The Beautiful Mess of Being Human

You know the moment. That flicker of hesitation just before you say the thing that really matters. You’re on the edge—raw, real, about to share something unfiltered—and then… boom. The mask subtly slips on. You smile politely, pivot to a safer topic, or pretend you didn’t even care that much to begin with or that you’re being the bigger person. Congratulations. You’ve just witnessed the ancient human ritual known as guarding.

Let’s not be too harsh on ourselves. Being human is, after all, a messy business. One moment you're open-hearted and generous, the next you're rehearsing your internal press release to make sure you sound clever instead of... well, vulnerable.

This article is not here to lecture you about “being authentic” in pastel Pinterest quotes or encourage you to emotionally vomit under the guise of #radicalhonesty. No. We're going to dissect the phenomenon with surgical precision and poetic profanity, using a scalpel carved out of ontological insight—and a touch of sarcasm for good measure.

We’re diving deep into the swing—the oscillation between those fleeting, sacred moments of vulnerability and those other times when we morph into PR managers of our own egos. This isn’t a pathology. It’s a pattern. And like all patterns, it has structure.

You see, vulnerability in the Being Framework is not an emotion, nor is it a strategy for manipulation dressed up as “openness.” It is an Aspect of Being, more specifically, a Mood or Attunement. It reveals how we relate to ourselves in the face of perceived threats, judgement, or ridicule. But it also reveals how deeply we're willing to be seen, not just admired.

Now let’s be clear: every human being—yes, including the therapist, the philosopher, the world leader, and your overly woke co-worker—swings between openness and guardedness. Even those with a PhD in Self-Awareness have moments of ducking, dodging, and deploying subtle forms of self-protection. This isn’t hypocrisy. It’s humanity.

But here’s the kicker: the more integrity we have around our relationship with vulnerability, the more action-consistent we become. That is, the more aligned our actions are with our attunement to vulnerability, as opposed to just performing it like an Instagram monk.

The pendulum swing is real. What we’re offering here is not a way to get rid of it, but to notice it, navigate it, and act with Ontological Responsiveness when it matters most.

So buckle up. We’re going to explore:

• What vulnerability really is and isn’t.

• Why we swing between openness and defence.

• How to develop action integrity and follow-through.

• How Higher Purpose helps us transcend the narcissistic quicksand of stuck-in-self-ness (more on that later).

• And how to lead, parent, relate, negotiate, and steward others even when they’re locked inside their emotional bunkers.

Welcome to the mess. It’s where the real work begins.

The Distinction – Vulnerability as an Aspect of Being

Let’s put a bullet through the fluff: Vulnerability is not a tactic. It’s not some trendy leadership skill or a TED Talk performance you can master in front of a mirror with soft lighting and an “I’m being real now” voice. It’s also not the emotional diarrhoea that gets falsely packaged as authenticity. Let’s grow up.

In the Being Framework, Vulnerability is an Aspect of Being. More precisely, it is a Mood or Attunement. It’s not what you feel—it’s the ontological atmosphere you’re immersed in, shaping the way you relate to risk, exposure, and judgment. It's how you are being when confronted by situations that test how real you're willing to be.

Here’s the litmus test:
When you're exposed—be it to critique, uncertainty, failure, or even praise—are you open or are you guarded? Do you let your authentic self participate in that moment, or do you send in your press secretary?

Distinction of Vulnerability

Vulnerability impacts how you relate to the concerns you have with respect to how you are being perceived or thought of in different situations. It is how you are being when confronted or exposed to perceived threats, ridicule, attacks or harm (emotional or physical). Vulnerability is not being weak, agreeable or submissive. It is when you embrace your imperfections. It is considered the quality of being with your authentic self without obsessive concern over the impression you make.

A healthy relationship with vulnerability indicates that you are open as opposed to guarded or closed in receiving unfamiliar knowledge and feedback. You are willing to reveal your authentic self to others, regardless of what they may think of you or the prevailing circumstances. You may often leverage the power of being vulnerable to generate trust and build relationships. You acknowledge and embrace your imperfections to support your growth and influence. Rather than letting other people’s opinions of you hold you back, you learn from them to propel you to wholeness (integrity) and fulfilment.

An unhealthy relationship with vulnerability indicates that you are likely to defer or avoid taking action or making decisions when you feel they may impair your reputation. You may also avoid or put your guard up in situations where you could expose yourself to ridicule or look foolish. You are more concerned with being seen to do the right things, looking good or impressing others than actually doing the things you know to be right. You may be inclined to sacrifice your authentic self or image to project a fake persona that you consider more acceptable and impressive to others. You tend to take criticism personally. Alternatively, you may attempt to create unrealistic boundaries to maintain a ‘safe’ distance, avoiding the unknown and refusing to explore new territories. You may be overly controlling of others or your environment.

Reference: Tashvir, A. (2021). BEING (p. 233). Engenesis Publications.

Vulnerability, when healthy, doesn’t mean being agreeable or spineless. It means being able to embrace your imperfections without obsessing over how others might perceive you. It’s the willingness to be known, beyond the curated version of yourself you think the world deserves. It’s the orientation that allows you to say, “Here I am, flaws and all, and I’m still in the game.”

In contrast, an unhealthy attunement to vulnerability is not just protective—it’s performative. You defer decisions. You filter your actions based on how they’ll land socially. You become more obsessed with being seen to do the right thing than with actually doing the things that matter and you know to be right. And slowly, inch by inch, you trade integrity for image to up your social currency and so-called sense of belonging. 

This is where Metacontent Discourse sharpens the blade. In this discourse, we ask: What meaning structures are embedded in your default response to exposure?
Are you acting from authentic awareness, or are you hijacked by shadows like shame, inadequacy, and people-pleasing wrapped in noble-sounding packaging?

A person with a healthy relationship with vulnerability is not fearless—they’re aware of the fear and still choose openness. That openness, in turn, becomes a source of relational gravity. It builds trust. It deepens influence. It fosters care.

In the Nested Theory of Sense-Making, vulnerability often gets collapsed under the personal or interpersonal domains, when in fact, it plays a foundational role in your ontological infrastructure. Beyond your appetite to be seen, vulnerability impacts how you perceive reality, assign meaning, make decisions, and perform across multiple nested layers—from self-reflection to systemic leadership.

So no, vulnerability is not a “soft” skill.
It’s not emotional exposure for applause.
It is, in its highest form, a structured attunement to truth—one that grants you access to growth, to connection, and yes, to leadership.

Let’s now explore how this attunement doesn’t stay static, but moves, and even swings. Because if there’s one thing predictable about vulnerability, it’s how often we betray it.

The Reality – We All Swing

Let’s get one thing straight: no one lives in a constant state of pure, radiant vulnerability. Not even your therapist. Not even that barefoot CEO who cries on stage once a quarter to appear "human." Vulnerability is not a personality trait—it’s a momentary attunement, and every moment you’re called to it, it shifts.

You swing. I swing. We all swing.
One moment you're speaking truth with courage and clarity, the next you’re armouring up like you’re preparing for an emotional Game of Thrones.

This oscillation between openness and guardedness is not failure. It’s human. And what determines our maturity is not whether the swing happens—it’s whether we’re aware of it, and whether we take responsibility for how we respond.

Here’s how it often plays out:

• You’re in a conversation with someone you respect. They say something that hits a nerve. Instead of leaning in and responding vulnerably, you intellectualise, deflect, or subtly attack.

• You’re in a team meeting. Someone challenges your idea. Rather than staying open, you mentally withdraw and start justifying why they’re the problem.

• You’re with a loved one who clearly needs you to show up with softness, but you’ve had a long day and decide it’s a good time to shut down, crack a joke, or point out their flaws.

These are not “bad moments.” They are ontological tremors—subtle but significant shifts in your attunement. Vulnerability temporarily exits the stage. Guardedness enters and leads the next act.

Why does this happen? Because, unless we’re grounded in Higher Purpose, we default to what I refer to as stuck-in-self-ness—the trap of being caught in your own short-term perceptions, your ego, your fears, your survival narratives. It’s the inability to zoom out of yourself and that moment. You get hijacked by your past. Or you become your reaction. Or the pressure and need to look good right now overwrite your access to your long-term vision.

Stuck-in-self-ness is not merely selfishness—it’s ontological stagnation. You’re not being with the context, the other person, the future, or the greater good. You’re looped in your own defensive meta-content.

And yet, we don’t always see what’s really going on and what’s at stake. Why? Because we often mistake the swing for wisdom. We tell ourselves things like “Now’s not the right time,” or “They won’t understand,” or “I’m just being strategic.” But these are often well-dressed justifications for avoiding the discomfort of being and staying vulnerable. And it is costing all of us.

In leadership, this swing is especially costly.
One moment, a leader is sharing from a place of truth. The next, they're micromanaging, withholding, politicking, or hiding behind dashboards and buzzwords.
The result? Disconnection. Distrust. Decay of culture.

But let’s examine this more generously. Vulnerability is risky. Staying open while exposed is not natural—it’s chosen. That’s why it's not enough to just value vulnerability. You need to practice Ontological Responsiveness—the art of catching yourself mid-swing and realigning with your integrity in the moment, not just in hindsight. In this case, it’s the conscious choosing of being vulnerable in the moment where it seems almost impossible, yet matters most.

But before we get to how to do that, we must go deeper into understanding vulnerability as a mood, and in what conditions that mood arises—or vanishes.

The Mood of Vulnerability – It’s Not Always On Tap

Let’s kill the myth that vulnerability is a decision you make once and for all, like signing up for a gym membership and expecting your biceps to grow by your enthusiasm and moral intention. Vulnerability isn’t summoned by willpower alone. It’s a Mood—a shifting attunement, conditioned by how you relate to yourself, others, and the world in real time.

Some days it flows effortlessly. Other days, it’s like trying to squeeze water from a rock while being judged by twelve versions of your high school PE teacher.

This is where the Being Framework puts a nail in the coffin of the pop-psychology fantasy that “you should always be vulnerable.” No—you can’t. You’re not a vending machine of openness. You are a conscious being navigating ever-changing contexts, each with their own moods, risks, and perceived threats.

Moods—like fear, shame, resentment, joy, awe—either facilitate or inhibit vulnerability.

• Fear? It armours you up.

• Shame? It tells you you’re too defective to be seen.

• Trust? Now we’re talking. That opens the door.

• Care? It invites you to remain exposed, not for masochism, but for connection.

In the Metacontent Discourse, this is where the meaning structures beneath the mood matter. Your interpretation of what’s happening isn’t neutral—it’s filtered through your nested sense-making apparatus. If your background Meta-content screams “being vulnerable is dangerous,” then no amount of positive affirmations will invite openness.

Let’s say you’ve developed a healthy relationship with vulnerability. Great. But unless you also develop situational awareness and ontological responsiveness alongside it, your access to that mood will remain intermittent and unreliable when it matters most.

You may even find yourself saying things like:
“I wanted to be honest, but the moment wasn’t right.”
Translation: “The mood of vulnerability wasn’t accessible, and I didn’t know how to restore it.”

This is why being attuned to your own moods, and their underlying Meta-content, is critical. If vulnerability has vanished from your attunement, you won’t find it in a mantra. You’ll find it by recognising the shift and tracing it back to the moment you stopped being with what is—when you defaulted to defensiveness or stuck-in-self-ness.

Leaders, take note: the mood of the system you lead often reflects your own mood. A guarded leader creates a guarded team. A leader attuned to vulnerability creates a climate where truth, feedback, and even conflict become safe, not because it’s easy, but because they understand that embracing one’s humanity is the access to greater potential.

So no, you can’t always tap vulnerability on demand. But you can learn to notice when it’s missing, and take responsibility for restoring it, not just for your own sake, but for those you’re in relationship with.

Next up: how your Action Integrity and Follow-Through Capability determine whether that mood becomes embodied—or just admired from a distance.

Action Integrity and Follow-Through Capability – The Real Markers

Admiring vulnerability is one thing. Embodying it when it counts? That’s where most people flinch. You can romanticise openness all you like in your journal, but when your boss questions your decision, your partner asks how you really feel, or a team member challenges your leadership, it’s not your ideas about vulnerability that will show up. It’s your Action Integrity.

Action Integrity, as defined in the Being Framework, is your completeness of acting upon the way you relate to an Aspect of Being. In this case, vulnerability. It’s the gap (or lack thereof) between your attunement and your execution. You can say you value openness, but if your actions read more like “strategic withdrawal with a hint of passive-aggression,” guess which one people will trust?

And then there’s your Follow-Through Capability—your capacity to consistently sustain that integrity over time. Think of it as the ontological endurance to keep showing up as someone who honours their own attunement, even when it’s uncomfortable, inconvenient, or unrewarded.

Let’s illustrate:

You commit to bringing more openness into your relationship. Vulnerability shows up on Day 1 like an enthusiastic intern. But on Day 5, after your third unresolved argument, what shows up is a closed door, a cold silence, and your inner monologue rationalising the whole thing away.
Your attunement to vulnerability? Still there.
Your action integrity and follow-through? Gone for a smoke.

This isn’t a character flaw. It’s a misalignment—one that Ontological Responsiveness can catch if you’re willing to notice it.

In leadership, this is where the cracks become public.
A leader who speaks of “psychological safety” but punishes dissent has no action integrity around vulnerability.
A founder who shares emotional stories on stage but can’t admit fault during board meetings has a follow-through problem.
They’re attuned to vulnerability in theory, but act from self-preservation in practice.

Let’s be clear: we all break our own integrity sometimes. The question is—do you even notice when you do? And when you do notice, are you willing to restore it?

This is not about perfection. This is about alignment.
Do your actions echo your attunements?
Do you embody what you claim to care about—even when your reputation, pride, or comfort is on the line?

The good news? Integrity is restorable. And your capacity to restore it, especially around vulnerability, is what differentiates performative openness from transformational leadership.

And this restoration doesn’t come from more rules. It comes from cultivating Ontological Responsiveness, which we’ll explore next.

Ontological Responsiveness – Catching Ourselves in the Act

Let’s be honest—most of us don’t realise we’ve shut down until long after the damage is done. The words have already left our mouths. The silence has already thickened. The guardedness has already been broadcast across a dozen micro-expressions and missed opportunities.

This is where Ontological Responsiveness comes in—not as some moral virtue, but as a real-time superpower.

Ontological Responsiveness is your ability to notice, disrupt, and redirect your way of Being as it unfolds, while it’s unfolding. Not six hours later, in therapy. Not during your next performance review. Now. In the moment. When it matters.

Here’s what it doesn’t look like:

• “I guess I could’ve handled that better.” (Post-mortem)

• “That’s just how I am.” (Shrug and deflect)

• “I’ll be more vulnerable next time.” (Performance scheduling)

Instead, it’s more like:

• “I can feel myself armouring up—what am I avoiding?”

• “This silence is me avoiding exposure—what truth am I not speaking?”

• “Am I being pulled by my Higher Purpose or pushed by fear?”

It’s not self-flagellation. It’s self-governance.
A kind of existential honesty that lets you pause mid-swing, acknowledge your shift in attunement, and re-enter integrity.

And yes, it’s uncomfortable. Because it doesn’t allow you the luxury of hiding behind your mood or weaponising your wounds as excuses. It invites you to own your state—without shame, without blame, and with unflinching clarity.

Let’s take a moment to link this back to stuck-in-self-ness.

When you're stuck in self, you’re orbiting around your own fears, projections, reputations, and perceived risks. You're unable to extend yourself beyond your current psychological and temporal horizon. You collapse into your own Meta-content and, with blinkers on, you only see your perspective and the narratives you spun. And that’s when vulnerability leaves the building.

Ontological Responsiveness, then, is the act of breaking the loop of stuck-in-self-ness. It’s what lets you reorient to:

• The other person,

• The context,

• The future,

• And most importantly, your Higher Purpose.

Because when you’re pulled by something greater than your discomfort, vulnerability becomes not just possible, but powerful.

This matters especially in leadership and stewardship.
Because leaders who cannot respond to their Being in real time tend to project, suppress, control, or withdraw.
And leaders who can respond—those rare few—create cultures of permission, trust, and authenticity without ever needing to preach about them.

In practice? You pause. You breathe. You choose again.
Not based on how you feel, but based on what matters.

That’s Ontological Responsiveness.
Not a hack. A habit. One that, when practised, transforms your relationship with vulnerability—not just conceptually, but structurally.

Up next: what do you do when it’s not you who’s armoured up… but the other person?

When They Close Up – Holding Space for Invulnerability

Let’s flip the mirror.
What happens when you are attuned, grounded, and vulnerable, but the other person shows up like a brick wall wearing a polite smile or worse, a strategic smirk?

Welcome to the subtle art of holding space for invulnerability.

First, let’s be crystal clear: not everyone will—or can—meet you in vulnerability at the same time, pace, or depth. This doesn’t make them broken. It makes them human. In many cases, it means they’re simply stuck in self.

Let’s make a distinction here.

Stuck-in-self-ness is not narcissism, nor is it simple defensiveness. It’s a state of ontological constriction, where a person is trapped inside their own short-term concerns, emotional filters, and outdated mental models. They are unable to transcend the narrow corridor of their present self-perception and immediate impulses. They are collapsed inward—either rehearsing past wounds or micromanaging how they’re seen.

And you? You’re standing there, trying to relate, connect, lead, love, negotiate, collaborate—with a person who isn’t available. Not emotionally unavailable in the therapy-speak sense. Ontologically unavailable.

So, what do you do?

You hold space. But not the way pop culture has turned it into a candlelit circle of nodding.
Holding space, in your discourse, is:

• Initiating the relational opening,

• Establishing the container for truth and discomfort,

• And sustaining that space even when the other retreats into invulnerability.

This is not passive tolerance. It’s active stewardship.

You don’t guilt them into vulnerability. You don’t perform it to provoke them. And you certainly don’t make it about your ego’s need to be received.

You show up consistently, aligned with your own integrity. You stay attuned. And most importantly, you don’t collapse into their state. You don’t let their guardedness infect your being.

Whether it’s your partner, your colleague, your co-founder, your father, or your government, the principle is the same:

Your job is not to force their opening. Your job is to remain grounded in your own.

From a leadership perspective, this becomes essential.
Because when team members, citizens, or collaborators are in invulnerable and react with impatience, superiority or performance will only deepen the disconnection. But when you bring Higher Purpose into the frame, you create a space beyond both parties’ egos.

That space? That’s where trust gets born.
That’s where ontological flexibility becomes contagious.

And let’s be honest: sometimes they won’t open up. Not then. Not ever. That’s not your failure. But if you compromised your own integrity in the process? That would be.

So hold space. Not out of pity, but out of possibility.

Coming up: how this same dynamic plays out not just in personal relationships, but across nations, negotiations, organisations and cultural systems.

When Invulnerability is Systemic – From the Bedroom to the UN to the Architecture of Entrenchment and Disintegration

Invulnerability isn’t just a personal hiccup—it can metastasise.
When a Mood of guardedness becomes habitual, legitimised, and rewarded, it scales. It becomes systemic.

And then suddenly, what was once a momentary contraction of openness becomes culture, policy, ideology—even law.

You’ll see it everywhere:

• In couples who haven’t had a real conversation in years, but still post anniversary photos with well-lit filters and zero eye contact.

• In corporate cultures where “feedback” is a weapon, performance reviews are kabuki theatre, and everyone has a LinkedIn mask superglued to their face.

• In international politics, where nations refuse to acknowledge historical atrocities, double down on fragile egos, and hide behind "diplomacy" while manufacturing cold wars with better branding.

• In public discourse, where invulnerability disguises itself as certainty, outrage, and the insatiable need to be right.

In each case, the system itself becomes stuck in self.
Stuck in its own narratives, pride, unresolved history, and performative identities.
Unable to access new perspectives. Incapable of vulnerability because it would threaten the entire scaffolding of its manufactured legitimacy.

From a Nested Theory of Sense-Making view, this occurs when collective Meta-content becomes rigid. The system no longer allows for reinterpretation, feedback, or disruption. The “truth” becomes rigid and performative—something fixed, with no room to be discovered and evolve. And any attempt to invite vulnerability is seen as subversion.

You know what happens next:
Mistrust. Conflict. Stalemates.
Whether in bedrooms or boardrooms or international summits, the game becomes one of protection over connection.

This is how entrenchment begins—not merely as an ideology, but as a progressive decay in Being, first internalised at the individual level, then reinforced in relationships and teams, and eventually ossified into institutions. In my Authentic Sustainability Discourse, I describe this progression through four compounding forces: shadows, misery, suffering, and finally entrenchment.

• Shadows are the concealed or disowned aspects of our Being—unresolved fears, distortions, insecurities, pretences, and inauthenticities that quietly shape our perceptions, choices, and interactions without conscious awareness.

• Misery is the condition that arises when these shadows dominate our sense-making. It manifests as a repeated pattern of dysfunction, disintegration, and misalignment, resulting in a life or system that is directionless, reactive, or fragmented—estranged from authenticity and coherence.

• Suffering is the subjective experience of that misery—what we feel when we live with its consequences. It reflects the inner and outer pain caused by the unaddressed shadows and the distortions they generate. Suffering is not merely about external hardship; it’s about being internally trapped in patterns that we either don't understand or believe we cannot change.

• Entrenchment is the terminal stage—when that suffering becomes so familiar, so repeated, and so embedded that it is no longer recognised as suffering. It becomes structural: encoded into norms, identities, relationships, institutions, and policies. At this stage, the dysfunction is no longer felt as pain but is mistaken for reality.

When invulnerability becomes systemic, it acts as a gatekeeper for these conditions to flourish. A habitual mood of guardedness at the personal level quickly spreads—first as communication breakdown in relationships, then as mistrust in teams, and finally as full-blown institutional dysfunction. A lack of authentic vulnerability doesn’t just close people off—it erodes the system’s capacity for regeneration.

Over time, this solidifies into a performative sustainability—a simulation of care, innovation, and inclusivity, while the deeper Being of the system is in quiet collapse. Intention becomes diluted into performative virtue. Trust is manufactured through control. Sovereignty/autonomy is undermined by rigid protocols and consensus-thinking, suppressing the spontaneity and agency needed for real transformation.

From here, even the language of evolution is weaponised. Dialogue becomes optics. Feedback becomes a risk. Vulnerability becomes taboo. The entire ontological field narrows.

This is not merely unsustainable—it is anti-sustainable.
And it is precisely in these moments, when systems collapse inward and mistake rigidity for resilience, that we must restore Being, reorient around Higher Purpose, and model Ontological Responsiveness.
Because without those, what remains is theatre—civilised, efficient, impressive perhaps—but fundamentally disintegrated.

So what’s the antidote?

It begins with leadership—not just positional leadership, but ontological stewardship in attunement with vulnerability.

And here's the catch..

You can’t legislate vulnerability.
You can’t performance-manage someone into authenticity.
But you can lead in a way that consistently draws from Higher Purpose, anchoring yourself beyond short-term optics and egoic gratification.

A Higher Purpose, remember, is not a brand statement. It’s a way of Being pulled forward by a future that’s greater than your immediate concern. It allows you to:

• Zoom out without detaching.

• Zoom in without getting entangled.

• Care without controlling.

• Relate without losing yourself.

Leaders who embody vulnerability without weaponising it, and hold space for the invulnerability of others without collapsing into it, initiate systemic change. They model a different mode of sense-making—one that integrates responsiveness, accountability, and care without demanding perfection.

Whether you’re leading a country, a company, or a conversation with your child, the principle scales:

Be the node of integrity that reminds the system that openness is still possible.

And when the system forgets? Remind it again. Quietly, powerfully, and without performance.

Next: how a connection to Higher Purpose fuels this capacity—not as a nice idea, but as the ontological force that makes it all possible.

Distinction of Higher Purpose

Higher purpose is being drawn and compelled towards a future vision or cause greater than your personal concerns and beyond your immediate interests and/or comfort in such a way that it sets your priorities and worldview. It’s going beyond yourself and your time without expecting immediate gratification to identify resolutions that will drive you towards that future vision. Higher purpose is considered the source of the inspiration and charisma required to effectively influence, inspire and develop others as leaders.

A healthy relationship with higher purpose indicates that you draw yourself forward to fulfilling challenges you wouldn’t normally take on. You are resolute, willing to delay gratification and have the fortitude to go beyond your own discomfort and self-concern to fulfil your future vision. Others may consider you a charismatic leader who is visionary and committed to something meaningful and worthwhile.

An unhealthy relationship with higher purpose indicates that you may be shortsighted, narrow-minded, self-centric or selfish. You are mostly driven to fulfil immediate personal concerns and ambitions. You may be limited and constrained by your personal goals and desire for instant gratification while being oblivious to or ignoring the needs and wants of others. Others may frequently challenge and question your motives as a leader and may not experience inspirational leadership from you. Unable to zoom out and see the bigger picture, you may often get stuck in the present with a fragmented narration of the past and future. Alternatively, you may detach yourself and zoom out too much, being so captivated by and engrossed in your long-term vision that smaller, short-term progression seems insignificant to you. This may lead you to lose sight of and fail to appropriately address more immediate obstacles and barriers.

Reference: Tashvir, A. (2021). BEING (p. 341). Engenesis Publications.

Linking Higher Purpose – The Antidote to Stuck-in-Self-ness

There’s a moment—quiet, unglamorous—when a person must choose between staying safe or stepping into purpose. Vulnerability lives in that moment. And it doesn’t survive long without backup. That backup? It’s called Higher Purpose.

In the Being Framework, Higher Purpose is not your passion project or your business mission statement scribbled on a slide deck. It is your attunement to a future cause or vision greater than yourself, compelling enough to restructure your priorities, expand your worldview, and stretch your very Being.

It’s what pulls you beyond yourself—your comfort, your timeline, your fears. And without it, you’ll stay stuck in self. Forever negotiating between your reputation and your authenticity. Forever collapsing back into the echo chamber of your own insecurities, disguised as “realism.”

Here’s the paradox:
The only way to consistently access vulnerability is to care about something more than how you’re perceived.
And the only thing strong enough to eclipse that obsession? Higher Purpose.

Let’s say you’re in a conversation that could restore a relationship, but you’re scared of being rejected.
If your highest allegiance is to your own comfort or image, you’ll retreat.
But if you’re drawn forward by a deeper concern—healing, clarity, justice, love—you might still be afraid, but you’ll speak anyway. That’s the difference.

Higher Purpose doesn’t eliminate fear. It reorganises your ontology so fear is no longer your CEO.

This is especially non-negotiable in leadership and stewardship.

A leader who is stuck in self will:

• Avoid conflict.

• Seek approval.

• Guard their reputation.

• Lead reactively.

A leader drawn by Higher Purpose will:

• Invite truth, even when it hurts.

• Prioritise long-term resolution over short-term optics.

• Embody vulnerability not as a gimmick, but as a signal of commitment to something bigger than ego.

And it shows. In families, businesses, communities, and governments.
The presence of Higher Purpose expands the space of what’s possible. It dilutes the density of self just enough for responsiveness, creativity and grace to emerge.

This is also how systems shift.
When enough individuals within a system orient around Higher Purpose, a new rhythm becomes available. One in which vulnerability is not weakness, but a currency of trust.
One in which people open up, not because they’re fearless, but because the future they’re committed to matters more than their fear.

So the next time you find yourself armoured up, or about to collapse into performance, ask:

“Am I protecting my ego or serving my purpose?”

Because vulnerability will always feel risky—unless you know what you’re risking it for.

Up next: the tangible tools, structures, and practices that help make all of this not just a theory, but a way of living, leading, and Being.

Tangible Tools and Practices – Built on The Being Framework, Metacontent Discourse and Nested-Theory Of Sense-Making

So far, we’ve been operating at altitude—dissecting the architecture of vulnerability, Higher Purpose, and the ontological swings we all experience. Now it’s time to land the plane.

How do you actually live this?
How do you stop being a philosophical spectator of your own integrity and start playing the game for real?

Here are several practical tools, built directly on top of the Being Framework, Metacontent Discourse, and Nested Theory of Sense-Making, to help bring vulnerability and Higher Purpose into embodied, consistent action.

1. Use the Perspective Quadrant to Shift Attunement

Tool: When you feel yourself closing up, ask:

“What perspective am I currently inhabiting?”
Are you trapped in the personal, immediate, or image-based lens?

Use the quadrant to consciously shift into the relational, future-oriented, or systemic perspectives that can restore your openness.

Why it works: Perspective determines possibility. If your Meta-content says “this is threatening,” of course, you’ll guard up. But if your orientation becomes, “this is an opportunity to honour what matters most,” you start breathing differently.

The Perspective Quadrant

The Perspective Quadrant is a diagnostic and ontological mapping tool within the Being Framework that helps reveal where a person, group, or system is primarily operating from in terms of orientation and concern. It highlights the limitations of siloed perception and opens the door to more comprehensive, conscious, and integrated responsiveness.

It outlines four fundamental perspectives:

1. I – The personal or subjective lens: focused on my needs, feelings, safety, interests, and desires. This is often where self-concern and sovereignty are most present—but can also become the source of ego, fear, or self-centredness when isolated.
   
   

2. Them – The direct relational lens: focused on the immediate other—a friend, partner, colleague, opponent. This perspective includes empathy, negotiation, and interpersonal awareness, but when overemphasised, can lead to appeasement, people-pleasing, or emotional enmeshment.
   
   

3. The Others – The extended social and cultural lens: focused on society, groups, or audiences beyond the immediate interaction. This is where public perception, social norms, and collective influence operate. When distorted, it gives rise to performativity, virtue signalling, and systemic groupthink.
   
   

4. Global – The wide-angle or meta-systemic lens: focused on civilisational, planetary, or long-term implications. This includes broader interconnected systems, historical and future implications, and Higher Purpose. When disconnected from the “I” or “Them”, it can become overly abstract, detached, or idealistic.

Leader Perspective – The Integrated View

The Leader Perspective emerges when a person is able to hold, integrate, and respond from all four perspectives simultaneously. It requires ontological flexibility, clarity of intention, and a mature attunement to both sovereignty and stewardship.

This perspective is not about control or positional authority—it is the Being of a leader: able to move fluidly between personal authenticity, relational care, social awareness, and global responsibility. It forms the basis of Ontological Stewardship.

2. Daily Integrity Inventory

Tool: At the end of the day, reflect on this:

• Where did I act in alignment with my attunement to vulnerability?

• Where did I retreat, perform, or pretend?

• What would restoration look like in each of those moments?

Why it works: This builds the muscle of Action Integrity and keeps your Follow-Through Capability from becoming a vague intention. You’re not just noticing misalignment—you’re training yourself to recover it.

3. Mood Tracking as Attunement Monitoring

Tool: Track your moods like a strategist. Each time you notice anxiety, resentment, fatigue or resistance, ask:

“What mood am I in? And what is that mood revealing about how I’m being with the present moment?”

Why it works: Vulnerability is a mood. If you don’t know what moods are present, you’re blind to your access to it. Being attuned to what mood is driving, builds ontological literacy and helps you respond in real time.

4. Higher Purpose Grounding Practice

Tool: In high-stakes or emotionally charged moments, pause and ask:

“What is the Higher Purpose I’m being drawn towards here?”
Write it down. Speak it aloud. Let it be the reason you stay open, even if it’s hard.

Why it works: You reconnect with what matters more than your fear. Vulnerability stops being about self-expression and starts becoming an act of service.

5. Conscious Space-Holding Protocol

Tool: When others are guarded, don’t fix. Don’t perform. Do this instead:

• Initiate: “I’m here and available when you are.”

• Establish: “I want to create space for what’s real, not just what’s comfortable.”

• Sustain: “Even if you don’t want to go there now, I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Why it works: This breaks the cycle of counter-guardedness. Instead of reacting to their invulnerability, you stay attuned, signalling safety without pressure.

6. Meta-Check Conversations

Tool: Bring Metacontent into the room. Say:

“Can we talk about what this conversation means to each of us before we continue having it?”

Why it works: This breaks through the content-layer loop and surfaces the unspoken meanings that often trigger guardedness. It articulates the substance and stakes that matter for all parties involved. It’s especially powerful in leadership, coaching, intimate relationships, and diplomacy.

These practices don’t require perfection. They require presence.
The point is not to be “more vulnerable.” The point is to be more attuned to when you’re not—and to take responsibility, whether that means reopening yourself or holding space for others who cannot.

This is what it means to be a steward of Being.
Not a guru. Not a performance artist.
Just someone willing to stand in openness, again and again, even when it’s hard.

Especially when it’s hard.

We All Swing, Just Don’t Let Go of the Rope

Let’s drop the fantasy that anyone’s got this perfectly figured out.
We all swing.
From brave to brittle. From open to armoured. From attuned to avoidant. It’s part of the human condition—especially when you care, especially when you lead.

But here’s what separates the stewards from the spectators:
They don’t pretend the swing isn’t happening.
They feel it, name it, and respond to it—not later, but in the moment.
They don’t confuse performance with purpose, or guardedness with strategy. They know when they’re shrinking. And they know how to stretch again.

This is the real work of transformation.
Not the curated vulnerability of social media.
Not the algorithm-approved performance of “authenticity.”
But the sweaty, sometimes awkward, always sacred act of Being with what is—and choosing openness, even when every fibre of your old programming is begging for a mask.

So no, we don’t stay vulnerable all the time.
But we hold the rope.
We swing back.
We realign.
And we restore the integrity of our Being.

In a world that rewards invulnerability with applause and punishes truth with algorithmic exile, choosing to remain open is nothing short of revolutionary.
But you don’t do it for the performance. You do it because something in you refuses to abandon what’s real.

And if there’s one thread running through every section of this piece, it’s this:

Vulnerability is not the end goal. Integrity is. And vulnerability is often the path that gets you there.

So go ahead. Swing.
Just don’t let go of the rope.

Conclusion – Where We Swing From Matters

We began with a swing. A pendulum. A pattern we all live through—between vulnerability and guardedness, openness and self-preservation. But the point was never to stop the swing. The point is to understand what it reveals, and to live with the kind of ontological awareness that allows us to act, when it matters, how it matters, and from what matters.

Because where you swing from determines where you land.

When you swing from ego, you land in performance.
When you swing from fear, you land in withdrawal.
But when you swing from Higher Purpose, you land in alignment—even if you wobble on the way.

You won’t always stay open. You won’t always get it right. But if you learn to notice the swing, to respond rather than react, and to ground yourself in something greater than yourself, then vulnerability becomes more than a moment—it becomes a way of leading, relating, and transforming.

So if you choose to respond, you may swing. But you won’t be lost.