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Nashville, TN: (From the Daring Greatly Blog Read-Along - Pages 112 - 171 (Chapter 4)):
This chapter has been, so far, the largest
one in Brené Brown’s book, Daring Greatly. 59 pages, to be exact. Which means
she covers a lot of ground, which, in turns, means I’ve been putting off
blogging about it (as a part of my commitment to the blog read-along) because I don’t know what specifically to focus on. When I finally sat down to listen to the podcast, she made a few poignant comments, which helped me narrow it down to one
topic: trying something new.
WHAT I READ
The chapter is actually called “the vulnerability armory,”
which is figuring out a way to protect ourselves from being vulnerable. No one
likes to feel uncomfortable and if you haven’t lived vulnerably ever in
a while, it’s not any easy switch to make. I find myself going to great lengths
to feel anything but. Since I’ve
temporarily taken away some of my natural go-to’s (specifically in the form of
vino, which is usually followed up by sending out semi-desperate texts, in an
attempt to force connection and get validation), I notice I’ve been trying to
substitute dealing with icky situations with other distractions.
Brené writes:
“Are my choices
comforting and nourishing my spirit, or are they temporary reprieves from
vulnerability and difficult emotions ultimately diminishing my spirit? Are my
choices leading to my Wholeheartedness, or do they leave me feeling empty and
searching?”
I’m beginning to understand that trying to live vulnerably
is simply trying new things and seeing what sticks. If the over-drinking and
unnecessary-texting are leaving me feeling ‘empty and searching,’ why not try copious
amounts of hot tea and listen to multiple podcasts of
This American Life? And if that doesn't work, what about trying something else? Granted,
both of those things – while seemingly almost valiant – don’t offer the same
immediate relief. And let’s be honest – they don’t give me the same warm and fuzzy
feeling a bottle of
Pinot does. But I’m understanding that the ‘quick
fixes’ I’ve done forever are just that – quick. If I want to live the rest of
my life out to the fullest, I’ve got to figure out new ways to move through the
muck of emotional yuck.
So, while not to lie and say that making the not-as-fun
choices or – as my dear friend has encouraged me on many occasions - ‘leaning
into the discomfort’ feels as good, I will say that there’s something to playing
out the whole scenario in my head and picking the choice that will make me feel
less shitty in the morning.
WHAT I HEARD
“Your tendency used to
be to rush to certainty. And it’s not because of time, it’s because the
uncertainty and that discomfort -- you can’t sit in it. You rush to safety and
certainty like a bull in a china shop. It doesn’t matter what I break along the
way, it doesn’t matter if it’s even the right decision, I just need to get out
of the torture of the uncertainty.”
As a way to deal with this, Brené suggests:
“Think about when
you’ve been scared and uncertain. Think about what you do and start using that
as your EWS (early warning system) and then name it. You can stomp around, journal, play a certain song. I sometimes listen to the Indigo
Girls’ ‘Closer to Fine’ when I’m in vulnerability.”
This is another reason I like Brené. She stomps, she
journals (and
blogs) and she listen to and quotes one of my
favorite artists / former bosses / dear friends. I’m pretty sure we could be BFFs. Or at least
e-FFs (if there’s not an official “electronic friends forever” acronym, there
is one now).
That song alone – which is played as the encore to nearly
all of their shows – talks about multiple ways to get closer to ‘fine’:
go to the doctor
go to the mountain
look to the children
drink from the fountain
go to the bible
go through the workout
read up on revival
stand up for the lookout
Notice, they didn’t call the song “Take The Shortcut To
Arrive At Perfect.” One, because that’s just a really bad song title (weird
that I’m not a songwriter…) and two, because that’s not what it’s about. There
is no shortcut to living Wholeheartedly. And there is no end point in which you
arrive perfectly. It’s the day by day, breath by breath, stumbly, fumbly,
attempts at living as openly and vulnerably as possible.
From Brené:
“It’s about self respect and about valuing the real
importance of our story and while we’re excited about connection, it’s still a
slow process. And we still want to honor ourselves and our stories as sacred by
moving slow.”
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to a
little thing I call:
Act Three: my afternoon tea date with
Ira.