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.

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.)

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