Finally! Getting to know the wall

I've been wanting to post more about the trek for some week's now but it just hasn't got further than the "edit posts" section of my blog! Today is the day it's out there. No more hesitancy. Finally i am going to hit the "publish post" button.
What's been going on? Ah! Lots of "not good enough" thoughts lurking in the background. Lots of "shouldn't" and "can't" secretly trying to sabotage my new learning from the trip.
I could be blogging about so much more than "me, myself and I". There is a lot going on in the world that needs people to stand up and be counted, including me. There is a lot of reaching out I could be doing. But for now I continue to be rather self-indulgent and to curl up in a bit of a heap every now and then. 
I've got to recognise, that what I write here is part of my opening up, being human and vulnerable. Without that I can never stand up and be counted at all.
The second day of the trek took us along a very remote areas of the wall. There were just the 31 of us walking, and we spread out so that at times we were walking on our own if that was what we wanted. There were occasionally others walking along the wall too, but really we didn't see too many other people.

This is the Gubeikou section of the Great Wall. It is a beautiful day. We walk along the wall and through twenty seven watch towers. At the start there is a steep climb and then we are treking along rough paths and ruined sections, where the height and scale of the original wall begins to touch us, each one, in very tender places. Something about the immensity of the task of building the wall, the lives that were lost, the unknown path that lies ahead, brings us up against our own internal boundaries.
Some people are afraid of the height we are walking at, and the lack of anything hemming us in and keeping us safe. Others are battling with physical or emotional pain. Me, I was afraid of myself, of my boundaries, the fear of not being able to face what is coming over the next hill. There are a few shaky moments, I am really fearful that I can do this. I ask for help, someone to go ahead of me for a while and then we throw ourselves into the landscape and it takes our breath away.

At this point, I was still welcoming the challenges, and despite moments of fear I was still gently expanding my boundaries. Our first night in the lodge accomodation with it's lack of the standard of bathroom facilities we are used to, was quickly stripping away any reassurances that I might usually use as protection for when I go out to face the world. The not having a mirror or time to spend on the rituals that get me out of the door in the morning in real life, is difficult but gives a sense of freedom.
Each night so far I have lain awake grappling with those stark realisations that come in the dark, when you are alone and your thoughts seem magnified. The rawness and ugliness of what I think I am, is catching up with me, but I manage to keep on walking with my strong core and my "mother's" voice telling me to breathe and to look outwards. I remember words of encouragement from others who visit my blog and I give myself the strength I need to tolerate something that is very difficult for me usually. Not the walking or the physical challenge. For me the real challenge is being with people all day everyday with no escape, feeling not good enough, wondering who I am without all the usual trappings. If I am not "this" or "this", then who am I? What am I? Am I disappearing?
Instead of fearing the other people, instead of comparing me to them, I coach myself in the dark to look outwards to find what is wonderful about them. I look at their qualities and I find them all so facinating. There is so much to learn about them and such beauty is within them. Usually I am so much in fear about my own inadequacy, I cannot look outwards with love. Maybe my disappearing self is a good thing. The beauty all around me is helping me too, not simply the landscape or the history and majesty of the wall itself; but the beauty and courage of the people with whom I am walking.
I manage well at first. I look. I listen. I learn. I make a space inside me and without for just being. The effort to try to have my fellow travellers like and accept me, is too difficult to maintain. So I give this up. I enjoy not asking about people's jobs or telling them about mine. I watch in awe as people face their individual challenges and I learn about who they are in the present moment. How their essence naturally shows itself in their actions and words.
I suppose the sleepness nights, and the power of the negative thoughts that have been with me for so long, catch up with me at about day three. The voice of "not enough" is loudest and I suppose looking back, I allow it to take hold as it is so familiar. I notice too much and too easily, that I am not enough. I notice too much and too easily, that I am not one of those easily accepted. I ask myself why. As this happens I lose my inner guide and strong place. The confidence to open my mouth at all is lost for a time. I have nothing to say. I don't know what questions to ask. I have nothing to offer. I spiral down. Here is the familiar place of darkness that has travelled with me across the miles.
I've been seeking far and wide for beauty, truth and courage. In the first few sleepless nights I have found it within myself. I find it again in these days and it sheds a light, however harsh, on my darkest places. I am amazed by the courage I see all around me, somehow it is closer and more easily accessed here on the wall. We walk through villages without adequate sanitation, where people are working long hours and do not have our freedoms. I am quiet and looking outward still and connecting with the landscape. I manage to quieten the negative voice by taking the pressure off myself and allowing myself to be quiet, still and watching. I allow myself to be with the disappearing. It allows me to feel very small, and also incredibly whole and vast at the same time.

We are all stripped bare to ourselves, to our fears, and we walk closely with ourselves and our fears. We walk with courage because it is easier to do this than it is to run away, easier than to curl up into a small ball and refuse to go any further. I am also walking with appreciation, of the beauty all around us; of my family back home that I suddenly miss very much; of the luxuries I take for granted; of my health and strength; of this time spend in the open air and sunshine; of the chance to visit this very interesting country and to learn about it's people; of the acceptance of me by the others; of the chance to get to know them a little.
I opened myself up to love and beauty and goodness and found myself lacking because that has been my story before and I allowed it to happened again. I have created a me in everyday life that is mostly an illusion. That is how I have survived. I am ashamed that on this fantastic trek of mine in honour of my mother, I still allowed myself to feel unworthy. Unworthy to walk with these people who are going through their own personal challenges. I feel, quite rightly, humbled in their presence but this still paralyses me sometimes instead of freeing me.
What I need to be able to do is to put the unworthiness aside, to recognise it but to forgive myself and others. To trust in myself and acknowledge my love, beauty and goodness, and also the same in others. All this is there at my core. I can bring it out into the world and allow the light to shine. The disappearing self is the key I think. Instead of the diminished self.
I'm getting to know my own boundaries as I got to know the Great Wall.
From high up on the wall we could see a long way into the distance, in all directions. We climbed up very steep sections and scrambled through entrances to high watch towers, all the time facing new challenges and becoming stronger with every step. What a blessing to travel. What a blessing to return stronger and a little wiser.