Being Vulnerable

I feel like the storm has passed. I’ve settled in, found some normal, feel slightly good at what I do again, and had coworkers respond with speed and grace to a blood sugar crash S.O.S. email. What more could you ask for in a job?

A week or so ago, I followed a series of links to Brene Brown’s TED Talk about vulnerability and shame. After many years researching shame, worthiness and courage she discovered that all of the numbers point to vulnerability being the beginning of all good things. That is a vast oversimplification, but Brene has a Ph.D and I do not so I’m okay with simplifying ideas.

Brene made the distinction between guilt and shame with guilt saying “I’ve done bad” and shame insisting “I am bad”. As someone who struggles with both guilt and shame I found this to be a helpful distinction. I started paying attention to my inner voices, who tend to treat me like crap, trying to determine if I tend to be full of guilt or full of shame. So far I’m leaning towards guilt, but it’s a particular shame-filled variety just to make life interesting.

But getting back to vulnerability. The big idea is that it matters and is a must for anyone who is trying to put any grace out into the world. I’ve seen both sides of this in the realm of talks and lectures I’ve seen. There are some talks that, no matter what the subject matter, work. I have watched lectures on topics I don’t care an iota about that were riveting. And I have suffered through lectures on topics I cared deeply about that, no matter how hard I tried to listen, didn’t work. The deciding factor was rarely how skilled the speaker was or the design of the set he had to work with, but how much of his soul we the audience were allowed to see. If a speaker walked onto the stage and bled for us I would happily sit and listen to him describe his lunch.

Jonathan has been trying to figure out what my blog is all about so he can build me a new one. I keep hemming and hawing through descriptions that make me look vaguely exhibitionist and self-involved. But when all the fluff comes off, the point of this space on the internet is to put some grace out into the world. I want to make beauty and words are all I know. But, and you’ll know this if you’ve followed me thus far, the only way this is going to work is if I get really vulnerable with whoever stumbles across these words.

Yesterday my blood sugar crashed at work. Two weeks earlier and I would have had a nice emergency stash ready to go but I hadn’t thought to build up a stash at Samaritan. So when I felt the shaking start and that odd ache through my gut I felt helpless. I tried this and tried that, but what I needed was milk and peanut butter and I didn’t have either. So, of course, I tried to ignore it. When that (shocker) didn’t work I managed to humble myself to go talk to someone. She was a safe person to talk to, someone I didn’t feel I needed to prove anything to. She suggested sending out an email to the entire office, even offering to send it for me. I balked. No, it wasn’t that bad, I would be fine.

I wasn’t fine and finally had to decide between being vulnerable with my new coworkers and possibly doing great harm to my entire system. I gotta tell you, I thought about it for far too long. Asking for help would look too weak, I hadn’t proven my worth yet, I was still making mistakes on the applications I entered. Finally I realized I might soon lose the ability to type an email so if I wanted some help I needed to jump on it. And what came back was a veritable inventory of what people, some I haven’t met yet, had in their desks. And all of it, every granola bar and bag of trail mix and jar of peanut butter, was mine for the asking. I even got emails after I responded that all was well apologizing for not seeing my email sooner. At least three people stopped by my desk to check on me not counting the guy who brought me his jar of peanut butter.

It’s a beautiful story, right? People, Christians in particular, working to take care of each other. I love these stories, love to tell them myself except, of course, when I was the one being helped, when I was the one exposed in all my weakness and vulnerability.

And yet, some grace was put out into the world, wasn’t it?

That I was the recipient doesn’t change a thing. If this is my goal, for this blog and in life, then it seems my marching orders are clear. It’s time to be vulnerable.

Does it count as being vulnerable if I tell you I have no idea what that means?