Be Vulnerable

A door closes.? Someone tells us no.

An opportunity arises.? And passes.

We don?t get what we want.? Or we?re afraid to ask.

So we become triggered–a pang in the heart, a contraction in the stomach, the desire to curl up and hide–and we shut down.

We pretend we don?t care so we don?t have to feel.

Why??

We become afraid.

Of what?

Of rejection?? Well, yes.

Of failure?? Sure.

Of disappointment? ?That too.

Of death?? I guess so.

Of suffering?? Of course.

?

But what are we really hiding from?? What is beneath the fear?

Vulnerability.

The stakes are high: live out your heart?s deepest desires and you risk a hurt of equal depth.? Resign yourself to a life of safety, and you risk the torture of knowing what you?re capable of and not embodying it.

Be vulnerable.? Let the sting of caring too much awaken you into inspiring change, into living your full potential.

To be vulnerable is to allow yourself to feel the profound interconnection we all share.? It is to consider the consequences of your every action, your every desire.? It is to risk living your full potential in life.? It is to ask for what you most deeply want?and to?feel supported while you make it happen.

Admit it: you want ______.? So much that it hurts.? So much that it would not be okay, actually, if you went on living without it for one more day.

When we start to feel the open wound of our yearning, we can close down?we will do anything to avoid feeling the pain of vulnerability.? We turn aloof, numb.? We make up 1,000 reasons why we shouldn?t feel what we feel. ?Yet none of them can truly silence the persistent voice of our deepest yearning.

It?s vulnerable to admit this.? It is the hardest thing, to admit our fragility, our tender wanting, our overwhelming care for people and passions.? It is all the more vulnerable to pursue our longings, speak our truth, and ask for what we need.

Somehow, we?ve been taught that vulnerability is a sign of weakness, something to avoid.? It is time to reclaim vulnerability not as a defect or flaw, but as a natural phenomenon?a gift, even.

Vulnerability is the truth of the natural world.? It is a flower opening its petals to reveal its perfect geometry.? It is a seaside cliff, leaning into open space.? It is an eagle in the sky, belly exposed.? It is a baby pup with fresh eyes for this world, suckling on the tit of its mother.

Your vulnerability is a gift.? It is the voice of your inner nature bringing you face-to-face with truth.

The Webster dictionary defines vulnerable as capable of being physically or emotionally wounded.? The word ?vulnerable? comes from the Latin word vulnus, which means wound.

We are human; we are always prone to wounds.? We bleed, we?get sick, we fall, we die.??Yet we parade around, protected by a miraculously thin layer of skin, as if we are invincible.

This entire?life is a wound, from the moment of birth–when our umbilical cord is cut and we leave the safe, nurturing womb–until we retire into death’s womb.

A wound is tender; a?wound is porous.

A wound is an opening.

An opening brings us closer to truth, pierces through the thick skin of complacency into the heart of our vulnerable divinity.

Vulnerability precedes beauty, precedes strength.? Vulnerability is truth; is reality.? Vulnerability is love.

Be vulnerable. Bare your soul.

You will be astonished by the sheer beauty that graces your life, if you only let it, when you live each day with an open, exposed heart.