Vulnerability

Vulnerability.

I hate it, hate it, hate it. I want to stay in my safe spot – the place where I know what will happen next, even if “next” is something horrible. Isn’t the known better than the unknown? Maybe. Maybe not.

 

I think what occurs, at least for me, is that when moving from the known to the unknown, when we dare to do something differently, we put ourselves into that vast land called Uncertainty. There can be so much discomfort there, we go to great lengths to avoid it. Even if it means staying stuck. Even if it means continuing to hurt.

Am I am the person who cries, “I don’t want a shot,” or the patient who, sitting in the dentist’s office says, “I’ll schedule that root canal later”? My avoidance is akin to saying, “I know I might get the flu, and that’s okay.” “I know I may get an infection in my mouth, and that’s okay.” I avoid the known pain, gambling it won’t get worse, thereby preventing potential relief, comfort, protection, security.

Being complacent is a choice. It’s an agreement to stew in stagnant waters. It’s a decision to accept the status quo even though <your situation>. Expecting change without doing things differently is not hope; it is a delusion. Hope is being at the cusp of vulnerability and taking the next step. And who knows? Maybe in taking that step you will find yourself enveloped in warmth and comfort and love. I hope you’ll try.

There is a difference between vulnerability and telling people everything about yourself. Vulnerability is a feeling. Telling everyone about yourself is just facts and details.  -Simon Sinek

I spent a lot of years trying to outrun or outsmart vulnerability by making things certain and definite, black and white, good and bad. My inability to lean into the discomfort of vulnerability limited the fullness of those important experiences that are wrought with uncertainty: Love, belonging, trust, joy, and creativity to name a few.  -Brene Brown

Baby steps, okay?