What is at the core of fear? What holds us back from true intimacy?
Shame.
Shame in who we are covered up in robes of different colors (those rich Buddhist monk colors) - the yogi, the intellectual, the funny one, the nice one, the dependable one, the musician, the flirt, the sexy one, the architect, the chef, the traveler, the banker, the xx, the yy one. All of our inadequacies buried under layers and layers of fabric. Because we doubt the intrinsic value of our self, we invest all our energy and love and attention into our robing and invest nothing in our true self.
We do this secretly, in hiding, because we think we are the only ones. It's the most dangerous weapon in shame's armory. It isolates us from everyone. We cannot trust even those who love us for our true selves. We can't trust them because we believe they are wrong because we KNOW we are lacking.
But if we look at a group of children, who of us thinks one is more worthy of love than another? Who could say one is more valuable, even if one is smarter or more talented or cuter? We all started there in that group, and the core did not change. Why do we think as adults there is suddenly a loss in our worth? Because we have done horrible things that hurt others? Because we have not lived up to our potential? Because there is no one there to tell us we are loved as much or as often or as selflessly as our mothers told us way back when?
But what would we say to the child in that group if they had uttered these doubts? Wouldn't we say that you are doing the best you can and it will all be ok? That you hurt that person because you didn't know how else to handle your fear or hurt or shame? Wouldn't we say, no - wouldn't we KNOW, that what they have done does not deserve the burn of shame? That they are human and forgivable and above all just as precious as ever?
Wouldn't we be kinder to them than we are to ourselves? Aren't they essentially us?
... shame is the fear of disconnection... that something we've done or failed to do, an ideal that we've not lived up to, or a goal that we've not accomplished makes us unworthy of connection... Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.
- Daring Greatly by Brene Brown
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
5 broken cameras
It hurts, but it's necessary. A movie everyone should see. I have seen documentaries and I have seen the news (this is not in US news). But this is different because it's a personal story and it's a feature film.
I understand that it was a bit of preaching to the choir because the people who bought tickets were the ones who were willing to listen. But it's out there expanding public awareness, 'legitimized' by the Academy. When you've lived your life as a muffled scream in exile, every little bit counts.
It got to me that people showed up to hear the story. But what really shook me was that they clapped when it was over and they didn't leave until every last credit was run.
I understand that it was a bit of preaching to the choir because the people who bought tickets were the ones who were willing to listen. But it's out there expanding public awareness, 'legitimized' by the Academy. When you've lived your life as a muffled scream in exile, every little bit counts.
It got to me that people showed up to hear the story. But what really shook me was that they clapped when it was over and they didn't leave until every last credit was run.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
on fear
I recently met someone who seems to study fear the way I study vulnerability. They connect, of course - the roads merge. As long as the study of fear does not involve armor, as long as it's an acceptance of it, a softening in the face of it, then we are essentially discussing two segments of the same worm.
Because vulnerability is hindered by fear and fear is hardened in the face of vulnerability.
What is the fear behind vulnerability? The fear that someone hurt you once and can hurt you again, the fear that someone would reject you if they only knew, the fear that someone would consume you if you let down your guard. Because of the fear, we press the vulnerability like a flower, wrap it up, put it in the back of the dresser drawer, and forget about it if we're really practiced or ignore it if that's the best we can do. We live our lives with fear waiting for us, imaging in our subconscious eye a living, breathing boogey man who grows bigger and bigger and meaner and meaner with time.
But if we would just close the bedroom door, inch the dresser drawer toward us, open our eyes and take a deep breath, pull the bundle out and unfold the wrapping, we'll see it's dried up, broken apart, ashen. What we had feared all that time has lost its pungency, lost its sting, is no longer a tyrant but instead a withered old wrinkled man who chews with his gums.
It's not about overpowering fear. It's about softening. Because in your most vulnerable moments you visit with fear and find you already have the strength you need.
Because vulnerability is hindered by fear and fear is hardened in the face of vulnerability.
What is the fear behind vulnerability? The fear that someone hurt you once and can hurt you again, the fear that someone would reject you if they only knew, the fear that someone would consume you if you let down your guard. Because of the fear, we press the vulnerability like a flower, wrap it up, put it in the back of the dresser drawer, and forget about it if we're really practiced or ignore it if that's the best we can do. We live our lives with fear waiting for us, imaging in our subconscious eye a living, breathing boogey man who grows bigger and bigger and meaner and meaner with time.
But if we would just close the bedroom door, inch the dresser drawer toward us, open our eyes and take a deep breath, pull the bundle out and unfold the wrapping, we'll see it's dried up, broken apart, ashen. What we had feared all that time has lost its pungency, lost its sting, is no longer a tyrant but instead a withered old wrinkled man who chews with his gums.
It's not about overpowering fear. It's about softening. Because in your most vulnerable moments you visit with fear and find you already have the strength you need.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
dial tone
From a RadioLab podcast*, a boy abused at home and at school, blind on top of it all (as if he didn't have enough to deal with) found comfort in listening to the dial tone on the phone. Something he could count on to be there. Steady.
We find things to find comfort in. Human nature. Sad but also hopeful.
* Escape, Feb 21, 2012
We find things to find comfort in. Human nature. Sad but also hopeful.
* Escape, Feb 21, 2012
Monday, February 18, 2013
anthropologie
Anthropologie opening in Hoboken. Ick. Ugh. Yuck.
It marks the first chain retail (fast food excluded). It's a sad day, but no one seems to care. Where are the protestors? Where are all the Ithacans who boycotted McDonalds until it went out of business? How do we fight this?
It marks the first chain retail (fast food excluded). It's a sad day, but no one seems to care. Where are the protestors? Where are all the Ithacans who boycotted McDonalds until it went out of business? How do we fight this?
Sunday, February 17, 2013
flatiron
Was anyone else aware that the Flatiron has bay windows? It was as if I had discovered a buried treasure.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
on women
Men are taught to reject their vulnerability, and women are taught to conquer it.
The women I'm thinking of are the ones who are in control. Of everything. They are successful in their high-powered career. They maintain their slim figure. They dress well. They excel. They master the variables in their life.
At their core they are strong, but they are also vulnerable.
How do I know? Because everyone I know who has read Fifty Shades of Grey has loved it. Because I see girlfriends who dress more softly when they feel safe with their partner, more aggressively when they are facing the world alone. Because the woman I most recently met who had her shit together said her friend told her she was full of fear. Because I am, perhaps, one of them.
In sculpture class, we were told to felt raw wool into a security garment. I made a security vest that comes with two hands in front like you would feel if someone were standing behind you and wrapping their arms around you, holding you tight, keeping you warm. It's out of character for me to share this, but that's exactly my point.
The women I'm thinking of are the ones who are in control. Of everything. They are successful in their high-powered career. They maintain their slim figure. They dress well. They excel. They master the variables in their life.
At their core they are strong, but they are also vulnerable.
How do I know? Because everyone I know who has read Fifty Shades of Grey has loved it. Because I see girlfriends who dress more softly when they feel safe with their partner, more aggressively when they are facing the world alone. Because the woman I most recently met who had her shit together said her friend told her she was full of fear. Because I am, perhaps, one of them.
In sculpture class, we were told to felt raw wool into a security garment. I made a security vest that comes with two hands in front like you would feel if someone were standing behind you and wrapping their arms around you, holding you tight, keeping you warm. It's out of character for me to share this, but that's exactly my point.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
on love
Simple.
From Osho:
If you love a person you help that person to be alone. You don't try to fill him or her. You don't try to complete the other in some way by your presence. You help the other to be alone, to be so full out of her or his own being that you will not be needed.
From Osho:
If you love a person you help that person to be alone. You don't try to fill him or her. You don't try to complete the other in some way by your presence. You help the other to be alone, to be so full out of her or his own being that you will not be needed.
on men
One of the greatest tragedies, in my opinion, is what happens to men from early on in the face of vulnerability. They get pushed around, told to reject it, to be strong. They are the little boy on the subway on the verge of tears while the father says: you aren't going to cry, are you? And the mother and grandmother look on.
It's the animal kingdom, one might say, and men attract the best mates by being fearless, dominant, 'strong'.
Does it matter that we're cerebral animals? That dominating in the world today is not about raw physical strength and animal posturing? That there are women (small minority, I'm sure) who would like to be with a man who accepts and knows and owns all of himself? That there are women who see THAT as strength? That there are women who know there is no chance of happy ever after otherwise?
From Osho:
The woman starts demanding that the man should be perfect, just because he loves her... Either he has to become superhuman or he has to become phony, false, a cheat... And when you love a person, don't start demanding; otherwise, from the very beginning you are closing the doors. Don't expect anything. If something comes your way, feel grateful.
Yet again, Better of Ted summarizes it smartly (so few words!):
It's been a difficult time. So, what do we do?
We're men. We ignore your vulnerable moment.
It's the animal kingdom, one might say, and men attract the best mates by being fearless, dominant, 'strong'.
Does it matter that we're cerebral animals? That dominating in the world today is not about raw physical strength and animal posturing? That there are women (small minority, I'm sure) who would like to be with a man who accepts and knows and owns all of himself? That there are women who see THAT as strength? That there are women who know there is no chance of happy ever after otherwise?
From Osho:
The woman starts demanding that the man should be perfect, just because he loves her... Either he has to become superhuman or he has to become phony, false, a cheat... And when you love a person, don't start demanding; otherwise, from the very beginning you are closing the doors. Don't expect anything. If something comes your way, feel grateful.
Yet again, Better of Ted summarizes it smartly (so few words!):
It's been a difficult time. So, what do we do?
We're men. We ignore your vulnerable moment.
Monday, February 11, 2013
on weakness and courage
Synonym: unarmed. NOT weakness.
Unarmed means you can easily be hurt, overtaken, dominated. But what is stronger, more difficult, more courageous than walking proud head high* in your most fragile, most vulnerable state. It is easy to walk strong when you've put on layers and layers of clothing to buffer you, to cover up the fact that underneath it all you are naked and raw and sensitive, that you too were born as gentleness.
You choose. You can choose to put on a coat of armor and be shielded from it all. Or you can choose instead to stand perfectly still, to breath, to master all of your self, to hold your head high even as you stand in that tender place.
I was recently discussing how crow pose feels like a precarious balance because, when you are up, you are vulnerable (tip forward, crash head-first) and unarmed (hands can't break the fall). On the surface it may appear that you would need to muscle your way through, use your strength and power to get yourself up. But the true beauty of the pose is in finding balance - strength and courage. It is about being on the brink of tipping forward and letting yourself be there, breathing, softening, enjoying the view as you peer out over the edge of the cliff, head high.
We are all of us Katniss Everdeen (Hunger Games), we are all capable of being warriors even in our vulnerability.
You've got this.
Pema's Wisdom of No Escape :
If we understand renunciation properly, we also will serve as an inspiration for other people because of our hero quality, our warrior quality, the fact that each of us meets our challenges all the time. When somebody works with hardship in an open-hearted humorous way like a warrior, when somebody cultivates his or her bravery, everyone responds, because we know we can do that too. We know that this person wasn't born perfect but was inspired to cultivate warriorship and a gentle heart and clarity.
Brene Brown's Daring Greatly:
Vulnerability is not weakness, and the uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure we face every day are not optional. Our only choice is a question of engagement. Our willingness to own and engage with our vulnerability determines the depth of our courage and the clarity of our purpose; the level to which we protect ourselves from being vulnerable is a measure of our fear and disconnection.Unarmed means you can easily be hurt, overtaken, dominated. But what is stronger, more difficult, more courageous than walking proud head high* in your most fragile, most vulnerable state. It is easy to walk strong when you've put on layers and layers of clothing to buffer you, to cover up the fact that underneath it all you are naked and raw and sensitive, that you too were born as gentleness.
You choose. You can choose to put on a coat of armor and be shielded from it all. Or you can choose instead to stand perfectly still, to breath, to master all of your self, to hold your head high even as you stand in that tender place.
I was recently discussing how crow pose feels like a precarious balance because, when you are up, you are vulnerable (tip forward, crash head-first) and unarmed (hands can't break the fall). On the surface it may appear that you would need to muscle your way through, use your strength and power to get yourself up. But the true beauty of the pose is in finding balance - strength and courage. It is about being on the brink of tipping forward and letting yourself be there, breathing, softening, enjoying the view as you peer out over the edge of the cliff, head high.
We are all of us Katniss Everdeen (Hunger Games), we are all capable of being warriors even in our vulnerability.
You've got this.
Pema's Wisdom of No Escape :
If we understand renunciation properly, we also will serve as an inspiration for other people because of our hero quality, our warrior quality, the fact that each of us meets our challenges all the time. When somebody works with hardship in an open-hearted humorous way like a warrior, when somebody cultivates his or her bravery, everyone responds, because we know we can do that too. We know that this person wasn't born perfect but was inspired to cultivate warriorship and a gentle heart and clarity.
Brene Brown's Daring Greatly:
When we spend our lives waiting until we're perfect or bulletproof before we walk into the arena, we ultimately sacrifice relationships and opportunities that may not be recoverable, we squander our precious time, and we turn our backs on our gifts, those contributions only we can make.
Perfect and bulletproof are seductive, but they don't exist in the human experience. We must walk into the arena, whatever it may be - a new relationship, an important meeting, our creative process, or a difficult family conversation - with courage and the willingness to engage. Rather than sitting on the sidelines and hurling judgment and advice, we must dare to show up and let ourselves be seen. This is vulnerability. This is daring greatly.
* Lined up at commencement, jaded and tired from years of working towards this PhD, disappointed by the anticlimactic ending, only a few of us graduating together and even fewer still around to attend graduation, I am inspired and filled with a sense of accomplishment and pride by the woman ushering us out with her simple, heartfelt reminder of what we had done: walk proud, head high. (We reassured each other: no matter what, they can't take it back.)
Friday, February 08, 2013
on the need for vulnerability
Synonym: exposed.
Everything comes through the same barrier. You can't filter out the bad and absorb the good*. So, you learn to handle the bad so that you can feel it all. You learn by being taught, coached, being left alone to try it out, fine tune it. You learn by talking about it, diving into it through novels and movies and art. And by softening.
Pema's The Wisdom of No Escape:
Renunciation does not have to be regarded as negative. I was taught that it has to do with letting go of holding back. What one is renouncing is closing down and shutting off from life. You could say that renunciation is the same thing as opening to the teachings of the present moment...
It's as if everyone who has ever been born has the same birthright, which is enormous potential of warm heart and clear mind. The ground of renunciation is realizing that we already have exactly what we need, that what we have already is good. Every moment of time has enormous energy in it, and we could connect with that. Letting go at the end of the out-breath, letting the thoughts go, is like moving one of those boulders away so that the water can keep flowing, so that our energy and our life force can keep evolving and going forward. We don't, out of fear of the unknown, have to put up these blocks, these dams, that basically say no to life and to feeling life.
So renunciation is seeing clearly how we hold back, how we pull away, how we shut down, how we close off, and then learning how to open. It's about saying yes to whatever is put on your plate, whatever knocks on your door, whatever calls you up on your telephone. How we actually do that has to do with coming up against our edge, which is actually the moment when we learn what renunciation means.
*If I exorcise my devils, well my angels may leave, too. And when they leave they're so hard to find.
- Tom Waits
Everything comes through the same barrier. You can't filter out the bad and absorb the good*. So, you learn to handle the bad so that you can feel it all. You learn by being taught, coached, being left alone to try it out, fine tune it. You learn by talking about it, diving into it through novels and movies and art. And by softening.
Pema's The Wisdom of No Escape:
Renunciation does not have to be regarded as negative. I was taught that it has to do with letting go of holding back. What one is renouncing is closing down and shutting off from life. You could say that renunciation is the same thing as opening to the teachings of the present moment...
It's as if everyone who has ever been born has the same birthright, which is enormous potential of warm heart and clear mind. The ground of renunciation is realizing that we already have exactly what we need, that what we have already is good. Every moment of time has enormous energy in it, and we could connect with that. Letting go at the end of the out-breath, letting the thoughts go, is like moving one of those boulders away so that the water can keep flowing, so that our energy and our life force can keep evolving and going forward. We don't, out of fear of the unknown, have to put up these blocks, these dams, that basically say no to life and to feeling life.
So renunciation is seeing clearly how we hold back, how we pull away, how we shut down, how we close off, and then learning how to open. It's about saying yes to whatever is put on your plate, whatever knocks on your door, whatever calls you up on your telephone. How we actually do that has to do with coming up against our edge, which is actually the moment when we learn what renunciation means.
*If I exorcise my devils, well my angels may leave, too. And when they leave they're so hard to find.
- Tom Waits
Thursday, February 07, 2013
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
on vulnerability
My favorite topic. A hobby, really. My free time dedicated to exploring it, turning it over to look at its underside, walking in through its bellybutton (yick) so I can map it from within, watching others come up against it and either put up their dukes to fight or turn away from it close their eyes tight cover their ears and nah nah nah loudly enough that they shut everything out.
The odd thing is I'm having a hard time writing about it here even though there's a lot to say. All of its parts feed into each other, and it's hard to find the head. So, the only way to get at it is bite by bite, limb by limb.
Everything real happens there - in the endless open terrain that is vulnerability. When you are standing alone, exposed, unarmed. Every breath is significant, every interaction wholehearted, every cell engaged. The rest just prepares us for, delivers us to, that place so that living (and loving) can happen.
There. At least we've started.
The odd thing is I'm having a hard time writing about it here even though there's a lot to say. All of its parts feed into each other, and it's hard to find the head. So, the only way to get at it is bite by bite, limb by limb.
Everything real happens there - in the endless open terrain that is vulnerability. When you are standing alone, exposed, unarmed. Every breath is significant, every interaction wholehearted, every cell engaged. The rest just prepares us for, delivers us to, that place so that living (and loving) can happen.
There. At least we've started.
Sunday, February 03, 2013
arab humor
When Arabs get together, often a collection of generations, any and all are free to randomly throw out jokes. I don't know how to describe Arabic humor - except to say there's often a twist in logic - so I thought to give a couple of examples.
A man runs 26 people over with his car. The police ask him how it happened. And he says: I was driving down the road and my tire blew out. There was one person walking on one side of the road, and 25 people on the other side. I had to choose. The policeman says: Obviously you chose the one guy. The man says: Of course, but he ran across the street so I ended up hitting all 26.
There are plays on words:
A guy comes off the plane and walks down the stairs (old joke, before the days of jet bridges). His pants are falling off, and he's holding them up. His friend is waiting to meet him and asks him what the problem is. He says: The stewardess (again, old joke, pre-PC) kept saying fasten your belt, unfasten, fasten, unfasten. What was I supposed to do?
I knew my love for my Brazilian Querida was real with the following:
She's walking in front of me through the woods (where were we?), and she's letting branches snap back and hit me. When I complain, she says: Ok, you go in front, Rabibti (long story), and you do the same to me. It doesn't work, I say, because you're too short and the branches won't hit you. It's ok, Rabibti, I'll jump.
Happy birthday, Querida.
A man runs 26 people over with his car. The police ask him how it happened. And he says: I was driving down the road and my tire blew out. There was one person walking on one side of the road, and 25 people on the other side. I had to choose. The policeman says: Obviously you chose the one guy. The man says: Of course, but he ran across the street so I ended up hitting all 26.
There are plays on words:
A guy comes off the plane and walks down the stairs (old joke, before the days of jet bridges). His pants are falling off, and he's holding them up. His friend is waiting to meet him and asks him what the problem is. He says: The stewardess (again, old joke, pre-PC) kept saying fasten your belt, unfasten, fasten, unfasten. What was I supposed to do?
I knew my love for my Brazilian Querida was real with the following:
She's walking in front of me through the woods (where were we?), and she's letting branches snap back and hit me. When I complain, she says: Ok, you go in front, Rabibti (long story), and you do the same to me. It doesn't work, I say, because you're too short and the branches won't hit you. It's ok, Rabibti, I'll jump.
Happy birthday, Querida.
mexico's failure
Mexico is a place that scares me, and I understand it's not everywhere in the country and that it's targeted (perhaps), etc. But there is something about being in a failed state, particularly when the state itself has lost the battle and admits to its failure, that speaks to one of my greatest fears in life. It feels like you are not walking on solid ground - if you need to find stability, there is nothing to stand on, no place to go for balance. When I go to bed, I am at times overwhelmed by the luxury of safety - that I can completely let go, surrender, turn off every inner alarm system because I trust that in my place I am safe. There is always something out there, but the chances are so low or so out of anyone's control, that they don't count.
So now there are vigilante groups in Mexico who have taken the law into their own hands. There are towns that have kicked out the police, which is frightening on two levels - they feel they are under-protected and they feel they are safer without the police's presence. They carry out justice - somehow - and the state is allowing for it - basically an admission that we can't do better for you.
Even music could get you killed, and, in Mexico, that style even has a name: It is not unusual for drug gangs in Mexico to kill or assault musicians, especially those who play so-called narcocorridos that glorify the criminal underworld and end up offending well-armed listeners. A number of cities have banned that kind of music because of the violence that can accompany it.
Holy moly. Que horror.
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