The Liberation of Vulnerability

There's a gentle awakening that comes, not on any particular birthday but somewhere along the sacred journey past midlife—a quiet moment when your soul realizes: you simply have no more fucks to give.

This isn't a hardening of the heart. It's a beautiful unfurling.

I've been contemplating why we become more willing—even eager—to be vulnerable as we age. To speak our truths with tenderness. To share our stumbles and wrong turns with compassion. To reveal ourselves without the careful masks we once thought necessary for survival.

This was very personal as I wrote my memoir, The Shaman's Wife: A Mystical Journey of Surrender and Self-Discovery. My writing mentor was correct when she appraised my first chapters. "You're a good writer, Alicia, but you're not in it. You are emotionally distant." I knew she was right. I had not allowed the essential vulnerability to appear to write the story I knew had gestated inside me for years.

The Sacred Emptying of Fucks-to-Give

The heart has its own wisdom, and it whispers: enough.

This gradual emptying is both a letting go and a filling up. One morning, you wake to find that the energy once poured into maintaining appearances, into pleasing others at your soul's expense, into hiding your authentic light—it now seeks a different channel. There is no violent prying open of your revered treasure box. It now becomes a voluntary sharing with the world, a cleansing of sorts.

But what a blessing follows! Suddenly, you can speak your truth with love. You can adorn your body with what brings you joy. You can create what flows naturally from your spirit rather than what the marketplace demands. You can love expansively in the way your soul has always longed to love.

Mortality: The Great Teacher

Nothing opens the heart quite like the gentle awareness that we are temporary visitors here. Not in the abstract way we understood intellectually when younger ("yes, all things pass"), but in the soul-deep knowing that arrives when beloved friends transition beyond this realm, when parents complete their journeys, when your body begins whispering reminders of its sacred impermanence.

If not in this precious moment, then when?

That question becomes less philosophical and more a loving invitation. Why am I saving this beauty for "someday"? Why am I postponing the heart conversation that yearns to happen? Why am I delaying the creative offering that wishes to be born through me?

The Soul's Longing to Be Truly Seen

Perhaps most sacred is the growing yearning to be known—truly known—in this holy now we inhabit. To release the personas we've crafted to navigate worldly success, social belonging, and others' expectations.

I find my spirit increasingly drawn toward authentic connection. Surface exchanges feel like water slipping through cupped hands—precious droplets lost. I hunger for depth. For truth. For the divine recognition that happens when one soul truly sees another. It soon becomes effortless to show up fully from that sacred place of "no more fucks to give."

In that longing, I've discovered a universal truth: we are all thirsting for the same authenticity. When I've offered my true self—tender places, uncertainties, and all—what returns is not rejection but a profound communion.

Wisdom Still Unfolding

Some teachings arrive in their perfect season:

Your existence is a blessing, not an apology. Your presence, your needs, your evolution—all sacred aspects of your journey. Save gentle apologies for actual harm, not for the miracle of being human.

Voice your heart's desires. With gentleness. With clarity. Without diminishing their importance. This remains a practice for me, having been taught to make myself small, to find gratitude in scarcity, and to place others' convenience above my truth. But each day brings new courage.

Create what your spirit calls forth. Worldly measures of success—status, wealth, influence—begin to feel hollow when held against the soul's need for authentic expression. What wishes to flow through you? What creation, what insight, what offering keeps gently nudging your awareness? That's your spirit's compass.

Beyond Our Sacred Stories

Perhaps the most profound grace of aging is recognizing how many limitations were simply stories we told ourselves. "I could never..." or "That's not who I am..." or "I've always been this way."

We are infinitely more than these narratives. More expansive, more contradictory, more surprising, and more capable than any story could contain.

Vulnerability allows us to step beyond these comfortable myths into a messy, beautiful truth: we contain universes. We are sacred works in progress until our final breath.

In that understanding comes not just the courage to be vulnerable but the recognition that vulnerability itself might be our greatest offering—the way we allow divine light to shine through our beautifully imperfect human forms.

What if we welcomed this grace now rather than waiting for age to grant permission? What would transform if we embraced this freedom in this precious moment?

I'm holding space for your sharing: Where have you discovered unexpected blessings in vulnerability? What aspects of your authentic self are you finally allowing to shine? What are you willing to share so I can see myself in you, and you can see yourself in me?

Welcome to our holy ground.