Watch the mini video essay (7 min)
I’m here at Long Bay on Auckland’s North Shore, about a 20-minute drive from where I live. This is one of my favourite beaches—it’s part of a regional park with cliffs and a view over the water where you can see some of the islands in the Hauraki Gulf. I’ll show you the view in a second when we get there.
When I arrive and get past the grassy bit, I kick off my shoes, and then it gets very windy. Once I walk through the windbreak, I feel the wind in my face, and this stunning view opens up. I can see what sort of mood the beach is in today. It’s very windy and a bit choppy, with the tide right out—pretty windswept and interesting.
I like to come here for a walk or swim when I need to clear my head or let go of something weighing me down. There’s something about the ocean that helps me reset my perspective. The ocean’s expanse is always here, with waves rolling in and out, which somehow makes me and my concerns feel small and insignificant in a good way.
I find myself taking a deep sigh as I let go of whatever I’ve been holding onto. Sometimes I realise how much I’ve been holding by how many layers of sighs it takes to reach the place where I feel most like myself. Often, it’s more than I expect, reminding me of that saying: if you don’t have time to take a five-minute walk, you probably need a 30-minute walk.
The point is, at Long Bay, I know I can be my “shoes-off” self. If this is where I feel most like myself, it makes me wonder—why can’t I be my shoes-off self in other places? That’s a big question, but I think, broadly, it’s because in other places, I’m wearing my social armour. Sometimes I need to show up in a certain way for friends or family, or navigate situations where I don’t fully trust people’s motives and keep my guard up. Sometimes I’ve experienced that my shoes-off self isn’t “okay” or isn’t “enough” for others, so I mask and try to be what they need, even at my own expense.
As grokkists, we’re often prone to masking. We may ask too many questions, move too fast for others to follow, or see things a little too clearly, when in truth, most people can only handle so much clarity at once. Or maybe we people-please to keep others from seeing how weird we really are. Whatever the reason, the more time we spend wearing social armor instead of being our shoes-off selves, the more disconnected we become from ourselves—and we may not even notice that we’re paying a “disconnection tax” the whole time.
For me, I know that my shoes-off self is my best self. It’s when I have my best ideas, make my best decisions, and feel my greatest generosity of spirit. It’s when I remember how to love the world, and somebody has to, right? During the pandemic, I thought about this a lot, and like many people, I decided I was tired of the social armour and tired of paying that disconnection tax in too many parts of my life.
I want to be my shoes-off self as much as possible, and I only want to spend time with people who energise me. For me, that’s other Grokkists. When I meet other Grokkists, I recognise the same sense of isolation and disconnection from self that I’ve felt for much of my life. That’s why I feel called to create the Grokkist Network—a kind of “third space” where we can be our shoes-off selves together, whatever that means for each of us.
Danu Poyner
As a guest on my podcast once put it, the goal is to find mirrors in each other so we can become more accurate reflections of ourselves. I’m nervous about this, honestly. I have a social battery, and while I love connecting with people, sometimes I disappear completely for weeks or months when I just don’t feel like talking. It doesn’t mean I’ve lost interest or don’t care; it’s just a rhythm I have, and I can’t predict or control it.
I mention this because we often gauge community success by engagement—if people are constantly posting, we think, “Oh, this community is alive,” even if a lot of it is just noise. For me to be my shoes-off self, I need the freedom to step away sometimes without feeling bad. I want to be missed when I’m not around, but I don’t want to feel pressured to contribute more than I can give. When I feel that pressure, I feel misunderstood and unseen, and I tend to disengage quietly.
Maybe you’re like me and have your own rhythms. David, our community manager, thrives on constant interaction—that’s why he’s the community manager! The point is, in the Grokkist Network, you should feel free and encouraged to be your shoes-off self, whatever that means for you. And let us know what that is for you.
Otherwise, what’s the point, right? I hope this is the place where you’ll make friends you might not speak to for ages, but where you can pick up right where you left off. A space that makes you feel relieved to come back to, where you can kick your shoes off, step on the sand, see what kind of mood the place is in today, and go, “Ahh, it’s good to be back.”
So, I’ve been talking for a while. I’m going to enjoy the rest of my walk, but let me know your favourite ways to reconnect with yourself and what being your shoes-off self means to you. Thanks.
