Shame

I recently watched two Ted Talks by Brene Brown. One of them was about vulnerability and the other was about shame. I would highly suggest that you watch both videos. They made me think a lot. Vulnerability is somewhat of a reoccurring theme in this blog of mine. But shame is something I have never taken the time to dive into.

These are some of my favorite quotes from the videos: "Vulnerability is not weakness... It is our most accurate measure of courage. Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change.... Shame is the gremlin that says 'I'm not good enough'. Shame is not guilt. Guilt is 'I made a mistake'. Shame is 'I am a mistake'. Shame is an epidemic in our culture and to find our way back to each other we have to know empathy. Empathy is the antidote of shame."

If vulnerability is indeed our most accurate measure of courage, sharing with each other the stories of shame that personally haunts us is an act of strength. Grasping this concept is nearly impossible when each person seems to be holding so tightly to a persona of perfection. I have decided, though, that I would share some pieces of truth regarding myself. I am doing this a bit for myself and a bit for you. And so it begins.

I ask myself what the origin of my shame is. But I can't find that if I am not willing to admit that shame in my life exists and identify it.

It exists. More than I want to admit. Sometimes people say I am heartless. This isn't something I have heard from one or two people. Multiple people have told me this. Mostly it's in jest, but in every joke there is a bit of truth, right? I'm not heartless; I am guarded. If I just pretend to be unmovable, maybe I will be. It's a lie.

My shame looks something like
running away from emotions because that makes me weak.
never starting (or quitting) a project because I won't be good enough at it.
sabotaging relationships because of my own feelings of inferiority.
wide-eyed fear, shaken out of a deep sleep.

My shame sounds something like
crying when I'm trying to sleep.
advice given to others that I never accept for myself.
bitter words.

My shame feels like
heartbreak, self broken.
failure, self induced.
frustration, self produced.

This is shame. Sometimes it's more alive in my life than other times. I am sure I am doing this to somehow minimize what I just said, but there's also a lot of happiness, joy, real strength, and peace in my life as well. But pretending that shame does not exist disables me from ever grabbing the hand of a friend and telling them that we will push through together. Denial disengages us. Disconnecting ourselves from the knowledge of these feelings disconnects us from every other imperfect person.

I don't know how to end this post. I could go on. But perhaps there will be a part two sometime in the future. Goodbye.

Acrobat

You make my heart an acrobat
performing with no safety net.
If I fall, it's to the death
But these flips are automatic.
I am so trained to keep control
but this has become a freestyle
show and the audience gasps in awe
at the one who balances
on the tight rope, very little hope
for a palladium.

When It Rains

Inseparable: It's funny how that changes
into never speaking. It's like a drought
that makes settlers move away.

Summer: We have both thrown away
things (snapshots, cheap-shots) that may convict
us of happenings that occurred then.

Rain: It smells like fresh linens
and feels like new beginnings, soft.
I am dancing here alone.

Confessions

I have noticed a trend. The more people I am aware of reading my blog, the less raw my writing is. I don't like this. I want to be able to write what I want without worrying that this friend, or that family member, or some random stranger will not be satisfied with what I write. Do not be mistaken; I appreciate those that take the time to read my humble blog posts. As it has been said many times, "it's not you, it's me". But this post is doing away with some of that.

I think that I have been doing a lot of growing as an individual lately. I have made decisions that are completely unlike the normal "me". I see a bigger picture. Throughout my reflections, I have more firmly come to realize that how I interact with others is of the chiefest importance in my life. Granted, things don't change automatically and unhealthy habits are easier to learn than to break. There is, though, one such subject that has been somewhat of a reoccurring theme in my life and (more specifically) this blog: vulnerability. This has always been a weak area for me. To feel vulnerable was always a symbol to myself of mine own weakness. And yet, perhaps vulnerability is instead an example of strength? The more I think of this, the more I begin to see that it could be true. 

The rigid thought process in which I attempt to make all decisions (life, emotions, relationships, etc.) does not make me stronger. It simply makes me less prone to chaos and more apt to living a boring and lonely life. Letting go of some of my own control in the last few months has been both the most rewarding and trying experience. It has taught me that following "gut instinct" doesn't always lead to chaos. It has shown me that sometimes chaos takes you places that inflexible calculations will not. 

And so the whole point of this lengthy post is that I am hoping to return to some writing that is more than form, alliteration, slant rhymes, etc. I thought I would start with a list of confessions. Don't get your hopes up too much... it won't be anything super important... baby steps.

1. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever finish college. I act like I have it all figured out, but with finances, other obligations, and the occasional feeling of complete inadequacy, the skeptic inside arises.
2. The people I really trust can be counted on one hand. 
3. The people I will never trust cannot be counted on many hands.
4. I actually have been interested in more guys than I ever have let on (most people can't name two guys I have liked). Still, this number is probably below average which I am OK with. 
5. Until recently, I have felt that the whole possibility of dating thing was REALLY far into my future. 
6. I've had to sever some relationships because they weren't good for me. It felt selfish. 
7. I enjoy big groups, but sometimes I just want to be with two or three people who are really important to me.
8. That sense of belonging to a group exists for me about 50% of the time. The other half, I am roaming around trying to figure out what's happening. Sometimes this gets me down and other times the solitude is nice. 
9. I have to have a project or I get really bored and start feeling like life is meaningless (insert typical Jewish melodramatics here!). 
10. Sometimes I care. It's not always no big deal.

And here, I conclude. 

Comfort Pillow

Lofty ideas are not permitted for one
so young, but a lofted bed is the place
where I escape disbelieving glances,
discrediting remarks. Maybe if I sob
enough the droplets will take root
into this special pillow that I will sleep
with when I am twenty one. Maybe
when I am old enough to harvest
this small act of defiance I will
hold this stuffed, green comfort
with hollow corners, perfect for my
clenched fist. It's as if the white stitched
plant will be blooming with gleaned
strength for my future's picking.