UnPackaging

We all arrive in packages.  Neatly wrapped.  Protected.  Arriving safely.  Unbruised.

We all end up so differently.  The currents and tides of our lives shape and polish us so differently.  Some are hard where other are soft.  Some are weak where others are strong.

Time beats against us.  People and things and places and experiences brush against us.  Sometimes softly, gently, nurturing.  Sometimes abruptly, aggressively.  Bruising us, breaking us.

How do we heal?  How do we reconnect?  What do our scars look like? What do they say about us?  How have the bruised and broken parts reconnected?  Have we grown around the pain?  Have we hardened to it?

If we are all in packages, when do we let ourselves out?

Unpackaged at childhood, we are raw and open to the world.  We are gingerly taken out of box and carefully placed on a shelf, to be allowed to begin our journey.

For some, the uncovering is less than loving.  Maybe their box was knocked off the shelf. Hurt and hindered, the fear from the fall, the fear from the jolt, they vow never to leave.  Never wanting to remove the packaging.  After all it could only get worse.

What happens if our packaging is aggressively ripped off of us?  No warning.  Invaded.  Battered in the process.  The world is violent.   The world is not safe.  The world is something that cannot be trusted or respected.  "I cannot trust myself."  "I do not like myself."

Unpackaged people are free, wild and wonderful.  Unrestricted, uninhibited, supported by life and here to make a conscious difference to be in this world the way their insides truly are.  Organic.  Freeflowing.  DIFFERENT.  A celebration of the unconventional lovefest that they are fully committed to being a part of.