The unfiltered realities of life
At age 19 I was unofficially adopted by a Sri Lankan family in Australia when my classmate Shernaali refused to let me spend any special occasion without the loving warmth of a family - didn’t matter which.
Soon enough, I was a regular attendee of all things Sri Lankan - weddings, new year’s day feasts, christmases, baby showers and even a funeral.
There was something about their culture that made me feel right at home with them - I thought it might have been the not-so-spicy white curries and coconut rotis that I would secretly and impolitely wipe out, or the love language of physical touch that was more predominant than what I was used to - and after finally making my way to Sri Lanka to experience it first hand in January this year, I can finally put a finger to it.
There is a simplicity in the way they relate to one another that is so-incredibly-wholesome. No frills, no false promises, no ulterior motives, no opportunistic attempts, no expectation to receive when they give, and plenty of heart-warming smiles that blessed my heart over and over again.
During my time there I had a few life-changing encounters that stopped me in my tracks to reflect on my tendencies; there were lessons in humility and humanity that I wasn’t expecting to have while on holiday, but they kept my feet on the ground and tender heart beating in my chest.
I had down time during my solo travel to try and make sense of the internal map I subconsciously use to navigate my life with, in order to reflect upon the way I think, feel and act in certain habitual ways and whether it supports or denies the joyful experience of life.
Since everyone is in some way your mirror, it was also entrancing to uncover the nuances of myself I never got to behold in familiar environments and while under obligation of my roles in life.
“Travel not to find yourself, but to remember who you have been all along.”
Sri Lanka and its people have captured my heart, and I can so safely say, that I will be back again.
Much love, Gabrielle