Tag: courage

The Risks You Have to Take

Posted in meditation, ParenthoodTagged , , , , , , , , ,

A friend said to me the other day, “I don’t know how you do it.” In this case, “it” was putting my two young kids to bed every night by myself. Of all the tricky parts that come with being a single parent, kids bedtime is definitely high on the list. The answer is that I’ve found a secret power that helps in the tough moments.

Of course, I’m not alone in discovering this – there are many stories about this secret. In Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Indiana is searching for the Holy Grail so that he can heal his father who has been wounded. He’s followed the clues and reaches a chasm that seems uncrossable. He’s scared because of the urgency of his need but he trusts that there is a way across and as he steps into that void, a stone bridge reveals itself. Or Joseph Campbell’s work on the journey of the hero that lays out how the pattern unfolds. The hero spends a great deal of time trying to every way to get to his calling without being vulnerable and then finally, with nothing left to lose, plucks up his courage, steps into vulnerability and only then is able to overcome all the obstacles. Or an interview that I recently heard with Melinda French Gates on Brene Brown’s Unlocking Us podcast, she describes how at one point in her career she didn’t like who she was becoming in the early culture of Microsoft that was very dog-eat-dog and before she quit, she decided to just try being herself and as a result, she found her success. Her comment was “no one talks about how much courage it takes.”

I believe we all reach that point where there is something we are called to do and it doesn’t make any sense. It’s a risk. I, for one, spent a lot of time in that “act two” that Joseph Campbell describes trying to find a way to having a family that didn’t require the vulnerability I felt when I voiced “I’m going to choose to do this on my own.” Which is why I had my kids when I was age 46 and 50. But I can affirm that there is a force that greets us on the other side of taking the risks we are called to take. It feels like less friction because our bodies, minds and souls know they are just where they are supposed to be. It feels like faith, joy and delight all bundled together.

There is an opposite force when we are walking a path not our own. I remember this well from the years I spent married, not wanting kids, not wanting to be there and yet not brave enough to own that truth. It was like packing my soul in bubble wrap and asking it not to participate. My favorite poet and author, Mark Nepo describes what happens when we don’t take the risks we are called to, “Despite the seeming rewards of compliance, our souls grow weary by engaging in activities that are inherently against their nature.”

I don’t tell this to my friend when she makes the comment because she doesn’t need the secret right now. She has a great husband and they parent beautifully together. But when she or anyone else in my life meets the next challenge that asks them to be vulnerable in order to walk their path, I will be right next to their side telling them, “Go ahead. There is help once you step onto that path. I promise! But you have to step first.”

Vulnerability and Courage

Posted in awakeandinspiredTagged , , , ,

“I believe that you have to walk through vulnerability to get to courage.” – Brene Brown

My friend sent me an email the other day that made me feel like the wind was knocked out of me. It said in essence that she was hosting Thanksgiving at her house but we weren’t invited. There are so many ways to explain this away – she didn’t mean it to be hurtful, the pandemic has made gatherings risky so to protect our older generation this is wise and so on. But the fact of middle age is that we very rarely wound each other. Our lives and patterns of communication have solidified so that no one needs to either extend themselves very far nor risk being hurt. It was such a surprise for me to feel so pierced that it threw me and my productivity off kilter for the rest of the afternoon.

I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts about vulnerability. it started with University of Houston research professor Brene Brown but now I’m finding that thread in so much of what I’m reading and listening to. That vulnerability means that we are daring to live out in the open, to try things and to fail, that if marks whether we are doing something meaningful. And by meaningful, I mean meaningful as in measured by personal growth.

So I’ve been consuming all this content about vulnerability, I know it’s one of my weaknesses and then my friend sends that email that hurts me. My first reaction was to hide, to pull back into my shell and just nurse the wound. I’m a pretty affable person and I can shake things off as unintended. But one of the reasons the email wounded me is that it feels like my friend often makes unilateral decisions without consulting me. And the second reason is because I secretly fear that I value her friendship more than she values mine. And the third is because I’ve never told her the previous two reasons.

Instead of hiding, I waited a few hours and sent an email back saying that I was wounded. I’ll be honest here – it felt yucky. Her response was lovely and though we probably won’t still get our families together for Thanksgiving as we have for every year for the past ten, it won’t stick like a turkey bone caught in my throat blocking my ability to breathe or be grateful. I continue to feel a little tender but within that tenderness is a kernel of additional belonging that I didn’t have before. I can speak my truth and still be accepted. My right to be here isn’t conditional on me behaving affably. I feel a little more wise about how to coach my kids about friendship. I crossed that chasm between learning about something and doing something and it makes me feel brave!