call guinness. i read a book.
well, i read half of it. that counts, right?
and it made me LOL something fierce. but after a while, i couldn’t help but to feel a wee bit cheated. there was something lacking. initially, i couldn’t put my finger on it. but then it finally came to me (i’m sure the second glass of wine helped).
it was missing vulnerability.
as a die-hard tina fey fan, i was stoked that i could get a glimpse into her life for only $26.99 plus tax. and while she does indeed open the proverbial door to her readers, i felt like i spent most of my time in her emotional foyer. and with each turning page, i kept hoping to see but a glimpse of the rest of her ‘house’. you know, the messy rooms in her head, the junk drawers of her psyche…aka the good stuff that makes us both human and interesting. but unfortunately it never seemed to happen.
wow! look who’s all bossypants now! but i feel that i can be a smidge critical since i’ve been calling bullsh*t on both me and my writing for sometime now. that’s because after a few years of blogging, i recently realized that i , too, was also only letting people in so far. and this also appeared to be valid in both my writing and my living, as my sisters were kind enough to point this out to me after a few cocktails.
so why all the coco veneer? after some soul searching, this is what i came up with. i want people to only see the fabulosity. and i don’t want to bother people with the complicated stuff. and noone likes a sally sadface or an emotional emily. and it worked. many a person remarked that my life seems “fun and interesting” after reading my posts. and often it is. but i started to resent this person i was creating/fabricating…la vida coco wasn’t only about boozy hollywood parties and celebrities and all-purpose fabulosity. she was also a girl who has been known to stay at home on a friday night, phone painfully quiet. and in between watching awesome bad rom-coms and facebook stalking, she dreams about george clooney finding a life partner. and starting a family. and a having an apartment with a washer and dryer in it. and she’s utterly scared she may never get any or all of the above.
so as part of my 2011 new year’s resolutions, i vowed to open up…both in my life and in my writing. and happily, i’ve been making some progress in my bloggy blog (see any of my february/march debbie downer entries for proof). but after watching this amazeballs TED video, i realized that i’ve been slacking a bit on being more vulnerable in my lifey-life.
http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html
duuuuuuuuuude. first of all, this lady is so me (less the frumpy outfit). we’re both researchers/storytellers. we’re both people who get off from taking chaos by the short and curlies and trying make sense of it. we both lurve taking life’s messes and organizing them into a bento boxes. our respective existences have revolved around finding answers…only to find truth instead. and truth can sometimes suck.
well, the truth that she found via 6 years of research was this: she could easily lump people in 2 categories: (1) those who saw themselves as worthy of love and belonging and (2) those who struggle with their worthiness.
and what seemed to separate people into these 2 groups were their ability to do 4 things:
- to have the courage to be imperfect “…to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.”
- to be compassionate to themselves, thus allowing them to be compassionate to others.
- to be willing to let go of who they thought they should be, thus allowing them to connect to others.
and finally
- to stop controlling and predicting…and be willing to be vulnerable, because the things that make one vulnerable also make one beautiful.
holy sh*tballs, that’s heavy. but wait, there’s more. and while vulnerability is the key, it’s also often our downfall. because vulnerability is painful (and if you’re raised in the northeast like me, it’s also illegal), we like to numb the emotions that come with it. we numb it through crack and hookers beer and banana muffins. or through the trivial pursuit of perfection. or by turning the focus onto someone else and blaming them. or fooling ourselves into thinking our actions don’t impact others.
and as a society, we are really good at numbing. in fact, i believe it’s now overtaken baseball as our national past-time. but as the good doctor points out, we can’t selectively numb…you numb yourself to the tough stuff, and you shut yourself off to the good stuff. and when you put the kibosh on love, happiness, gratitude, you become sarah palin miserable. crikey! who wants that?!
so for the rest of 2011, i’m going to try to take dr. brown’s advice to:
- let myself be seen, deeply seen, vulnerably seen;
- love with my whole heart, even though there’s no guarantee;
- propose to george clooney (ok, i came up with that);
- practice gratitude and joy in moments of terror, when i’m wondering, “can I love you this much? can I believe in this this passionately? can I be this fierce about this?; and
- stop and, instead of catastrophizing what might happen, [just] say, “i’m just so grateful, because to feel this vulnerable means i’m alive.”
