Powerfully Vulnerable

I often remember a conversation I had with a student as I walked through the Emperor’s Summer Palace in Beijing bank in 1998. She asked me what I meant about being vulnerable. It is to stand without protection, to be open to what is, enabling us to engage in the moment from a place of personal power. By removing all the patterns, behaviours, attitudes and beliefs that we have developed in response to past pain we are able to truly respond from our own power. Pain we experience comes from:

• dashed expectations (the future not unfolded as we anticipated and desired);
• broken attachments (connects to our past which have become severed and no longer serve to satisfy our needs, whether through loss of loved ones, changes to job and other circumstances, or a myriad of other things we hold on to); and
• breached protections (all our patterns and behaviours that we surround ourselves with to remain safe, but that in an instant may prove futile, leaving us hurting).

An oak tree is strong and spends many years developing, but when a powerful wind comes it can break, its protection insufficient to withstand the onslaught. A blade of grass has little protection, is blown over, even gets cut down, but it bounces back. That was my metaphor for vulnerability.

I am again in the process of learning to be powerfully vulnerable. I have generally struggled to speak my truth when I fear it may hurt someone else, cause them to feel upset or some other perceived negative outcome may exist. I have identified a number of behaviours and patterns that have served to protect me in the past that now impede my capacity to present myself authentically. I am not suggesting I blurt out what I have to say in raw, ill-considered form, but I do believe I need to be better able to clearly express myself without holding back, though the delivery is delivered from a place of love. I recognise I have patterns and beliefs that prevent such clear self-expression:

• my needs are subservient to those of others
• expressing myself is to make a fuss, to seek attention, and these are to be avoided
• my safety is dependent on not upsetting those around me
• others do not really want to hear what I have to say
• I do not matter, am unworthy, and unacceptable, particularly if I express myself

I do understand where these beliefs developed, what purpose and benefit they have served me, and that they no longer serve me productively. It is now time to strip these away and allow myself to be seen, though the process necessarily requires me to engage with the world from a place of vulnerability. At least in doing so I am less cluttered, and those who see me for who I am have less rubbish from me between us. I will be better able to connect with myself and be present powerfully in the world. Sounds good, and scary.