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On a plane somewhere between Burbank, CA & Oakland, CA: (From the Daring Greatly Blog Read-Along - Pages 32 – 57 (Chapter 2))
In the latest installment of my fall writing project, Brené Brown debunks the myths of vulnerability. She lists four of them, each fairly intense and could probably could be discussed in separate blogs. But there is one additional myth I think she could have added:
Myth #5 (according to me): "Vulnerability Is Always Saying Yes."
WHAT I READ:
I've been a little confused on what it actually means to be vulnerable. When you 'step into the arena,' as Theodore Roosevelt talked about in 1910 (and which Brené's
book title came from), the image of moving forward and being brave and taking a
risk is immediately conjured up. I was feeling that if I'm going to live
vulnerably, I'd better be ready to stand on a soap box and tell everyone how I
think they ought to live, enter into new relationships without any regards to
the outcome and start jumping out of planes.
Ok, so I actually did buy a Groupon for skydiving.
But I’m not so sure being vulnerable necessarily means you have to go to
the ultimate extreme. I believe in saying what you believe is true, but using
kindness and compassion and not hurting anyone intentionally. Social media,
especially, gives us a forum in which we can voice what’s on our minds, but
sometimes it provides a false sense of power. I wonder if we would say all of
the things we write if we had to say it to someone face to face? Maybe being
vulnerable is more about sharing your thoughts on life than it is berating
someone for not thinking like you do.
As far as relationships go, Brené writes:
"Love is uncertain. It's incredibly risky. And loving someone leaves us emotionally exposed. Yes, it's scary and yes, we're open to be being hurt, but can you imagine your life without loving or being loved?"
No, I can't imagine my life without loving or being loved, BUT I also think that you can’t just jump into something blindly without looking at all of the pieces that make up the whole. It reminds me of the Kenny Rogers’ song (written by Don Schlitz), The Gambler.
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
and know when to run.
Kenny didn’t say to put everything you have out there and gamble it away. But he also didn’t say to not take chances and hope for the best, regardless of the outcome. I think his point is to play the game, but make a choice based on looking at all of your cards and weighing all the options. And by “readin' people's faces,” of course.
WHAT I HEARD:
In the audio podcast of the 3rd blog read-along, Brené says:
“When we recognize our
vulnerabilities, we can tend to them with some loving kindness. When we can
acknowledge that we’re vulnerable (our triggers) … the susceptibility to hurt
is so much higher when we don’t say ‘hey, I am vulnerable and this is
what it means.’"
One of my big triggers is that I’m a people pleaser. I want
everyone to like me and will usually keep my mouth shut if I feel like
something I say might be displeasing to someone else. I also find it’s easier
to go along with whatever someone else wants to do instead of doing what I want
to do – or think what is best for me – in order to keep me in a good light in
their eyes.
But eventually and inevitably, I become resentful of them
and mad at myself for not saying or doing what is right for me.
When these triggers come up and I start to recognize them as
something I struggle with, I actually do ‘tend to them with some loving
kindness.’ Instead of beating myself up for saying yes to something that isn’t
the best for me, I can – every once in a while – try to make a different decision.
I find that sometimes, the more vulnerable thing is to show up and say,
"No. I don't think going down that path is the right thing for me. And
it's lonely and unpopular and lame, but if I choose to go down the
other path, I'd be doing it to avoid making someone else think less of me and
not doing what I think is right for me."
This is terribly vulnerable because I am risking to venture into an uncertain unknown future instead of a choosing an already identified (though perhaps not truly fulfilling) present. But I've got to believe that if I keep on the path to wholehearted living, someday the risk to be vulnerable by saying YES will present itself.
Until then, what's so bad with a few games of solitaire?
