Intentional Vulnerability

Intentional Vulnerability

I was twitchy all day Saturday because Jason and I had scheduled a date to “reconnect”. This meant intentional vulnerability, a state many of us love when it’s over and fear before it begins.

Sharing our soul openly with another person is an act of sheer courage. What we say can be misconstrued, rejected, lost in the other person’s point of view or belief system. Even when we sit down for an enchilada dinner with the person we love most in the world, practicing intentional vulnerability is a risky proposition.

I’m happy to say it went remarkably well. I shed a few tears, asked him to keep driving when we arrived at the restaurant because I was in full flow (and it’s easier to pour out my heart when I’m not making direct eye contact), said more than I had rehearsed but somehow it was better that way.

INTENTIONALvulnerabilityWe’ve had a turbulent summer. New job for Jason, appendix rupture for me, far more question marks than exclamation points when it comes to where we will live and how we will solve a host of complicated problems. At the end of the day, none of that matters as much as who we are in our relationship together.

Are we kind to one another or do we take our stress out on each other? Are we considerate of what the other person needs or are we lost in our own sense of entitlement? Do we compete for who has it the worst or do we support each other in the hardest moments?

The answer, of course, is somewhere in between these extremes. To be married is to be in a constant state of flux. When one of us is calm, the other is tense. When one is confident, the other is a mess. It’s a seesaw where we do our best to balance out each other.

Jason has proven, again and again, that he is trustworthy when I open my heart to him, but every time I still feel afraid. Vulnerability is a powerful force to unite people when it works, but when it fails it feels terribly isolating and scary.

By the end of our delicious Mexican meal, we both felt closer, happier, more united. We want this season of struggle to mean something. We prefer to allow it to change us, from the inside out, so we are different as a result. Neither of us want to return to normal life without acknowledging that a significant shift has occurred.

Every time intentional vulnerability works the way it’s meant to, I’m a convert all over again. I long to grow all of my relationships in this way, but vulnerability is a two-way street. Both people have to buy in to this soul-to-soul spark.

If you tend to hold back, find a safe person and give it a try. Let yourself truly be seen for who you really are. Bring up your big fears, regrets, pain. If the other person proves worthy of this gift, you will experience a true connection that will go far above and beyond anything that skims along the surface and you’ll see how valuable intentional vulnerability can be.

5 Minutes of Encouragement

5 Minutes of Encouragement

5 Minutes

I’m planning to offer a service at our local farmer’s market this summer called 5 Minutes of Encouragement. The idea is me sitting in a lawn chair under a small white tent, talking with anyone who is interested for five minute slots.

I plan to ask what the person would like encouragement for and then offer it the best I can. This experiment feels vulnerable, unusual, outside-of-the-box and highly unpredictable. I think of those things as strengths, not weaknesses.

Lately I’m tired of living small. I want to swing for the fences and try things that I would’ve been terrified of a few years ago. What if no one comes to my tent for encouragement? What if I draw a blank and can’t think of anything helpful to say? What if the whole shebang is a massive embarrassing flop?

Who the hell cares?

I’m done waiting around for the right conditions to exist before I take risks. “What if” is not a helpful exercise. I want to follow my curiosity, as one of my mentors, Rob Bell, advises me to do.

Life is about much more than our net worth, our fears, our preoccupation with personal safety and our addictions to smartphones and busyness. I long for connection on a deep, true level. I love encouragement, appreciation and kindness, both giving these things away and receiving them back. If I want more of this, then I have to pursue it, without fearing the consequences.

5 Minutes of Encouragement could be a beautiful social experiment. It could also be a flaming turd of a failure. I won’t know unless I try. I’m grateful for a friend at our town office who is willing to gamble on this venture with me. When I pitched it to her last week, I said, “I’ve got this crazy idea – any chance you want to try it?” Bless her heart, she said, “I like encouragement. Let’s give it a shot!”

Part of being alive is pushing ourselves beyond the predictable. When we commit to staying true to our interests and convictions, wonderful surprises await. Risk is a large piece of the equation. We have to be equally prepared for failure as for success.

We live in a world where almost everyone is shouting. Social media posts, selfies, blogs, tweets – most of it screams, “Look at me!” I’m desperate for some one-on-one interaction, driven by kind words of encouragement. Often I just want another flesh-and-blood person to tell me I’m doing okay and that I’m going to make it through.

With my 5 Minutes of Encouragement tent, I’m hoping to give this away to others. I’ll be sure to report back. Would you come to hear 5 Minutes of Encouragement from me (or from anyone)?

For Those in Need of Encouragement

For Those in Need of Encouragement

From time to time, we can all use some encouragement, even if we have to give it to ourselves. Life can beat us down, or we can be cruel to our own precious selves, and we are in need of a pick-me-up.

One of my favourite quotes from Rumi is, “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” Everything we need is already inside of us, curled tight in the bud, simply waiting for the right conditions to bloom and blossom. I firmly believe this to be true. But sometimes the wait is so long and we begin to lose hope that a miracle is, in fact, underway.

For those in need of encouragement If you’ve been too afraid to try for something you want, now is the time. Don’t wait. You are more powerful and capable than you know. So much beauty resides in you, waiting to catch flame and burn brightly out in the world.

Step out and take the risk that scares you most. Believe that the net will be there when you leap. We hold ourselves back far more than circumstances or other people do. It’s time to try for it, to cease shrinking back, to grasp what you are longing for.

Look around for those who can help you. Who do you find inspiring? Spend time with them. Watch and learn. Be amazed. Refuse to sell yourself short by being with the small-minded, critical, angry people. You deserve better company, so go make it happen.

If you feel rushed and stressed, slow down and simplify. Take a garbage bag around the rooms you live in and get rid of unnecessary clutter. Don’t keep things “just in case”. If it creates physical mess, it also adds to your psychic junk pile. Clear it away and experience the freedom of less. My new life mantra is: It’s better to want less than to have more.

Know that you are good enough. Not someday, when you achieve some mythical level of success or an ever-changing dollar amount in your retirement fund, but NOW. In this moment. If everything you need is inside of you, all you have to do is claim it. Experience the happiness and contentment that comes from knowing that who you are is already valuable beyond measure.

It’s in you. It is you. The answers are not out in the world, they are in your own identity, and they are not what you think they should be. It’s okay. Breathe deep and do your level best to let go of the drama, fear, stress and horseshit around you. Go inward, for that is where your peace and love reside. You’ve had it all along – now the task is to clear away the noise and clutter in order to access it.

The Shift

The Shift

When a shift in how we understand something happens, it’s often unsettling. It’s a private thing, especially at first, because it takes time to understand what’s changed and until we get clearer, we find it hard to talk about it.

This is a normal part of change, but I really do hate it. I’m trying to come to terms with that off-putting sensation of not quite belonging anywhere. I feel like I’m at odds with myself when I’m sorting through these rough patches. The work is all internal and therefore not easy to categorize or understand, and so a certain loneliness tinges the entire process.

I love the epiphany itself and I’ve been through this enough to know that the eventual result will be worth it. But that damn middle section is a huge pain.

the shiftIt helps to realize that privately nurturing these small seeds of growth is both valuable and important. It’s part of the process. The challenging bit is seeing the world in a different way, but still living as if the epiphany hadn’t occurred. It requires patience to manage these shifts in understanding. We have to be gentle with ourselves, the way we would treat a child going through a major transition.

I get trapped up in the middle sections of change. I feel lost, bereft, alone. It’s easy to feel misunderstood, like the ground is no longer solid under your feet but it’s not quite clear where your next step should take you.

I know that something big is happening for me in these uncertain places. I’ve been here before and I’m certain I’ll be here again. Anyone willing to risk by growing and changing will feel some of this unsettled discomfort. It’s the stretch before the new thing fully reveals itself. It gets dark in this unfamiliar terrain, with accusing doubts whispered into your ear. “Who are you to try for this? No one else thinks this is a good idea! If this was so great, more people would be on board.”

When we make decisions based on what other people might say, we are sunk before we get moving. It’s a losing game, and I know this, but far too often I start to play it when the doubts get loud. The key is to stay the course, to allow the passion to ignite into flame, to tamp down the fear and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

It’s okay to be the only one who initially believes in something. The rest of the world is busy with their own stuff. If it brings life to your soul and hope to your spirit, pursue it. Make your way bravely through the middle ground of the shift. Fight the insecurity and the doubt. Emerge on the other side, into the sun, knowing that you will never be the same. That alone is enough reward.

In the Game

In the Game

This week, I’m presenting my seminar, It’s On You: Taking Responsibility for your Choices, to 125 students in grades 6-8. It’s new material, and I’m not as familiar presenting to teens and tweens as I am to younger kids or to adults.

So it was a growing edge. We all have these, if we are challenging ourselves. I love Rob Bell’s reminder that “butterflies are good because they mean you are in the game.”

When something seems hard, that often means it’s worth doing. The reward is in the risk. You step out, unsure of the outcome, believing that when the chips are down, you will have what you need to complete the task.

In the GameI used to overthink everything. My mind would race ahead, attempting to cover every possible zig and zag, producing nothing but anxiety and despair. For this seminar, I decided to try putting my energy into my own confidence instead of all the eventualities that I cannot control.

I prepared, to the best of my ability, by going through the slides and recording my delivery so I could listen to it and fix the problem areas. I went for long walks and imagined myself relaxed and happy when in front of the students. I asked a few specific friends to encourage me leading up to the presentation – to cheer me on and remind me that I was up to the challenge.

Every one of these things helped to make the seminar a success. Planning, positive visualization, and organized cheerleading. When we step out in vulnerability, asking for what we need for a challenge we are facing, we can better prepare for a happy outcome.

I just read Jenny Lawson’s hilarious book, Furiously Happy, and author Neil Gaiman gives her this piece of advice when she had to record her audiobook: “Pretend you’re good at it.” I found that to be helpful on the morning of my first seminar. It’s like playing a trick; pulling the wool over people’s eyes by acting as if I was a polished, confident speaker when really my stomach was jumping up and down before I got up to speak.

My first slide in It’s On You is about cutting the tie that connects your inner sense of value with your outside performance. It feels healthy to practice this skill myself. To know that I am worthy of love and care, whether I deliver a successful seminar or fall flat on my face (or somewhere in between).

The risk is the reward. It helps us grow, to shoot for more the next time around, to bank up our trust in our abilities and skills. We simply do the very best we can, knowing that it’s better by far to have tried than to give in to our fear and back down from a challenge. It’s enough just to be in the game.