Tag: connection

The Hiding Place

Posted on by Niki

I have discovered that there is a problem with writing a blog where the main theme is vulnerability. You can’t really promote vulnerability without being vulnerable, can you?

I have a kind of distrust for people that attempt to do just that. I don’t like it when someone promotes the sharing of brokenness and weakness, yet doesn’t share their own brokenness or weakness. Maybe I am being too unkind. Maybe people like that really do have the best intentions. Maybe. But I don’t like the culture that it creates; a distinct separateness between the “strong” and “weak”, between the “broken” and the “put together”, between the “helper” and the “helped”. It makes for some interesting power dynamics. But I digress…

But what do I write when I don’t want to be vulnerable?

What happens when someone who writes on being seen, wants to hide?

What do you do when you want to connect…but you don’t want to connect?

You are human, so of course you crave connection with other humans. But what happens when your craving for connection conflicts with the fear of the risk associated with seeking connection?

The hiding place feels safer at first. In that place I can hide from bad advice, the invalidation of my emotions, people misunderstanding me, the mislabeling, the false judgements etc.

I have a strong flight response. When it all gets too much, the temptation to run and hide is incredibly strong. I am good at hiding. And it’s so easy to do, especially in our culture of busyness.

People are often too busy; too preoccupied, too tired, to go looking for those who are lost. Usually we wait until people reach out to us. It becomes a game of chicken – who will flinch first? Will someone reach out for help, or will someone reach out to help? We say that we are being empowering to people, but it’s really because we are too preoccupied to reach out to them. We don’t see them. When was the last time you slowed down to look at people, I mean really see them?

This makes it too easy for people to hide in plain sight: in their cozy hiding place. People hide behind the walls of their homes, behind their jobs, behind their spirituality, behind their hobbies, behind their devices, behind their gender, behind their age, behind their jokes, behind their schedules, behind their spouse, behind their children, behind a curated persona, behind their busyness.

But the hiding place is a lonely place.

You and I cannot stay there forever. In the hiding place. At some point we will need to come out. I know that. You know that. We all know that the hiding place should only ever really be a temporary respite. Not a permanent home. We could wait until someone comes looking for us. But, realistically (in our so-called busy culture), how long could that take? And let me give a voice to that silent fear of yours you dare not whisper … what if no one comes? Who will come looking if everyone is hiding? It takes bravery to go looking for someone, just as it takes bravery to come out of hiding. Maybe you and I, intrepid reader, need to be the brave ones?

 

 

Help

Posted on by Niki

What is it about asking for help that is so unappealing for so many of us? We know that we cannot possibly do everything on our own. But when it comes to acknowledging that to another person, particularly in public, most of us recoil at the prospect. It is as if we are terrified of people seeing (what everybody already knows) that we are not perfect. It’s kind of bizzare and irrational when you actually stop and think about it.

We praise people who are consistently reaching out and helping others. But we almost pity those who are the helped. With one hand we reach out and take a hand, and with the other, we point the finger.

But Niki, I don’t judge people that ask for help. Well, if you don’t ask for help when you need it, then yes you are judging people when they ask for help. It’s not a pleasant thing to realize that “those judgmental people” are not as distant from you as you might think. Sometimes the most judgmental person we know is just a glance in the mirror away.

Let me spell it out with a Brene Brown quote; “when you judge yourself for needing help, you judge those you are helping.”

Brene Brown has studied shame and vulnerability for more than a decade. Her research shows that in order for people to have genuine, deep connection, they need to be able to express their needs. She goes so far as to say that without the expression of needs, you cannot have connection.

Basically, if you are always the “helper” and never needing help, you will feel disconnected from the people around you. Disconnection is a high price to pay for maintaining the perfect image.

I don’t like asking for help. I don’t want to appear weak and in need of others. I have quite fancied the idea of independence. But I’ve discovered that the independent path is also a lonely path.

Right now I am learning about how reaching out for help is an intrinsic part of living in community. And as with all my lessons, it has been a very practical lesson.

The lesson of finding your strength for your season in the strength of others. Struggles will teach you much. It is scary. It is especially scary to do something you know isn’t popular. You definitely feel a little freakish.

In our culture, we measure a person’s strength and dependability by how well they do in not needing other people.

We take it even further. We often measure a person’s ability to lead by their ability to remain independent from needing others. They mustn’t show signs of weakness to those they lead. Their job is to meet needs, not have needs. How ridiculous! It would be a great way of being inspirational perhaps, but not very relatable.

We place leaders alone on pedestals and then are surprised to see them fall. No one was designed to live their life on a pedestal. No one was designed to be alone. That’s why loneliness hurts so much.

We were designed for connection. And connection usually starts with admitting that you need people. You need help. We all do.

Courageous Conversations

Posted on by Niki

I hate conflict. I know that hate is a strong word, and I use that word intentionally here. I HATE conflict. Anger is a scary emotion that I would prefer avoiding at all costs. (the background of where that comes from is a story for another time) Nothing instigates my flight or freeze response more than when people express anger, especially by yelling. I feel like the character Brick from the movie Anchorman “Loud noises!”

How has that been working out for me? I can tell you. Not that great.

The purpose of healthy confrontation (or courageous conversation) is that it leads to healthy connection. If I want the genuine connection that I crave, then at some point I will need to wade into confrontation. Normally when the relationship gets to that point I freak out. Either the relationship stays at one level never going deeper, or the relationship is over. I have preferred to live miserable or let relationships disintegrate. I have burnt many bridges along the way.

I am now at a stage where I am tired of hiding for fear of being incinerated by some fire-breathing dragon (because that is how I often perceive people when they are angry you see). I cannot be free to be who I am if I am in constant hiding.

The scary reality that I need to face is that no community can deepen in connection without the presence of confrontation. There are few relationships in my life that won’t at some point meet head on with the need for those courageous conversations. So that means learning how to have those courageous conversations or brave communication. It means learning how to honour one another when we disagree. If no one in the community disagrees, then that’s a big problem. Because no one agrees on everything, so if everyone is agreeing on everything all the time, then someone is lying. The grown up version of hide and seek.

We need to acknowledge that we are different, and that we will have different opinions and ideas about things – even things that really matter to us. As it turns out, it is usually when what is important to us is insulted, that we feel the most hurt. And that is when the strong emotions we are feeling in that instance threaten to lead to unhealthy reactions. The infamous flight or fight response comes into effect. Some people come out swinging. Others run – either by physically or emotionally withdrawing, or by hiding. There is always playing dead – just pretend you don’t care at all. But that can’t last forever. You can only play dead for so long before all of that pent up emotion resurrects you into some kind of rage-full flesh-eating zombie. And like a volcano, we end up spewing our anger all over the poor innocents around us.

Whether we react by hiding from people or screaming or slamming doors, the result is the same: disconnection from the people around us.

I need to ask myself: How much do I want connection with this person? My desire for connection will hopefully be stronger than my fear of the potentially awkward unpleasantness of the conflict. I am a novice when it comes to confrontation so don’t read this hoping that I have all the answers you’re looking for. This isn’t a teaching session. There are people who have developed tools for doing confrontation well. I am not one of those people. Not yet anyway.

I am not offering a simple solution to deal with your fear of conflict in 500 words. All I can offer is to share with you a snapshot of my journey into embracing confrontation as a forerunner to connection.

Take courage dear heart.