Category Archives: Vulnerability

What if..we could gracefully give ourselves time as needed in the challenges of life?

what if we could gracefully give ourselves time as needed How long does it take to grieve a loved one who has died?

How long does it take to grieve an ending relationship?

How long does it take to make a career change?

How long does it to take move and settle in to a new city?

How long does it take to have cancer?

Often language implies there is both timing and an ending to these types of challenging life scenarios.

“You’ll be better in no time!”

“Give it a week and you should be back to normal.”

“You’ve been sick/grieving/grumpy/sad for long enough now.” Likely followed by a “Get over it.”

“I imagine you can have a new job and be settled within 6 months.”

Many of our corporate policies incorporate timelines and endings as well.

Three days of bereavement leave.

Two weeks of sick leave.

Six months of extended disability leave.

A month of accommodation benefits as part of a moving allowance.

These messages have us believing we can measure and monitor the events of our lives based on some chronological, prescribed time window.

Your body, mind, and spirit have their own sense of time.

The more work I do facilitating bereavement groups, the more I appreciate that the journey of grief takes as long as it takes. One thing I know for sure – we do not “get over” or “get through” a significant loss in 3 days.

When I think of my Grandmother who died six years ago it is always bitter sweet. Seeing a cookbook on my shelf that reminds me of her – a sweet memory – is often linked with a jolt of sadness – that I can no longer call her. That burst of grief is very real and while I no longer grieve her as I once did, I’m not “over her”, I still grieve from time to time.

And healing from my spinal fusion surgery – depending on how you want to measure it 6 weeks or years. My back pain sparked a period of deep introspection and I began healing my spirit before the actual surgery. My scar healed in a matter of weeks. It took at least a year for the bones to fuse. It took many moons for my body to begin to realize that when I was invited to an event, such as going to see an art exhibit, it didn’t have to go into resistance and protection mode. It wasn’t going to hurt any more, but parts of me weren’t aligned with that yet. How long does rewiring chronic pain take?

What if we could gracefully give ourselves the time needed in the challenges of life?

There are two Greek works for time – chronos and kairos.

“Chronos is clocks, deadlines, watches, calendars, agendas, planners, schedules, beepers. Chronos is time at her worst. Chronos keeps track. …Chronos is the world’s time. Kairos is transcendence, infinity, reverence, joy, passion, love, the Sacred. Kairos is intimacy with the Real. Kairos is time at her best. …Kairos is Spirit’s time. We exist in chronos. We long for kairos. That’s our duality. Chronos requires speed so that it won’t be wasted. Kairos requires space so that it might be savored. We do in chronos. In kairos we’re allowed to be … It takes only a moment to cross over from chronos into kairos, but it does take a moment. All that kairos asks is our willingness to stop running long enough to hear the music of the spheres.”

― Sarah Ban Breathnach

While I don’t necessarily agree that chronos is time at her worst – when scheduling an appointment for example, I’m glad there is a way to represent that in quantitative time – I do believe chronos time can be counter productive. Applying a time measurement to many aspects of life can set us up to hold ourselves to a standard that is not real, rather it is arbitrary. It can also feel like trying to live to a moving target.

Tool: How about stepping into life changes, growth, and healing without strict timelines? Rather than a focus on chronos time, how about exploring kairos time? It is not about speed. It is about being human. It is about allowing. It is about alignment. It is about knowing we have arrived, when we have arrived, not by the date on the calendar.

So the next time someone tells you how to heal faster, or says “You should be over it by now,” gently let them know you are gracefully living by kairos time.

Text and Images Copyright © Dr. Catherine Hajnal 2015. All rights reserved.

Living Your Dash

I can’t remember when I first heard about the poem The Dash by Linda Ellis. What I do know is that every time I read it I renew my desire to live my life on purpose – to continue to do work that feeds my soul, to do one thing a day that scares me (encouraging my evolution), to step into the emotions that feel difficult or uncomfortable, to let the good stuff sink in including expressing gratitude and love, and to see the possibility in whatever is showing up in my life.

Here’s the general gist of the poem. (I encourage you to read it in its entirety here.) On a tombstone there is a beginning date and an end date. In between those two dates is a dash. That tiny dash represents the fullness of your life. The question the poem raises is what do you want to do with your dash?

The intention here is not to instill fear of the end-date (the second date on your tombstone). Stirring up panic and a sense of scarcity of time is not the vibe I personally want to have clouding my dash. The reality however is we generally don’t know when our end-date is coming. We imagine living a long and fruitful life and yet anything could happen.

Here’s the approach I’ve taken. I’ve asked myself what do I want to be doing now so that if I found out I was terminally ill and going to die within a month or two I would have some degree of ease because I had been living my life on purpose, because I had been making choices in awareness of the reality of not knowing when the end will come. I don’t think it is possible to live without regret (the words that come of my mouth some times – yeesh!), yet I do think it is possible to minimize regret through actions like vulnerability, compassion, empathy, and a willingness to ask for re-do’s or acknowledge mistakes.

Do the people you love and who matter the most to you know it through your words and actions?

Is the work you are doing feeling your spirit – does it make your heart sing?

Are you learning from and in the discomfort that life gives?

Are you being gentle with yourself? Do you acknowledge your self-worth?

Are you having fun?

I ask these questions not to invoke shame or a sense of “not enough”, rather they are invitations to reflect on how you are living your dash. You are worthy and enough no matter how you are living your dash. AND you have agency in how you live your dash. I realize sometimes it can feel like you have anything but power and possibility in your life. This is the gentle reminder that there is always choice. That you can bring “creator” energy to your daily life.

Dream like you’ll life forever. Live as if you’ll die tomorrow. ~James Dean

I’ll be speaking on this topic on Sunday February 23rd as part of the service at the Centre For Spiritual Living Vancouver. Please join me if you are interested in reflecting on how you live your dash. [11 AM Creekside Community Centre, Olympic Village, Vancouver]

Doing or Saying One Thing A Day That Scares You

With all the writing in the popular press about the New Year and setting resolutions, intentions, or defining goals I couldn’t help stopping to reflect on how I treat the start of the new year. I do use it a time of reflection – to stop and look back over the past year and to launch a few intentions, dreams and desires for 2014. The reality is I do this type of reflecting regularly. It’s about living my life on purpose. I stop and ask myself what it means for me in this moment to be “on purpose”. The New Year is a spark to step into that reflection.

Because I’m reflecting regularly, the outcome is often to renew or reshape some intention I have expressed before. For example one intention I keep coming back to is Do One Thing a Day That Scares Me. Here’s why…

That intention has inspired me to be vulnerable. To speak my truth. To express my gifts. To let people know they matter to me. In summary – to take risks that come from revealing an inner part of myself. It has indeed been scary. And wonderful!

When I set that intention at the beginning of 2011 part of me had ideas like bungee jumping and other physical activities in mind. I had begun reading the work of Brené Brown on vulnerability and shame and I had been studying Non-Violent Communication for a few years, endeavouring to put it into practice. I came to realize what I had to say and how I reached out for connection – that I reached out for connection period! – were some of the scariest things I could ever do. Do one thing a day that scares me and Say one thing a day that scares me became interchangeable.

It meant noticing when I hesitated to make a phone call to a potential client, reminding myself of my intention, and then going for it even though I was scared. It meant submitting proposals for workshops and risking the rejection. It meant telling the people I love that I love them. It meant having conversations with a friend with cancer when I was anxious about saying the “wrong” thing. In all of these cases it could have been easier, less anxious, indeed less scary to just not do anything.

So why did I do them? Because I had set an intention? Is that what motivated me? I set my intention because I was curious about discovering what holds me back in my life. As I stepped further into that exploration, I discovered that a rather persistent voice was present. It was so persistent is was almost like white noise. I didn’t realize it was always there, the default station playing on my inner radio. And its public service or should I say dis-service message was “I am not enough.”

It is the voice of shame. It is the voice that can have me feeling “less than”. It is the voice that believes I won’t find connection, that I won’t be liked, that I won’t belong because of some aspect of self. Powerfully un-empowering stuff!

And so what did I do with this discovery? In Catherine world I read books on the subject and I take workshops. And I talk to my “digestors” – a small group of people with whom I feel a sense of safety and being held. (More on this group in a future post and why you might want to consider having such a group too.) My curiosity drives my learning and growth. My digestors give me the space to express what is percolating for me in that learning and growth process. They listen. They provide empathy. And when asked, they offer ideas, possibilities, advice, solutions. Through all of that I integrate. I endeavour to be gentle with myself. I move forward.

I’ve learned a great deal about shame and vulnerability in these last few years. Whatever I learn about myself becomes part of the work that I offer to the world. It is why I love being a Life Coach. I get to keep working on me (which even with its trials and tribulations I have a thirst to do) and then share that learning with my clients.

I hope you are seeing the value in stopping to reflect and launching your intentions, dreams, and desires. They can be an amazing catalyst for what comes next in your life. So I invite you to reflect on what it means to be “on purpose” in your own life. And why not consider doing one thing a day that scares you in the coming months? Wonder where it might take you…

To facilitate your journey I have a few offerings coming up that might be of interest:

1) Four consecutive Monday evenings – a program on vulnerability and shame for men through Manology beginning on January 13th, 2014. We look at that voice of “I am not enough” and how to strengthen the voice of “I am enough.” We’ll walk the bridge of shame resilience.

2) A one day workshop entitled “Life is One Big Improv” on March 8, 2014. This will be an interactive workshop that will blend theory with practice. We’ll explore shame and vulnerability concepts and then use a variety activities including improvisational theatre techniques as a way to try that learning on. An opportunity to discover where you hold yourself back – an opportunity to do one thing (or two) that scares you! A day to celebrate being enough.

More details can be found on my Schedule page.

Warmly and purposefully,

Catherine

No Regrets

It seems that as we approach the end of our lives we have regrets.

I’ve read many books that talked to people who are nearing the end of their lives either because of terminal illness or age. A common theme is having regrets.

Regrets come in all shapes and sizes –

wishing you had said no when you said yes
wishing you had said yes when you said no
wishing you had resolved that problem with a particular person
wishing you had told that person how you felt about him/her
wishing you had jumped, taken the risk, when instead you hesitated

The list could go on. For the most part regrets are about wishing you had taken an action – whether it is to do or say something – an action different than the one you took.

I try and live my life without regret. I ask myself with some regularity “If I were to die tomorrow, how do I feel about the choices I’ve made to this moment?” And then I notice how I feel as I ponder my answer. I have to say that right now I’m noticing some not so good feelings – those feelings are telling me I have to take some different actions.

I did take some action today. I wrote am email I’ve been putting off doing for several days – am email that might well lead to the end of an intimate relationship. Yet now if tomorrow never comes, I shared some things I needed to share. And it wasn’t about yelling, being angry, or about wishing for something different. It was about taking responsibility for my own feelings and asking to hear about theirs.

And there is some other action I need to take. Another friend is, I believe, hanging at the moment because I haven’t responded. I’ve been avoiding – it feels easier in this moment. Yet the idea of tomorrow not coming leaves me with a bad flavour in my mouth if I am to leave things with this friend the way they currently stand. It is not a big deal, but it is about speaking my truth and sometimes that can feel vulnerable and scary. So I’m inviting myself to step into that scary, to be vulnerable, to speak my truth, and know that shifts my feeling of regret.

A person recently asked me “Can you really get to the end and not have regrets?” I don’t know. I’m certainly willing to put the energy into my life, to live it on purpose, to be vulnerable, to speak my truth, and find out. How about you?

Telling A Different Story

I was reminded recently about the power of reframing. Reframing is when you tell a different story, a re-interpretation of some aspect or event in your life. Mine had to do with clearing out my storage locker. I have been wanting (and sort of not wanting) to make it happen for a few months now. I recently signed the piece of paper that says I’ll have the space clear for June 1. Signing was the way for me to “force” my hand – to create that deadline to move me into action. Here’s the general story I was telling:

I don’t want to deal with clearing out my storage locker. This going to be painful. How am I going to make this happen? This is going to be a hassle putting things online to sell, coordinating with people, meeting them at my storage locker, negotiating (if anybody even wants to buy anything), yeesh! Am I going to have to ask someone to help me? I can’t be in the locker and meeting someone at the entrance to the building at the same time. And what if I can’t get rid of anything? What will I do then? How I will get rid of what remains? It won’t fit in my car. I don’t want to just take it all to landfill. That’s not very considerate of the environment. I’ve got a deadline now. Why did I do that? Why didn’t I do a better job at getting rid of this stuff when I made my last move? I’ve been paying rent on this locker for a few months now – that’s money out the window given the low value of everything in it. I love some of that stuff. Part of me is really sad to see it go.

In the world of NVC, most of this would be labelled Jackal voice. The voice that is judgmental, critical, and generally not positive. Sometimes that voice speaks very loudly in my head. It brings me down. It zaps my energy to the point that sometimes I feel unable to muster up the motivation to even start a project. In this instance I was motivated because I’m trying to manage my budget differently right now and there was no way to justify what I was spending on the storage. It just didn’t make sense to hold on to the stuff for economic or sentimental reasons. Yet I was still having a hard time making this project happen.

Sometimes it is about taking one step. Getting a small “win” – trying something that is successful in its outcome. Small steps for me included getting into the storage locker and taking some pictures of things I wanted to sell along with some dimensions. I had a friend offer to help me with this so in the first round of picture taking I was supported. It ended up being another month’s worth of locker rental fees before I actually did something with those pictures, but having them in hand along with the support of a friend was a first step.

Then I started telling more friends about what I was trying to do – clear out my locker. I would tell them about what I had in there with the hopes that maybe a friend or two would take some of the stuff off my hands. That felt like it would be an easier way for it to unfold. Through that process I did pass on a few things. That meant I went to the locker a few times and some items actually came out. Another set of small steps.

With a few small steps under my belt I found some spaciousness over the whole thing. I was still in a grumbly frame of mind about it, but I also began to sense a light at the end of the tunnel. I began to feel like I might be able to make it happen. I knew I still needed a strong kick of something to really make me do it. For me that was signing the paper that said I would be out – and that my payments would be no more!

And then a friend came and took a few more things that created more spaciousness in the locker and in my sense of well-being. Yet another small step. With the literal space in the locker I was able to take more pictures and get the dimensions of some items. It was time to post the items online. Still resistance, but now a looming deadline.

I had tired to sell something on Craigslist a few months ago, and as I think about that, I realize it was one of my very first steps toward clearing out my storage locker. I wasn’t even selling something that was in storage at that time – it was something I had in my apartment – it served to help me see that I could sell something online and that it didn’t have to be too painful. Setting up the ad had been quick and kind of fun.

I took the next bold step of putting up a bunch of ads on Craigslist – descriptions, dimensions, and pictures of my goodies. I even chose to put some of the history – the sentiment – of the pieces in the ads, and I chose to acknowledge the pieces I was sad to see go.

Within about 15 minutes of placing the ads the first call came in. Metal garden ornament – “I’ll take it. Could we meet in about 45 minutes for the handoff?” More emails and phone calls on that one. It was gone already. In one of the phone calls the woman said she too had lived in the prairies (part of the sentiment I had included in my ad) and could see how the ornament would remind me of that. The man who made the first call and was the one who bought it off me was tickled pink to be buying it for his wife who was away. He knew she would enjoy it so it would be a surprise for her when she got home. He was recently retired and still figuring out what to do with his time.

And then the island/storage unit – the piece I was most worried about due to its size. It also had a lot of sentimental value, so was one of hardest for me to let go. A young couple were moving into a new apartment. They had recently finished school and were looking to furnish their new place. I enjoyed them so much I even threw in a carpet was I going to give to a thrift store.

“I sit on the sofa and work on my computer, but the coffee table is too low and it’s hurting my back. I think this desk with wheels will work well.” Off went the small yet functional metal desk.

Can you feel how my energy has shifted? My story started with this very negative voice. I’m currently in the energy of really enjoying this project. Sure, it has had some hassles. What I hadn’t appreciated was the really lovely people I might meet along the way. I haven’t had a lot of emails and phone calls, but I didn’t need to have a lot. Each of the people I spoken with bought something and each of them was delightful to connect with. Hmmmm – why didn’t I start with that story – a story of the possibility of fun, adventure, connection?

Here’s where the self-empathy part fits in. That jackal voice earlier was some fear talking. A lovely part of each of us – that fear voice that is there to keep us each safe. I was walking into uncharted territory. I’ve never had to clear out a storage locker before. Lots of unknown and uncertainty means my needs for control and clarity flare up – unmet in that moment. My need to appear competent – triggered by the voice of “What if I can’t make it work?” – was flaring up too.

I’ve been reminded of some lessons I’ve heard before and I guess I needed to hear and experience again.

The first is to take small steps. It is okay to be tentative, dipping in a big toe – trying something – without having to figure out it all out. This includes being gentle with self – with whatever approach I might need to take and to give myself time. Yes, sometimes things/projects will take longer than I want them to.

Second, when I’m in that negative, jackal voice, here’s a open invitation to try a different story, or at least play with the “What if…” story. What if the project could unfold with ease? What if I could have some fun? What if it could mean I meet some really interesting people? What if I could own being sad to see some of the stuff go and give myself permission to grieve? What if it is a bit scarey and that’s okay too?

I’m amazed at how different my reality has turned out to be from the story I first started with. I’m delighted to report the new story. I’m reminded of the power of story and how noticing my story and inviting a new one has the power to change what might be labelled a negative energy story into something very positive.

And finally I’m reminded of the power of sharing our stories. When we keep things bottled inside, it can often continue to feed our negative cycles. Even if the first story we are telling is a negative one, tell it any way. As I shared my story and began to get support with friends – those were the seeds of shifting my energy and being able to paint a new story.

What stories are you telling right now that aren’t feeling good? How might you be able to tell those stories a little differently? Start small – give yourself some permission to “What if…”. Give yourself permission to have a different story. Give yourself permission to find a story that feels better. Whatever your story, share it with your friends.

P.S. As of June 1, the storage locker is empty and I’m no longer making payments!

The Other Side of Hope

Hope. Hopelessness. Two sides of the same coin?

I’ve been thinking about hope recently, inspired by a book I just finished reading entitled Lessons For The Living: Stories of Forgiveness, Gratitude and Courage at the End of Life by Stan Goldberg. Stan is a cancer survivor and volunteers in a hospice. He brings what he has learned from these experiences into the book.

Here’s an excerpt from his chapter entitled “The Dilemma of Hope.”

Poof! Not only did hope disappear, but as I looked back on who I became during the intervening time between the onset of hope and learning that my dream wasn’t going to be fulfilled, it wasn’t pleasant realizing that I had allowed hope to let the new me slip away. People often contrast hope with hopelessness, as if the former is always positive and the latter always negative. It’s a false dichotomy based on a simplistic understanding of the role of hope. For Joyce [a hospice patient], hope prevented her from living in the present and appreciating the marvelous things she had accomplished. For me, hope transformed the scientist and humanist in me into someone who put all faith on the throw of the dice. Worse, for eighteen months it robbed me of being more genuine with the people I loved.

The absence of hope isn’t a negative state. The disappearance of hope put me squarely into the present…I no longer invest energy in hoping that the cancer will remain under control — I’m too busy living.

Past, present, future. We need all of them. Sometimes looking at the past enables us to reframe it so that we can live in the present. So that those hooks of past experiences don’t weigh us down, rather they inspire us to go forth in our lives. And sometimes those memories from the past bring us great joy in the present as we remember a fun adventure or a now past loved. And yet we can’t live in those past stories, we live here. Now. In the present moment.

Hope takes us, me, to the future. I want hope. I want hope that things can be different. It is part of what inspires me. I help people connect with their own answers in the belief that they can achieve something different for their next moment. That’s hope. Maybe it is even beyond, more, deeper than hope.

At the same time I don’t want hope to take me out of connecting with this moment – of seeing what is in front of me right here, right now. Of being with what is.

I can also feel an edge to hope – the edge that says I want something different and yet I have to consider it might not happen. If I know it will happen, then it is knowing, belief – beyond hope.

I’m reflecting on hope in the context of a good friend of mine who is living with a lot of pain right now. I so hope for him to be pain free. There it is – that edge of hope that says maybe he’ll never be pain free. In the present moment I find myself having to let in his pain and that’s uncomfortable for me. It hurts to see someone I care about in pain. Having hope seems easier. It takes me out of having to fully accept his reality in this moment. It enables me to side step the depth of my own emotions.

So if I don’t have hope, is it hopeless? No. Hopeless feels dark and I don’t feel dark. There is a deeper knowing here that regardless of what tomorrow brings, I’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. It may not be pretty, but it will be okay. It will be what that moment of life brings.

So perhaps the other side of hope, as Stan suggests is presence. And perhaps it is belief, knowing. Surrendering to what is.

Spinach Between My Teeth

Have you ever been to a two hour meeting where you met a bunch of new people, laughed, and shared stores and then upon arriving home from said meeting realized you had spinach between your front teeth the whole time?

Yup. Just had that experience.

First feelings – mortification, embarrassment. Convinced they think I’m an idiot – ah that warm wash of shame that says “I’m not good enough.” My needs for belonging, connection, acceptance, acknowledgment, competence – absolutely not being met in that first instance of seeing dinner’s spinach pizza between my teeth.

Why didn’t anyone say anything?

Yes, truly, why don’t people say anything? I spoke to several new people that evening and no one said anything. It is interesting to consider the “spinach between the teeth” scenario from their perspective. So let me put myself in their shoes by considering what happens to me when I encounter someone who has spinach (or some other visible food item) between their teeth. Here are the some of the voices in my head I can recall from a recent “incident”:

Do I tell them they have spinach between their teeth? I don’t want to interrupt them. Gosh this could feel embarrassing. I don’t want to embarrass them. How do I do this discretely?

What I’m noticing in my body as I type those sentences is my discomfort. Discomfort triggered by thoughts of their discomfort and it is my own discomfort that stops me from saying anything. I don’t want to risk having to be present for their discomfort. How paradoxical! Rather than step in and potentially easily resolve, I hold back, shut down in a way and experience my discomfort rather than theirs.

So I’m imaging all those people who were talking with me were experiencing their own discomfort with my spinach.

What to do?

Step in to whatever is alive for you. I advocate that for both the Spinachee and the Noticer. So in the first instance for Spinach Smile Me I get to once again practice self-connecting and offering some self-empathy. My first reactions were just that, my first reactions – the embarrassment, the shame. Triggered by my lovely needs – the desire to connect, the desire to be perceived as competent. The desire to be noticed – to be seen – not for my spinach but for who I truly am. And isn’t it possible that the conversations I had were worthy, engaging, connecting – with or without spinach!?!

And for the Noticer Me – the one who is staring (or trying not to) at the spinach in someone else’s teeth – I can step into that discomfort too. Sure, it might be a little awkward to point out the spinach. Those are my thoughts of how it might be – it doesn’t actually have to be. Why not try it? I can notice my discomfort, love myself for being concerned about how my words might impact the other and go forth anyway. It could be as simple as:

“I’m just going to quickly mention you have some spinach between your teeth.”

“Oh. Gosh, would hate to get home and discover it in the mirror myself tonight. Grateful you mentioned it. What was I saying about…”

Fear of Success

I’m presently listening to the book entitled The Four Spiritual Laws of Prosperity: A Simple Guide to Unlimited Abundance by Edwene Gaines. I’ve explored prosperity principles in my own life for a while now and have come to appreciate that having less can feel like more. In this exact moment I make less money than I have in a long time and yet my life feels richer, fuller, and more rewarding than ever. That said, there is still work to be done.

Edwene describes prosperity as:

a healthy body
relationships that work all the time
work that you love
money – all you can spend

Over the past 4 years I’ve put loads of energy into getting healthy, finding work that I love – my purpose – and learning tools for and stretching myself in relationship. My study of vulnerability, Non-Violent Communication, Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction, Improvisational Theatre, Interpersonal Neurobiology – all of these inform the work I do, my relationship with my Self, and how I show up and am in relationship with others. My learning, the journey, will never end yet I can look back over the last four years and acknowledge and celebrate that I am not where I was. I DO FEEL HAPPY and it does not feel phoney to say LIFE IS GOOD!

And yet…

Financially I’m anxious. And when I get to the core of it, I see clearly that it is ME holding ME back. There is a fear of stepping fully into this life I say I want. I get scared when I think of being successful. I feel overwhelmed. What if it doesn’t work out that way I’m envisioning? I’ve been a do it all myself kind of gal and yet I know I can’t do it all myself to realize the dreams I have. I will need to depend on other people. I will need to ask for help. Yikes!

We humans are genius at our own games. We have something called defense mechanisms – ways to stay safe – or so we lead ourselves to believe. So in my fear of success my defense mechanism that comes into play is to keep myself out of the game. If I don’t step into the game, then I can’t lose. I can’t be proven wrong. I can’t feel disappointed. The irony is that I still feel disappointed. I still feel like I am losing – a sense of being unfulfilled.

And this in turn is tied to my belief (or lack there of) in self. Yup, we’re back to shame and vulnerability again. Self-doubt can be crippling. I know. I live it quite regularly. We deserve, I deserve to prosper. I am not a bad person if I am financially successful because really, can I be bad person for sharing my gifts?

So I’m working on my fear of success, or as Edwene suggests, I’m expanding my bliss tolerance. I’m letting those visions of a successful me dance around in my head. I’m regularly saying aloud this quote from Marianne Williamson about letting my light shine.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
― Marianne Williamson, Return to Love

And as I review her words, I’m reminded that we are all worthy. That what I want for others, their own peace, happiness, contentment, calls me forth to be my fullest self, to step into the idea of successfully sharing my gifts.

So I start where I often do – with some self-compassion. I acknowledge my fear of success. At the same time, I step into envisioning success and creating feelings of success in my body. And I try stuff. I schedule a meeting to share my ideas. I schedule a workshop. I make an ask for help. And as I do all of these things, I see that I am okay. I see that yes, I can do it. Everyday another step towards a successful, prosperous life and a step towards believing even more fully in self and that which guides me.

Vulnerability x 2

I’m a follower of NVC – Non-Violent Communication. Part of “following” NVC is my own practice and it is tapping into the network of folks who are committed to NVC in their own lives/work. One of the things/people I follow in that context is Miki Kashtan’s blog – Recently she posted about types of Vulnerability. Here’s an excerpt:

That was the point when the bigger surprise came. After listening to me, my friend, who’s known me for years, brought to my attention a third way in which interacting with me can be challenging. I hadn’t remembered that I often make it quite challenging for people to give me love and care unless it comes in “just so” forms which only few people ever find. While I have known this, and know where this protection originated in my childhood, I hadn’t until that day related it to my path of vulnerability. Suddenly, I saw the paradox: how could it be that after almost 16 years of being on that path it was still difficult for me to receive care in other forms than the precise ones that my organism favors? That’s when I understood that my path of vulnerability has been on my terms: I come out, by my volition, and “undefend” myself. I express myself and willingly accept consequences. This is only one side of vulnerability. I’ve not yet even begun exploring what cultivating receptive rather than volitional vulnerability would look like. I’ve had a couple of small experiences that have given me pointers to what this could be. One such experience showed me that this kind of vulnerability is about letting go of a certain kind of holding, allowing the world to “catch” me, and taking the risk that I might “fall” and there would be nothing to land on. A far greater risk to this organism than ridicule or lack of acceptance. It’s about stepping, once again and beyond infancy, into the experience of being at the mercy of others. It’s about a form of deep surrender I’ve only experienced fleetingly. Just as much as I wanted to reclaim my vulnerability when I started my path, I can almost feel the yearning to find my place, to rest in the grand scheme of things, to be part of, not so separate, not so alone.

Vulnerability is one of theme’s in my own life – indeed is a “category” for my blog! But I had not thought about the two dimensions to vulnerability that Miki mentions – receptive and volitional vulnerability. And I have talked in the past about wanting to be a better receiver – that by deflecting/pushing away/making light of – what others want to give to me, I am taking away their opportunity to be a giver. I want to be both a good giver and receiver. So when I read Miki’s blog post, I was stuck once again by the significance of receiving and by this new idea that receiving is another face of vulnerability.

As with most aspects of life, any opportunity for reframing is usually an opportunity for learning and integrating. It is helpful for me to think of receiving as an aspect of my vulnerability. So there is comfort in knowing that as I work on my vulnerability I might also be enhancing my capacity to receive.

The invitation now is to direct some of my attention to receptive vulnerability – to finding some spaciousness around what I let in – surrendering to what might come my way that doesn’t arrive in a “package” I’m used to. When I launch a rocket of desire – something/someone/some idea that I’m wanting to manifest in my life I often add “this or something better, something that serves my higher good.” Feeling like even more can come into my purview now as I practice receptive vulnerability.

How are you at giving with vulnerability and receiving with vulnerability?

Take It Personally

Here’s the scenario:

I’ve sent emails out to two different friends who are important in my life and have not had a response from either of them. For one friend the norm is to hear back the very day I send the email. It is now three days later. For the other friend, I’ve been sending emails for a few months now with no response and phone calls haven’t lead me anywhere either.

My first response, or perhaps better said, reaction, is to assume I have done something wrong. What did I say or do that has resulted in them not wanting to talk to/connect with me? This is my default shame reaction where I take things personally and I ground them in my sense of a “less-than” self.

I’m a little older and wiser now with all the work I have done on myself these least few years so I can at least see going to that shame place. I usually can’t stop myself from going there, yet now that I see myself going there I have options. With awareness comes choice.

I remind myself that yes, I may have been a trigger for that person in some way, but I get to give their reaction back to them. I get to be responsible for my own feelings and they get to be responsible for theirs. So in actuality I do get to take it personally, just my own personal, I get to look at what is coming up for me.

That “own personal” attention is for me a form of self-empathy. I get to acknowledge my feelings and explore what is behind them – my needs. Just as valid as my whatever may be transpiring for my friends. I have a direct line into me.

So what is coming up for me? I’m sad these friends have not replied back. And I’m concerned about them on two fronts. One, maybe something is unfolding for them that has absolutely nothing to do with our exchanges. Can I help?

Second, if I have said something to trigger either of them, I would like to know what that is. Perhaps there is a way I can reframe something. Perhaps I’ve been misunderstood. And perhaps it is just going to be a tigger – I might have said something that sounded just like one of their parents and depending on their history, they were transported back there for a while. It can be a bit scarey and vulnerable to step into finding out, but I’m willing to go there. Here, while I’m part of the exchange, I’m not coming from the place of having done something wrong.

What’s behind all of this is are MY needs for connection, belonging, clarity, consideration, and love. And those are beautiful needs. I don’t have to think of myself as “less than” for having those needs. In the past I’ve done an immediate translation to equate anxiousness with the shame response. Now I can see that the anxiousness means some of my needs are not being met. I’m whole, I’m just wanting connection.

So the next time you feel to take something personally, believing that you are somehow at fault, less than, for something, I invite you take it personally – your own personal – and look behind the circumstances. Which of your needs are calling forth?