vulnerability – Page 2 – wear the red dress

There is a problem with control. Psychotherapist Miriam Greenspan refers to control as the master addiction. Control can be a useful tool. But is is a terrible master.

I am quite good friends with control. The subconscious belief that I have carried for years is this; if I can maintain control, I can minimize the pain of life. Control freaks are some of the biggest pain avoiders.

The problem is that control is an allusion that creates a false sense of safety from pain. The reality is, we are not in control of everything that happens in our lives. People create all kinds of philosophies and theologies in an attempt to justify their iron grip on life. I am the author of my own destiny. You are. Until you are not.

For example, when I get in the car and drive, I have no control over the other drivers keeping to their side of the road. I choose risk every time I get in the car. I could get injured. I could die. Driving a car has become so natural to us that we forget this simple truth. We need cars, so most of us have successfully blocked out the reality of the risk.

Greenspan says that trying to keep control of dark emotions doesn’t heal them. Surrender does a much better job at healing than control. Surrender does not mean that you give up. Surrender means that you let go.

You let go of trying to keep everything under control, including your emotions.

Choosing to let go is a risk because we are choosing to do something when we do not know what the outcome will be. Vulnerability cannot coexist with control. The whole point of vulnerability is that you are not in control of the outcome.Vulnerability is the antithesis of control. If you choose a life of vulnerability, you then cannot also choose to stay a control freak. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… it just doesn’t work.

I hate feeling out of control. I also hate all the clichés that are spoken to placate my fears.

I could try “giving my heart a voice”. I’ve heard that helps. So I talked to my heart about it. You know what it said? “Control! Control! Take back control!” Well that wasn’t exactly the romantic answer I was hoping for.

There are times when there are no simple answers. There is no quick fix. And no amount of formulas, mantras, or mind mapping or heart talking can change that. There are times when you just have to let go.

Life hasn’t worked out the way I had envisioned. I thought if I followed the plan, stayed in control. Life would work out for the best. I could be happy and safe from pain, if I just stuck with the plan. I look at people who have stuck with the plan and go “Yay for you!” Because I’m a good Christian and that’s the kind of thing good Christians do. We celebrate when life goes according to plan. We like plans.

In all honesty, I think that often times what we refer to as being a “good” Christian is simply the person’s ability to stay in control of their life. (did I really just publicly admit that?) We celebrate control. We don’t call it control of course. For example: Stay in control of your emotions, call it choosing joy. Stay in control of our kids, call it raising them up in the way they should go.

This post does not have some nice tidy conclusion. Hey guys I figured it out, now go and do likewise!

Letting go is difficult for me. Control seems so safe, so good to me. Even now. I think that it takes time and practice to know what to let go of and when. It takes courage to follow through on letting go. Maybe it never gets completely easy. Maybe it is a process (Ugh there’s that word again!) Maybe I will look back and see where I went right and where I went wrong. One day I’ll be able to look back and know that I let go when I ought to have and yet sometimes I didn’t. And that will be okay.

Letting go image from Thinkstock

Large group of young people enjoying a beach party

Inspired by the song Live Alive by Rend Collective.

My technophobic tendencies have been one of my main fears (among other fears) for not wanting to unleash my blog on the world earlier. I wanted this site to look pretty snazzy before anyone would see it. With all the bells and whistles. I see other people’s websites and think oh would you look at that. But if I waited until I could get it perfect, I never would have started and you would not be reading this right now. We all have to start somewhere, you have to learn how to walk before you can run, don’t despise the day of small beginnings etc.

And there’s also something to be said about simplicity… but I digress.

I wanna live alive, I wanna live alive

I hear about metaphors like family feasting. Creating space for everyone to come and share who they are at the feast of community and family. Blessing each other through the giving and receiving of one anther. A feast we all get to share in. A beautiful metaphor I agree…so how come so many of us hold back? Isn’t this what we have always wanted? To belong somewhere, to be seen, and to be valued.

This is probably the part where I bring out the big guns, the big V word. Good ole vulnerability. All too often we are afraid that people will see the real us and not like what they see.

Don’t wanna live a lie, don’t wanna live a lie.

I have been thinking about how, over the years, I haven’t given of myself as wholly to people and community as I could have. For whatever reasons, I have chosen to hold back most of myself and to only share part of who I am. It seems like a safer way to live but not a very fulfilling way to live. What is that about?

This brings me to the big P word. Pain. Yes that one.

Its scary to show up precisely because it might hurt. I don’t want to risk myself because I don’t want to feel pain. It is easier to close off than risk the pain of heartbreak again. Now I’m not referring purely to romantic love, as heartbreak comes through any kind of loss i.e the loss of friendships, the death of someone close, death of a dream, changing locations, schools or jobs. It hurts. The temptation is to shut our hearts from feeling too deeply again. This way, we hope that we won’t have to experience that pain again. We give portions of ourselves. So we end up living half alive.

When I talk about (my) process, this is one of the big ones.

Letting people see the real me. Letting myself build connections with people.

Saying goodbye to a community of people that you have grown to love is painful. Even if the reason you are parting is a positive one. Then having to rebuild with a brand new group of people, knowing that you may part ways in the future… can be hard, frightening work. Since no one can know the future for certain. And we cannot control other people. It is that uncertainty which makes connection risky.

There’s a courage that is forged in pain.

The reality is that the more emotionally healed and whole a person becomes, the more they increase their ability to bring themselves fully and give and receive love, and the more they love, the more potential for pain.

Am I really willing to take that risk?

I have though long and hard about it. I have decided that yes. The risk is worth it. I am worth it. Others are worth it. Community is worth it.

I will risk my heart a thousand times to feel again.

I would rather bring myself more fully and risk potential future heartbreak, then only give part of myself. That choice doesn’t lessen the fear or increase the certainty of the outcome. But it does instill a sense of hope that there is more. There is more for me. There is more for all of us.

I want to be part of a lavish feast. Not a subsidiary meal of bread and water.

To not take that risk does make life safer. But its half a life.

Is that what I want? Is that what you want?

Rather, here’s to a full life.

Tag: vulnerability

The problem with control

Living Alive