My friend Joe and I started this weekly blog writing to each other. Well, not really to each other so much as sharing with each other. We take turns selecting the topic and then each write what comes up for us on that topic. Joe went first with the topic: Karma.
My response to Joe’s topic was intense. Raw. Real. Somewhat unhinged. Vulnerable. Left me feeling naked, exposed, too much, not enough and destablized for at least a day. I was mired in thoughts of “what if that was too much information?” “What if he never wants to talk to me again?” “Was this not the appropriate place to share that? And if not there, then where?”
Truth?
I didn’t plan to share any of what I shared. I planned to write what I know about Karma. I was going to give an exquisite dissertation on all I know on the topic (which is quite a lot actually.) I intended to write something cool, hip and slick. Instead what came to me, in my kitchen at 8:30 pm on Friday night, was...
“He died in prison...”
Fuck me and this head that I have. I attempted to shrug it off but then my head just started writing the next sentence and then the next. I am making coffee and cleaning up and my head, utterly bored by the tasks at hand, decided that writing this blog response to his topic of Karma would be a much better use of our time.
Truth is I do not know Joe well enough to have shared all that. To be clear, I DID NOT WANT TO SHARE ALL OF THAT! Fuck, no. But if you write, you know that the best shit you ever write is about the topics you most want to avoid. I hate that. Really I do. But the whole of my writing has been on this edge of saying too much and saying nothing at all.
Like right now I am supposed to be working, but this writing here was clamoring to get out of my head so much so that I just had to give it a little time and space because otherwise it just continued to derail all my thoughts and forward progress on my work tasks. Don’t worry, I often work way after hours so this temporary derailment is not robbing some poor sap of their required divorce attention.
My topic this week, my pick was vulnerability. And it was selected specifically because of what I wrote and shared last week. Well, at least that was what brought it up and pushed it to the forefront...
But on the subject, in a larger less contemporary manner, much unlike the piece I wrote last week, I do not really enjoy being vulnerable. In fact, the whole of my life was directed and controlled by my contortionist like maneuvers, deftly avoiding and escaping any blush with an intimate encounter that might demand me to call forth my authentic, real, whole self.
I think my issues stem from the root word...vulnerable. It is something I felt at a young age and made a decision (and it was a decision) that from that point forward, I would not ever be vulnerable again. And at the time I made that decision, it was a good call. But like so many things we “decide” as children, or young adults or hell last Tuesday, it doesn’t necessarily serve us well for our lifetimes.
So what I have come to know about vulnerability is that without it there can never be any kind of true intimacy with another. If I am not capable and/or willing to be me and bare my soul, then trying to have any kind of intimate partnership with another is really just a waste of fucking time.
What has made this whole exercise towards achieving vulnerability possible is discernment. Vulnerability isn’t something you offer to everyone, all the time. No, it is something that someone earns, much like trust. And I guess trust would be an implicit precursor to vulnerability. Why would you ever be vulnerable with someone who you don’t know or trust? I have no idea, but I know I have done it with mixed results. Last week's blog being Exhibit A in my failure to discern, perhaps.
I guess the part of me that still really struggles with this whole concept is the timing aspect. When, exactly, is a good time to be vulnerable with someone else? What if you are ready and they are not? What if they are ready but you are not? What if they really aren’t interested in ever being vulnerable with you? How the fuck are you supposed to know?
What I have finally discerned is that you can’t answer any of these questions...they answer themselves in due time when you endeavor to be vulnerable...and I being the control freak I am would really like to have some sort of assurance before I float into those treacherous waters. But that is not how vulnerability works. You just have to offer yourself up, as honestly and openly as you can, trusting that if your intentions are pure and right, the humbling might only be a quick rejection freeing you to then move on.
It has taken me a very long time to come this. To let go of this idea that I can be vulnerable and safe at the same time. Vulnerability requires a sort of acquiescence of safety. It requires a boldness and bravery that no amount of controlling could ever have. Controlling is fear based. Vulnerability is faith based.
I have to own that I must define it this way to continue to find the willingness to do the work. I must continue to call myself and actions brave and evincing of my faith in order to proceed past the places I have already conquered. If I want to move forward and deeper, I have to keep going. And while it pains me to own this, being vulnerable, requires me to own my feelings while I remain open to sharing them with you. I can’t duck out and pretend that my feelings aren’t hurt, or whatever. I have to say the thing that I really, truly, deeply feel and trust that however that lands in you, I will still be ok. You can rant and rave and call me names or just leave, all of that is possible but vulnerability following some discernment, requires a gut level honesty from me before vulnerability can even walk through the door.
If you would have asked me thirty years ago if I would have rather cried in front of you or had you punch me in the face, I would have picked punched in the face every. single. time. Hell, if you would have asked me that ten years ago the answer would have still been the same. It has only been since I started writing down my inner most thoughts, fears, feelings, desires and truths, in whatever random ass order they might come, that I began to be willing to maybe, just a little, be vulnerable. Before all the writing, I picked punched in the face before tears always.
And what I have experienced and learned in this whole endeavor is that the more times I allow you to see me as I am, not how I would like for you to, the more access I get to me and in turn so do you. Today I have the most intimate relationships I have ever had because I am willing to say when it hurts, how it hurts, why it hurts and what I need. And I will say that last one is the real ass kicker...owning that I have needs, that I need assistance has been one of the most vulnerable things I have ever done. Because when you have needs and own them, you open yourself up for disappointment. And I am pretty sure, no I am totally sure, I hate that more than anything. And perhaps I have way too high of expectations for the human species...but I will own I have been disappointed a great deal, in so very many ways.
I am not sure I am ever going to like this process. I am not sure I will ever love being vulnerable. But I will tell you that I love what my willingness provides me: closer, more intimate and loving relationships. Today, I know there are a host of people I can call when I am foundering and, not only will they show up, they will likely know what I need, perhaps more than even I do.
Vulnerability is risky business. But like most risks in this life, the higher the risk, usually the greater and better the reward. And that has been my experience with vulnerability. It is a steep hill to climb but the vista from the top is worth all the effort expended.
Again...still.
I know, where the fuck is Joe Blog Number One? Well, it is out there, just not published here, as it was so vulnerable, I was not ready to post it here. Maybe one day...just not yet. You can find it, but you will have to stalk me a little.
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