Coming Home Through Christchurch: A Reflection on New Zealand, Ego, and Consciousness.

I recently returned from a trip to New Zealand, and while I expected beautiful landscapes and fresh air, what I didn’t anticipate was the profound mirror this journey would hold up for me—especially in Christchurch.

I was there for work, in my role as a conference manager. It was full, structured, purposeful. But alongside the logistics and conversations, something much deeper was unfolding. Christchurch, as I walked through it, quietly began to speak to me. And with the help of a local who guided me through the city, I started to see not just its story, but mine.

Christchurch was devastated by an earthquake in 2011—an event that destroyed 75% of the city. Buildings collapsed. Land shifted. Entire lives were upended. And yet, as the rubble cleared, something powerful began: a conscious rebuilding. The city wasn’t just restored—it was reimagined. With care. With thoughtfulness. With awareness.

And as I stood there, I realised—I have been through the same.Not in the physical realm, but in the spiritual and emotional aspects of my life. The earthquake of my own experience—the separation, the forgetting of who I really am— it wasn’t a mistake. It was necessary. It cracked the foundation of everything I believed I was, and it made space for something entirely new to emerge.

Over those few days in Christchurch, this awareness kept deepening. I was surrounded by conversations—industry dialogue, networking, moments of sharing. And I could feel in my body the energy behind them. Some were soulful. But many, despite good intentions, stayed at the surface. Ego speaking to ego. People wanting to be heard, to be seen, to relate, to contribute—often from a place of needing something. And I noticed: I’ve done that too. I still do, sometimes.

But what was different now was the seeing. I wasn’t judging myself. I wasn’t rejecting the ego. I was just watching it—compassionately.

There was no charge.

No story.

Just awareness.

At one dinner, I sat quietly and let it all wash over me—the voices, the movement, the buzz of conversation. And it struck me: I was sitting as consciousness, hearing the hum of ego all around. And for the first time, there was no need to participate from that place. I didn’t need to add anything. There was just peace in witnessing.

Still, I noticed how I’d sometimes slip back into the role. Into speaking as Kate. From ego. And it felt exhausting. Not wrong. Just… heavy. Like I was skimming the surface of something I knew was meant to go so much deeper. It gave me the contrast I needed.

And that’s what this trip ultimately gave me: contrast and clarity. The chance to feel the difference between moving from ego and moving from presence. Between effort and spaciousness. Between skimming and sinking into what’s real.

What’s different now is that I don’t need the ego to disappear. I can be with it. I can see it clearly, love it, and choose not to grasp its beliefs. It’s still here. But it no longer runs the show.

The separation—just like the earthquake—wasn’t a failure. It was an initiation. It brought me here. And what’s here now is a quiet knowing: home has always been within. I just needed to see it.

New Zealand offered that. Christchurch reflected it. And now, I walk forward—still in this form, still in this world—but anchored in presence.

Spacious.

Aware.

Rebuilt, not as I was, but as I truly am.