A patient asks if I’ve heard sociologist/researcher Brene Brown’s talk “The Power of Vulnerability.” No, I haven’t. So, I go home and do.
Wow.
Hey, Good Reader: Have you heard sociologist/researcher Brene Brown’s talk “The Power of Vulnerability”? No? Go and do. Right now. Sit down in front of your computer, and type in http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html. Then let’s talk.
I admit it: I find it very affirming when social scientists investigate, measure, then confirm an intuitive truth it feels like I’ve always known. I’ve been saying it and writing it for years: There’s no way around the risk of vulnerability. Do you want someone to know you before you die? Then you have to share your heart. Really share it. And, when you do, your heart will soar to unimaginable heights … and inevitably be broken.
That’s the deal. It’s an immutable truth.
Brene Brown calls the work of being human “an excruciating vulnerability: We have to allow ourselves to be seen.” Brown’s research observes that people who best navigate vulnerability are the same people who most deeply believe they are worthy of love and belonging. Brown calls these people “whole-hearted” people. She says they tell their story with their whole heart.
Brown says people who are willing to be vulnerable are the same people who have the courage to be imperfect. In the instant she said that, my mind combs over 28 years of people limping into my office, terrified that something was terribly wrong with them. Quaking at the thought that their sins were uniquely unforgivable. None of these people had any idea how not surprised and how not very interested I was in their sordid tales. See, everybody has sordid tales. Zzz … I’m much more interested in the question of what someone is going to do with his/her sordid tale.
Want to really know the depth of a person’s character? Then pay attention to how that person responds to the failure of character, when character crashes and burns in moral failure. It’s here you’ll see what someone is really made of.
It’s my job to remind people how utterly ordinary are their imperfections. To help them find the courage to be imperfect. To help them find real compassion for themselves. Because self-hatred contributes not one good thing to the world.
Brene Brown says, “Vulnerability is not weakness. And that myth is profoundly dangerous.” Sheesh, Brene — have you been bugging my sessions? Over and over and over a patient will get close to some treasure of truth, some inspiration of emotional honesty, the first glimpse of the profound intimacy with a beloved … and then give me the tired conviction, “But that feels like weakness.”
If I was the devil, convincing people that vulnerability is weakness would be, like, my favorite day.
Brown says we numb vulnerability: “We are the most obese, most in debt, most addicted, most medicated cohort in U.S. history.” She says that if we numb vulnerability, then we numb joy and gratitude. I think that is a human tragedy.
Another way to numb vulnerability, Brown says, is intellectually. We make everything that is uncertain, certain. She points to modern religion, saying that we have gone from an embrace of mystery through faith to “I’m right, you’re wrong — shut up!”
Authentic theological dialogue — any dialogue, actually — must presuppose a vulnerability.
See, our steadfast refusal of vulnerability makes us exceedingly vulnerable, not to mention utterly alone. This is the tragic paradox.
If I was lucky enough to have coffee with Brene Brown, I would like to hear her ideas on boundaries and discernment. While I meet a ton of folks in my practice who need to take risks with vulnerability, I also meet a lot of people who chronically proffer up undiscerning vulnerabilities. We have to have enough self-awareness and self-respect not to reflexively expose ourselves to folks undeserving of the honor. Folks who would exploit or shame our vulnerability.
To be truly open, we must have the ability to be truly closed. Otherwise it’s just exhibitionism.
Brene Brown says: “Connection is why we’re here. It’s what gives meaning to life.” I can’t argue with that. Nor can I avoid the conclusion that nearly everything about this culture fosters and encourages disconnection and isolation. I think human beings have never been more alone.
If that’s you, and you’d like to change that, then you have to allow yourself to be seen. You’re going to have to be vulnerable.
Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Las Vegas Psychiatry and the author of “Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing” (Stephens Press). Contact him at skalas@reviewjournal.com.
