactions back in this plugged-in world of ours. And that’s probably ok. Sometimes it makes sense to protect ourselves, to hold back. But I can also feel it reiterating a myth of separateness. That I’m on my own and so are you.

When we relax and trust ourselves, we step through a doorway that shares a different myth. That just below the surface details, we’re so remarkably similar in all of our hopes and fears.

“Ok Marsh, shield down.”