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What keeps us from showing our vulnerabilities? For me, it’s the fear of being teased or derided or – worst of all – pitied. Better to be on the safe side and keep my true but imperfect self hidden, I reason, rather than expose myself to ridicule.
Sad choice. And one I must now argue against.
While attending a seminar recently, I tangentially learned a thing or two about the power of vulnerability. At one point, the seminar leader instructed us to interact with whoever was nearby. I spoke with the man next to me – a stranger – and thought he was nice enough, but no more than that. Even after our exchange, he remained a sort of blank to me. Soon afterward, we all stood up to clap together to a song, and the man didn’t use his hands normally. He didn’t clap in rhythm and his hands looked a bit deformed. But he clapped with verve, and with a big smile on his face.
In that moment, I loved him. He went from a blank to a role model within the space of a few hand claps. Did I pity him for being different, or judge him to be less-than? No. My immediate and instinctive reaction to seeing him clap was a rushing wave of love mixed with the desire to show my true self to the world as bravely.
Of course, it pays to pick our moments. Because of the type of seminar it was, this man knew he was in a room full of people who were more likely to accept him than, say, a random bus full of city folk. But even then, even when we know the chances are good that we’ll be accepted, how often do we still hold back?
I attended the seminar with a friend. On the third day, I dared to look into her eyes as I cried hard tears from a deep, hurt place, and all I saw on her face was love. No pity. She must have seen in me, in my willingness to bring my truth into the light, the same thing I saw when I looked at the clapping man. It felt amazing and healing to be on the receiving end of that instinctive rush of love.
Paradoxically, when we appropriately expose our vulnerable truth, when we leap into the dare with our weakness exposed, we model strength. And we trigger love.
There’s power in weakness after all.
Flickr photo: Paralympics Wheelchair Basketball Tournament, by Singapore2010
Related reading: Crying and Staying, Pep Talk | Chin Up
<< Important Note >>
The links to Dr. Judith Orloff’s book, Emotional Freedom, in last Thursday’s post were not working correctly. They now are, and they lead to the Emotional Freedom special promotion she’s offering for the book. Please check it out if you’re interested. My apologies!
